judgεмεหт

o know light, we must know darkness. Independent OC Roleplay. Tracking; raitorodo. Multi-Verse.

[raitorodo]

Beauty in White

he truth is 真実は I lied 私は嘘をついた

[raitorodo]

Visit Original Link

I just want to start a

                    « f l a m e » 

in your heart

[absinthundrosen]

[raitorodo]

--ooc; Well, while I await replies I'll be making Byakuran icons. Queue has an image and musical number to uploaded so outtie for the most part.

[raitorodo]

--ooc; Do I dare, is the question.

[ofscars-archive]

                “Should I not have confidence in myself?”

      The Egyptian male tilted his head to the side, his smirk faltering momentarily before the cockiness embedded within returned full force. “Yes, a shame. Truly." He gave a curt nod and pulled back away from the table as he fixed his posture, back straight and his arms crossed neatly over his chest. "Unlike most people these days. I am one of the few who hold themselves high above the rest, heh." The raising and falling of his shoulders signified a shrug. "I find it almost pathetic when people don’t think of themselves like the way I do. It’s sad but, maybe it’s just me.. perhaps I am too much of a narcissist for my own good. —And you… I take it you’ve a form of confidence within, hm?" Amethyst optics darkened as he tilted his head back slightly, his nose held high.

            This person was most entertaining, certainly different and fairly relatable on a great deal of accounts. But, perhaps it was too quick to judge as there were many things both could disagree on, too. Should that be the case in the future —if there paths were to cross again after this fortunate meet— then, a shame it’d be. However, though. Marik would focus on actually trying to get to know the other since he was very intriguing.

      He nodded in agreement. “Yes." A bronzed hand reached up to tuck stranded gold behind his pierced ear, only to remain and swirl the lock around his bony digit. "Tatsuo, eh?"

[raitorodo]

   「光」; Dexterious as he was, the other male seemed to surpass him upon the rise and fall of their own personal cacophonous confidence. ❝ You of us all should have confidence, isn't that right, my Egyptian acquaintance?❞ In his tone arose the lowest hum applied to a nonchalant exult; what an interesting piece of flesh. Tatsuo took time with replying, stalling briefly as if to ponder the endless ocean of verbal conjurations to the point his sinistral metacarpus brushed slender digits through onyx locks. ❝ Arguably so, lest I fail to aknowledge the few talents I have-- I fear, I'd find myself repulsive. Surely, you, with such a intellect and appeal, feel the same?❞ 

     ❝ Hmm-- Yes, that would be my rightfully given birth name, Marik.❞ For once in the adult teens life, there was an entity that wasn't forged in a novel or history of long since past that had shared views and disputably projected them finely. Perhaps the legacy of this tangible being had been more than he knew, after all, not many are willing to raise themselves so highly, not to mention, of course, the whirlpool tension that was biting the edges of the string of fate holding the two in place. 

❝ Certainly, my name is not of such... interest?❞ 

[raitorodo]

     ❝ Mmh-- Still far too early to be functioning.❞

[eu-nao-soupatricinha]

[virgo-hyacintho]

The small upturn of her lips signified nothing really significant. She walked silently toward the seemingly carefree human. Her fingers ran over her sharp nails, carefully polished with ice colored paint. Kisara tried to bring warmth into her expression, form. As she inhaled, she stopped just short of the other.

"It is my pleasure to meet such a sweet man, Tatsuo.. My name is Kisara."

[raitorodo]

 「光」; His orbs, onyx in color, had shifted slightly as their lid came to cover perhaps half of the pupil; examining her. Those movements seemed frigid and robotic, uneasy even though the grace of silence was bestowed upon her figure entirely. Her choice of tone, manner of watch and color selection all pointed to a sort of icy thread spreading over a map of whom she was. What a shame, though, that she had come to attempt warmth only to fail due to her, well, own inner dementia. Nonetheless, this Kisara was a creature he wished to gather further knowledge upon.

     ❝ Ah-- Sweet? That's a stretch don't you think, Kisara? Well, it is a pleasure to... meet you, for the first time.❞ Before he had spoken his expression had been adjust; focused upon her, once more with a silent joy.

[fyeahygocardart]

Judgment Dragon

[raitorodo]

指導 -- Closed -- Jonouchi Katsuya

  「光」; Raven hair held taut against his scalp, the sheared portion of vast onyx above his left ear had begun to grow back in a steady pace. A reminder of one of the many things he had set out to accomplish upon the dewy mourning, the shrapnel of his bones aching to be appeased. It had been a mellifluous, those of vehicles and nature swimming through the air by notes unnoticeable and decibels that would surely cause even the deaf to plead for silence. Notwithstanding Tatsou as he had come to know such large and hideous sounds as a call for home, the sort that resonated with his ever beating vascular organ.

  「光」; Were it not for the slender alabaster packet in his hand, beyond shadow of doubt, the male would have lost sense in the rising anxiety to spread his knowledge further. Albeit, this could be seen as a mere game of drawing a powerful there was the underlining proposition of utilizing bottom tier prowess to overcome the highest reigning king. For him, it were a pen versus a sword; to take both and discover how to manage the two in harmony. Long since he had heard those words from his predecessor, something that sparked this obsession. As these thoughts clouded his mind, however, he came to raise his head; entering the shop.

     ❝-- ...❞ There was, in the low sound produced, curiosity and all the much more reason to reach further into the shop itself. Steps, each specifically taken to avoid the edges of tile beneath allowed him time to grasp the environment, the habitual place of work and, perhaps, living. Shelving and cases comprised of glass showcasing that of which brought him there. Duel Monsters. Before he could turn to question for a select number and chosen labels of cards, he was met by the face of a lad about his own age. Lids shutting and opening rapidly, he was almost surprised to see him-- Almost, recognizable. 

     ❝ Oh..! Hello, sir.❞

[raitorodo]

╰☆╮ "We've only just met but, you've a decent face."

      ❝ Well, thank you, Marik. Gotta admit, that’s simply… kind, of you.❞

[ilse-chan-san]

[raitorodo]

╰☆╮ [ they haven't met yet but i'm just gonna throw this out there because hnnnggg yamato face claiiiimmmm ]

     ❝ Huh—! Well, thank you, fellow duelist.~❞ 

[ofscars-archive]

      The Egyptian crossed a leg over his knee in a feminine manner beneath table, chin still resided on his interlocked digits as he stared up at the dark haired male, smirk never leaving his lips. The way the other spoke, so formal compared to the slang language the majority of most teenagers these days used, it was different. Much like himself; he liked it. “Ah.~" Thin, blonde brows rose at the mentioning of his guise. "My appearance, mm? Most people tend to notice that about myself, it’s not a surprise. I am very appealing to the eye." he purred, voice low. It wasn’t a surprise that the first thing that actually went through his cranium was the mention of his appearance. Marik’s outward appeal meant almost everything to him, it was one of his three first priorities.

                “But, to answer your question at hand. My homeland is Egypt." he answered, eyes narrowing a fraction as his smirk widened, expression smug. "A story to tell? Heh. I think you’d enjoy my life story, but alas, that is limited information. —You. What’s your name?.”

[raitorodo]

   「光」; By now, the male had taken the other for a silent yet vicious predator. One that knew of his strength and power, appearing to lust and be comprised of greed-- at least, to the masses-- however it were an odd opposite. A breath of fresh air; a being, about his age, that could comprehend the intricacies of all involvement through life. The essence of which linked he to him set itself upon a double helix, climbing only to fall once more upon the ladder like tower. ❝ Confidence, 'eh? What a relief, it's always a shame when someone can't see the beauty of themselves.❞ His scripture wrought upon the tablet of the air ascribed that of sarcasm caged within a forged honesty. His expression not once changed, still, frigid with its warm appeal. 

     ❝ Egypt is quite far, wouldn't you say, Marik?❞ He would dare proceed with further prodding of the others home, however, denying himself the delight of threading his mental needle through the thread of what fabricated the platinum blond's existence. ❝ Limited knowledge? What a sin, my friend.~ Alas, my name, to you, would be Tatsuo Ishida. Please, refer to me only as Tatsuo-- I am yet to earn any respect to earn an honorific, after all.❞ 

[garota-i-n-t-e-r-r-o-m-p-i-d-a]

[ofscars-archive]

      The Egyptian batted thick, dark eyelashes; amethyst optics focused entirely on the male who looked to be near his range of age. “The book…?" he repeated questioningly as he tilted his head to the side, a bronze hand reaching up to tuck a lock of platinum blonde behind his pierced ear. A small frown was set upon his lips as he continued to examine the other. "It’s merely a book of fantasy." he stated and took the book into hand, thumb rubbing over the soft, paper pages within the hard cover. "It’s not usually the type of book I would read but, it’s new. It’s interesting." he added. Setting the book down once more, the blonde rest his elbows upon the table; his chin settled upon his interlocked fingers as a glint of mischief twinkled within his eyes. "Me?" he purred. "What is that makes you curious, hm?" he inquired, the corners of his lips curling upward to form a perfect smirk.

                “My name is Marik." The Egyptian lightly shook his head, soft laughter escaping him.

[raitorodo]

   「光」; A blitzkrieg of questions seized his mind, some as simple as why he would not read fantasy typically to his name. Foreign. To the otherwise Japanese male the very prospect of his name brought an eerie presence with it, the manner in which he even uttered it generated a thick knot within his chest. It was, as if, royal. ❝ You had me at fantasy, elocutionist.❞ Did the cooper toned opposite hold something he dare not share outside of the purring muse, delicate, per contra, that he seemed hesitant and otherwise distant when it came to his vocal productions before that holier than thou like expression transcended sharp features. Tatsou let his arms come to rest behind his back, his dextral arm that more so resembled a lanky branch held behind him by his left metacarpus at the hinge known as the elbow.

     ❝ Before it was that appearance of yours-- Now, oh, there is many a'thing that let me curiosity flourish throughout. Tell me, if you could, where do you... Come from, surely, with a name like Marik, you must have a story to tell?~❞ He would attempt to return such a tone, however, bringing forth only a bawdy orchestra operated beneath the actor that was he-- the singer, per say -- which monitored all of which went on with the show. It would seem, this fellow companion to hell, would raise a new curtain.