Beneath the mask

Indie . Priv . Sel . Multimuse for muses from Persona, written by Light, She/Her, 30+, MST

[sculmask]

Indie . Priv . Sel . Multimuse for Atlus muses Written by Light, She/Her, 30+, MST This is a sideblog and will follow back from @cybrvce

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[sculmask]

I updated my rules to reflect some important boundaries on this blog. You can view them on my carrd, but for the sake of ease, this is what has been updated:

Rule #3: Shipping update

I ship with chemistry, which includes IC and OOC. I would like us to talk ooc as well as make sure our muses and our writing work well together ic. I find that this leads to a more solid foundation for a romantic relationship. If we discuss a ship, but one or both of us aren't feeling like it's going to work out, there will be no hard feelings between us. Communication is important, and I will not get upset if you're not feeling a ship, and I expect this to be mutual. I WILL NOT WRITE SMUT WITH ANY STUDENT CHARACTERS. I don't care if they're 18, I will not write smut AT ALL with student characters. Smut may happen with muses like Sae, Sojiro, Shuji - etc, and only with adult muses.

New rule added, #7: Age requirements

07. I will not write with anyone under the age of 21. No exceptions. If you are not 21, and if your age is not listed on your blog (rules, pinned post, blog description, etc), I will not follow you / follow you back. If you follow me and are under the age of 21, I will hardblock you.

New rule added, #8: Communication and blocking

08. I can't force anyone to do anything, but I do value communication. If I have done something to upset or offend you, you are always welcome to let me know. I would rather have a discussion to clear the air. However, if you do choose to soft or hardblock me, I will not block evade to ask why. We are all here to have fun, and I always vouch for everyone curating their dashes.

[sculmask]

Inbox call

Specify muse (for both of us if you're also a multi) and I'll prowl your meme tag to send you stuff. If you have a thought or plot / scene idea, leave it with your comment and I'll see about doing something original instead of from a meme. Mutuals only.

[sculmask]

[sculmask]

I finally finished saving every combination of Akihiko and Mitsuru's sprites (that I want; there's a few that are just slightly alternate versions of other outfits [mostly their school uniforms]), now....to make icons.

[lapineas]

❀ 　 ㆍ 　𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 @sculmask '𝐬 𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐤𝐮𝐩𝐨 !

“ if  you  need  a  place  to  hang  your  head,  a  shoulder’s  better  than  a  knot.  “

　𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍, 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐒 ( … ) 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐍, 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄. the dormitory is eerily quiet now, only the faint echo of sleepy footsteps can be at times heard ; 'pon the couch of the common room, the red fool allows her jovial mask to momentarily slip from a visage strained with fatigue and anxiety. her body aches, there are new bruises and cuts blooming across a garden that has long since been claimed by the possessive affections of death: she looks at the colorful fabric plasters on her knuckles, but a dreaded question surges from the depth of her soul⸻ what will happen, once you will no longer be able to fight on the frontline for them all ?

she knows that even without her weapon and without her personas, she would continue to sacrifice her death - touched life for them ( ... ) she would bite and she would scratch and she would throw stones at the shadows, she would drag the moon from the skies above, if it meant that none of her companions had to bend beneath the burden of agony ever again.

a sudden weight on the cushion beside her puts an instantaneous end to her chaotic stream of consciousness. minako does not need to raise her gaze ; she knows the scent of his skin, the perfume that he wears after a long shower, the way he poses himself to occupy only the space he believes to deserve. but then he speaks with razor - sharp clarity, and the wild card is grateful for all the years spent pretending, because something inside of her indeed cracks. a smile tugs at the curvature of bruised lips: grateful, but tarnished at the edges by something much darker and grimmer ( the acceptance of death, the foolish belief that a leader ought to never be fragile or vulnerable ) . she leans back against the sofa, allowing the old cushions to swallow her. ❝ you should be resting, not weaving poetry in an empty common room. ❞ there is no malice in her words, only a genuine appreciation for him⸻ for his company, never demanded but never denied either, even if it is late and they both deserve to leave the night's horrors behind.

her head turns towards him. maybe she is curious, or maybe she is just desperate to be finally seen. ❝ does your head feels heavy, too ? i could not wait to get back so i could finally sleep, but i can't stand to close my eyes tonight. ❞

[sculmask]

Akihiko sees how she tries to hold her head up, to keep a smile on her face despite the increased danger they all face. New truths come out constantly, more to understand, to take in, to keep up with, and they're all pushing their limits harder than they've had to thus far. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't also feeling this weariness deep into his bones, too. He's itching for a fight, always wanting to push himself more into the depths of a fight, but there comes a point when even he is exhausted.

And Minako has let him in enough for him to see that the bruises aren't only skin deep. She struggles to keep herself going. Thoughts plague her with an intensity that no one should have to deal with. He doesn't know the full extent of it, only that she's tired. Depressed. Not just sad, but what could maybe be clinically depressed. Akihiko's no doctor, but he thinks he can see the signs.

He sits next to her as she leans into the back of the couch, letting her shoulders drop and her facade slip. It's a side of her he knows she doesn't show to many, and he considers himself privileged that she lets him in, doesn't keep her pain tucked away from him. He wants to see it. He wants to see her.

The bruise on the side of her mouth is blossoming into something dark. He's had several of those in his years of boxing and can imagine how tender it must feel. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starved for people to touch his injuries with a comforting hand and tell him that things are going to be okay. And Minako sits among the highest that don't let many people touch her in softly intimate ways - like fingertips to a bruised lip.

But he does. He's careful, gentle, as he raises his hand to cup the side of her face, his thumb softly brushing the corner of her lips. "I don't sleep well on the best of days," he admits quietly, shifting to sit sideways on the couch, curling one leg up on the cushion he sits on so he can face her easier. "After a night like this? Hell no." He might pass out just before dawn, his body too exhausted to keep awake, and he'll get two, maybe three hours tops, of sleep before they have to be up. Tomorrow's the weekend, but he's still going to push himself awake to go for a run, train at the gym, run back to the dorm, shower, study maybe...he's preemptively exhausted by it.

"If you'd like, I'll stay with you if you want to try sleeping again." He wants to kiss her, but he worries about the bruise, so he refrains, letting his hand fall to rest on hers as he searches her gaze. "Anything I can do to help."

[aniiimo-blog]

         psa:  if you ever send me a meme & i don’t answer it, it’s never because i’ve seen it & gone “oh, it’s them”. if i can’t think of a response to a meme right away, i usually keep it in my inbox, or save it to my drafts, & then wait until i get an idea to answer it. or sometimes if i just can’t think of anything at all, or a few people sent in the same one ( sentence memes ) and i can’t think of enough ways to make each unique, then i’ll just end up deleting it. but that never means i don’t want to roleplay with you, or that you can never send another meme in, or ask to thread. just so you buttercups know !!

[sculmask]

SCULMASK: indie / priv / sel / Atlus multimuse Exploring grief, death, the pain of loss and how it never truly leaves you; depression, anxiety, confronting your true self and coming to terms with it; isolation, belonging, finding justice in an unjust society

loved by Light sideblog to @cybrvce

[stingslikeabee]

The compliment was met with a chuckle of her own, issued with a mix of fondness and satisfaction. There was something that always bloomed in Melissa's heart when Tohru watched her (as in really looked at her), as if no secrets could be kept in the dark - it had been terrifying at first but it had grown to be one of her favorite things about her husband.

Once a vulnerable victim in his hands, Melissa knew that he would never turn his back on her now. Tohru had seen the worst in the hostess - the malice, the jealousy, the violence - and chose to embrace it all instead of sending her to the precinct in handcuffs. There would never be another human being who could see her so profoundly, beyond the masks worn for the customers and colleagues alike - Melissa didn't need to hide and it made it all so delightfully... True.

In a world of lies, their love was the only thing that mattered.

"Please, Tohru - it's nothing," she replied, voice sincere; Melissa knew he didn't mean to stain the jeans and, besides, she had been a little closer than ideal. She couldn't help, though - Tohru was so good at what he did that Melissa felt like a clumsy child in comparison. It had been nothing short of a miracle that he caught her before anyone else in the force - otherwise, instead of a getting a husband, the brunette would have found herself behind bars for life.

"Can you teach me?" Melissa asked, hovering over his left shoulder and bending her body down to get a closer look without stepping in too close - she was the textbook definition of an eager student, not at all impressed by the blood, the gore or even the questionable thing about murdering another, "Should I twist my wrist in a certain way or is there a pressure point I'm missing? It's so hard to the take these off," she huffed, sounding a bit frustrated. Her career as a hostess had been very useful for the most unhelpful things only, such as eating elegantly from a fruit platter or pouring sake in a certain way.

"I also read about burning someone's fingers to mess with the fingerprints, but I don't know - sounded too easy to be true. Who doesn't carry a lighter these days?" she quipped, knowing she did - not even for her but mostly for the customers at the club who loved having a pretty girl tending to their every need like they had reversed into children. Tucking a stray bit of hair behind an ear, Melissa moved her gaze again to Tohru - and smiled again, delighted to see him at work like the professional he was.

[sculmask]

Ever since they met on that fateful day, grateful he'd been the one to answer the call instead of any of his co-workers, Mel has continued to surprise him. Maybe this one isn't quite so different; after all, she always looks good but she isn't so vain that she'd be pissed over some blood on her jeans. Still, he'll see the brand and get her a new pair anyway.

As she gets closer and leans in over his shoulder, he can't help but grin. Ah, his Melissa is so perfect, so willing to learn. It's messy work, but she never seems to mind it, except when it gets under her nails too much and it takes a long time to get out. She's had to wear some interesting nail polishes to cover it up. He likes it, likes the reminder of their joint extracurricular activities. Were his hands not covered in a mix of blood and saliva from their victim's mouth, he'd have held her face with one hand and turned his head to kiss her cheek.

"Burning can work if you do it right, but lighters would take too long. If you cut off their fingertips, that's easier. Messier, but easier. As for teeth." He adjusts himself so she can see better. Blood nearly reaches his own jeans, but shifting a bit helped move him away from it. "You want to take them and throw them into a river or something. Dental records, fingerprints, and things like scars, birthmarks, and tattoos are the easiest ways to identify someone without family present. Mutilating a corpse can upset the family who need to identify the body, but if it keeps me anonymous, I don't fuckin' care."

He laughs and tilts the man's head so he can show Melissa the teeth. "Molars are harder, in my opinion, so pulling the front ones first helps make room for the molars to come out. It's just a lot of work. Clamp tight," he holds the pliers firmly on the next tooth in line, "and just pull. Sometimes twisting your wrist helps, but it's all just going to be however you can gain leverage."

When this tooth rips free from the gums and fresh blood begins pooling in the back of the man's throat, Tohru turns his head to look at Melissa. "You want to give the next one a shot? It's messy and kind of gross, but." He shrugs. "Satisfying, too."

[sculmask]

SCULMASK: indie / priv / sel / Atlus multimuse Exploring grief, death, the pain of loss and how it never truly leaves you; depression, anxiety, confronting your true self and coming to terms with it; isolation, belonging, finding justice in an unjust society

loved by Light sideblog to @cybrvce

[luzofstars]

There were too many possibilities that the Large Shadows could go and Goro did not like how much of it was unknown. Surprises in their line of work was something that could get them hurt badly or killed. It would help if he had been able to fight one of the previous two Large Shadows, but he had been out of town for the one Arisato had taken out with that unhinged Persona and he'd remained behind to add protection to Mitsuru for the one in the train.

Goro did not regret staying behind to cover her back. With the appearance of these Shadows it changed the usual rules and he would not risk leaving Mitsuru alone with no cover out in the open like that. It did not stop Loki from shifting restlessly from the sea of his consciousness, could practically see how the striped and sharp-edged Persona coiled with tension from inaction.

As Mitsuru begins to answer his question, the humorless laugh has the brunet straightening up in his seat and turning to fully look at her. Set up a meeting with who? Goro wonders silently. Who could this person that the redhead needs to meet at some point be? From the way she talks about it is enough to raise his hackles but he remains calm.

"It's not an issue, Mitsuru. After all, what are friends for if not to be able to complain about things that aggravates them," He assures her with a short chuckle and waving away her apology. She really needn't do that. "Besides, I remember you telling me on several occasions that it's perfectly healthy to talk about things that are weighing on the mind, lest the thoughts become too heavy. Non?"

So the teen lifts one of his legs up so that the heel of his foot catches on the bar under the chair while prompting his elbow just above his knee and resting his cheek against his knuckles. He doesn't notice how he's unknowingly mimicking Loki's 'relaxed' stance as maroon eyes bore into Mitsuru's own. "Who is it that has you this worked up at 1 in the morning?"

[sculmask]

If not to be able to complain about things that aggravate them.

Mitsuru has been taught not complain, to be logical, proud, firm. The stubborn streak came from her mother more than her father, but it was never discouraged. But to complain? To find the things that upset her and rant about them? Even with Goro, Akihiko, and Shinjiro, she hasn't been good at it - although they're the ones who have seen it from her more than anyone. More than the put together student council president and heiress to the Kirijo group is supposed to show.

She should have known that Goro wouldn't let her vague ranting go unaddressed. She knows there's a fire, an anger, that brews in him behind that mask he wears. He, dubbed a Prince; she, dubbed a Queen. Their classmates have found their facades and made them into their personalities.

Sighing, she crosses her legs, resists the urge to draw her knees to her chest and curl up into a ball. It feels childish, something that had been pulled from her by years of her father conditioning her to be the best heiress and future leader she can be.

"Satoshi," she admits after a moment, her voice steady as she says the name she despises. If only she could leave it at that. But the part of her that burns to speak ill of him isn't a small one, and Goro understands that side of her well. He always has. "My father wants me to marry him. A joining of businesses. Money, power, a strong leader." Or so her father says, anyway.

"He's an ass." Those words are hot on her tongue, strange to say but delicious to get out. Honesty has never felt quite so good. If only she could say these things to Satoshi himself. "He wants the status and power that my family has, and since my father has all but assured it will happen-" against her will, "-he has found that his respect for my father and the Kirijo group does not extend to me."

Goro is intelligent, he knows what she means. She bites her tongue against Satoshi because that's what her father wants from her: A proper wife who is strong, confident, a good leader, and who will obey her husband. It would be easier if he weren't so awful to her.

[sculmask]

Akihiko Sanada, the man that you are

[sculmask]

[musesgonnamuse]

Send “📚” and I will flip to a random page in a book and use the first line of dialogue I see as a starter.

[luzofstars]

The patter of raindrops hitting his umbrella was like a soothing melody to Goro's ears. The weather has been abysmal for the past month but he's never minded the rain very much. It meant there were a little less people out and about since they opted to not linger outside. It also made traversing through Mementos easier than it already was. Normally shadows ran away from him the moment they saw him coming, but with the rain their movements were made sluggish and reactions slower, so much easier to cut them down. Just like his latest target. Not so corrupt as to have their own domain but just enough that he could find them in Mementos.

It would be a few days before that would be set to take effect and it also meant it would be a while before he demanded anything else of Goro. He still had exams to take before the end of his 2nd year, and while he was confident that he would pass the brunet would've liked time to study without the need to cram. A sigh escaped him at the thought. It was as he walked by one of the benches that Goro had, by chance, glanced towards its occupant and then stopped.

The girl was positively soaked through in this rain and the longer Goro stood there staring at her, the more familiar she was. It took a few more seconds before the name clicked. Yoshizawa Sumire, the daughter of the Yoshizawa-san who worked at the T.V. Station and the... surviving twin after her sister Kasumi had passed away in a car accident fairly recently. Goro should walk away, it hadn't even seemed like she'd realized that he was right here and she looked to be drowning ( literally, just about ) in her grief at the loss of her other half. He should walk away, it wasn't any of his damn concern but... if by chance she had noticed him and just wasn't looking up, it'd seem out of character of him. Goddammit.

      "Yoshizawa-san?" Goro says, loud enough to be heard over the rain as he steps closer to her so that he can get her under some cover with his umbrella, not that it'd do much with how drenched she was. When it seemed like she hadn't heard him, he called out a little louder. "Yoshizawa-san... Yoshizawa." He'd have to try something different. "Sumire."

[sculmask]

Sumire is entirely unaware of anyone walking by. For all she knows, the world has completely passed her by, and her grief is all that remains. She hears the rain, but it feels like it fills her ears so wholly that little else can penetrate it. The rain, her sister's scream - her own screams at the sight of her sister's body - the thrum of her pulse in her ears, badum badum badum, beating blood through her veins, and it should have been her blood in that street, not Kasumi's, everyone would be happier if Kasumi were still here, Sumire is nothing to be sad over, she's mediocre, she's middling at best, never the athlete or the student that Kasumi is - was - or that her parents want her to be.

The world feels lonely, desolate, and does she deserve any better? She is the cause of her sister's death, and now her parents are devastated, she's devastated, Kasumi's friends are-

Dr. Maruki says she can't blame herself, but who else is there to blame? No one else ran into the street and nearly got hit by a car, only to be protected and saved by their (slightly older) big sister. The driver didn't expect two young girls to run into the road, no one else could have stopped either of them, no one had the wherewithal to know what two teenage girls would be doing in the rain on a packed sidewalk.

It takes the sharp sound of her name to realize anyone was there and that the rain is no longer reaching her. She glances up, blinking away the tears as best as she can - and sees Goro Akechi in front of her, holding his umbrella over her. She barely knows him, has only seen him in passing when she and her sister had been on a daytime TV show at the same time as him, but he's quite popular. What does he want with her, of all people?

"Y-yes? Oh, s-sorry, were you wanting to s-sit here?" She stands, drenched, her glasses coated in raindrops. The bench is absolutely soaking, not anywhere someone would want to sit when it's raining, but she doesn't know what else he could want. Instinctively, she takes off her glasses to dry them on her shirt, but they come away simply streaked with water.

Oh, she's useless, absolutely useless.

[luzofstars]

Goro hummed in thought at Mitsuru's theory, there was definitely merit in that. Though he didn't like to think of the others fighting two of those large shadows when they barely could handle one. Just because he wasn't holding the team's hand by not really being present whenever they went into Tartarus didn't mean he wanted them to get killed. It didn't matter how much he might dislike some of them. Mitsuru and Akihiko and Shinjiro were the exception as they've known each other for a few years, he'd been difficult in the beginning with them as well but quicker to warm up.

      "You're not wrong about them representing the mother and father, respectively... going by the old view, she is the supporter," The brunet says as he taps his pointer finger over the starry crowned empress and then moves it over to tap the emperor. "And he is about action."

He chews on his bottom lip at the thought and he doesn't particularly like what his mind conjures up. If the two were to appear as a pair then it would certainly pose a problem if the Empress Shadow acts a support role like Mitsuru or Takeba do while the Emperor Shadow is the one who doles out attacks. Shadows can definitely heal and buff each other or themselves, he's seen it plenty of times in the past on his nightly hunts during the Dark Hour. But one large shadow doing that to the other? That spells difficulties for the less experienced of their group.

      "It's too early for conjectures on what they'll be like..." Goro tells Mitsuru with a carefully crafted smile and then he's pushing away from the table to look up at him from where he's seated. "Why are you still awake, Mitsuru? Burning the midnight oil too, as they say?"

He knows his attempt at moving away from the subject of the Large Shadows was shoddy at best. But he too didn't want to think too much and he would loathe to be right about that in any way. It also chafed him that both times they've made an appearance that Goro was not there to fight them. Out of town for the first one and then he'd remained behind with Mitsuru to watch her back since she didn't have the security that Tartarus' lobby granted while out in the open.

[sculmask]

Immediately, she sees where Goro's mind moves and hers follows along. A supporting Empress to a fighter Emperor... If they show up as a duo, it could mean a healer and a fighter, at which point the strategy has to change dramatically. Even if it isn't something they actively want to talk about now, Mitsuru knows it will be on her mind, including how to navigate such a dangerous fight.

Her brow furrows in thought as she lifts the Empress and Emperor cards and studies them carefully. Troubling. Even archetypes who take on supporter roles can still attack, even if weaker, but that means there are two strong attackers incoming, one of which can heal the other. It will certainly take a good team to keep their own healed while trying to mitigate the Empress's healing. And that's only if it turns out that they're actually a healer and a fighter, and not just two fighters.

She's pulled from her thoughts when Goro turns her initial question back on her, and it's only then that she realizes her tight her jaw had clenched while she thought about this upcoming battle. Sighing gently, she sets the cards back in their places, ensuring they're aligned precisely with the previous two, and leans back in her seat. She has long been taught to keep her back straight, her posture perfect, the perfect image of a perfect Kirijo leader. But right now, in the middle of the night with only Goro around, she allows herself to relax, to allow her spine to curve a bit as she settles back.

"I suppose you could say that," she says with a singular soft, humorless laugh. "My father wants to set up another meeting with..." Takeshi. Mitsuru wants nothing to do with him and his terrible attitude, but telling her father her concerns has seemingly fallen on deaf ears. He isn't a callous man, her father, but he's trying to do what's best for the future of the company, and Takeshi is a good candidate for financial and status backing. Mitsuru understands why, but she hates him.

"Trying to find a way out of it is perhaps a coward's route, and yet here I am, awake at nearly 1am and finding my thoughts utterly turbulent at the idea of meeting up with him again." Another sigh and she shakes her head. "My apologies, Goro, I didn't mean to complain when there are bigger things to worry about."

[sculmask]

your specific character archetype

the Trickster.

A person utterly self-reliant, and if they need others, it's for their interest and whim alone. Someone charming, someone who gives others an image that's only one aspect of their entire being—a being that's vast, that nobody has seen in completeness.

tagged by: @stingslikeabee tagging: @bloodycharge , @lapineas (femc!), and anyone who wants to do it!

[jeunn-a]

just in time for con </3