in the tears of heaven, the little bird flies.

.

[shooterisms-blog]

still here, somewhat. trying to figure out what i’ll do with this blog... it’s a lot harder rping outside of citta, y’know? the BRS fandom is dead as heck.

[cherubiccallow]

Wanting to RP a ship but not having anyone to RP it with like

[shooterisms-blog]

tragici-sacrificia:

shooterisms

★ вℓα¢к яσ¢к ѕнσσтєя  ★

          How long had it been since the end of that last conflict? Of when she             had fallen…her despair having overwhelmed her and unleashed her            true power? And causing her such pain…all in the end of just wanting           to help her…? 

                    Time is easily lost in their world.

                              Days can easily become years.

                                        And years, decades…

          After all, the days meld together with all the fighting…the slaughter…and the           carnage that the Other-selves force upon their own kind, all in order to keep           their true self happy. All for the sake of their love for their true self…

          A feeling of being watched creeps along her form, eyes blinking open as she just           sits in her normal position atop the ruins of the massive cannon beneath the Gates           of the Sky, a knee gently held to her chest while the other leg dangles. She doesn’t           need to look up to know who it is…her voice resonating around them.

                    “…Mato…

                              …why have you come?”

There was no forgetting what had taken place back then. No amount of focusing on the future, of well-wishing and fun, happy days would erase it from the minds of those who had been well and truly involved. It would always be there. The knowledge and memory of those Other-selves lingered on the edge of Mato’s mind; she could see it in Yuu’s eyes as well, and she could see it in the faraway look the other girl had sometimes, when not actively engaged with the people she now chose to call friends. They shared that weighty secret, an unspoken thing that would link them together in a way that not even Mato and Yomi were linked. They were both there, in that world. They experienced all of that pain, took it in, and survived. 

But there would be no forgetting it. 

Some say that dreams are the subconscious’ way of divulging one’s inner desires-- and in that way, that could be why she stands in that faraway dreamscape now. She knows this place from before... But somehow, this time, it feels different. She was a passive observer before, like she was watching a movie rather than directly being involved, but now? It feels real. Her hair is moved by the wind, and she can feel it on her face. Rather than following a line of sight directed by something else, she looks on her own; it takes a few sweeps of the room for her to notice the shape perched atop a mountain of debris, the exact nature of it meaning nothing to her. She has seen Black Rock Shooter before, but this does not change the fact that she feels like her breath is trapped in her chest. This happens every time they meet. (Other-selves and their loved ones are not meant to meet, most likely.)

“I...” 

Why has she come? She didn’t sleep with the intention to come here. She wouldn’t know how to come back to this place, even if she set her mind on doing so. She looks troubled by the prospect of not being welcome, thinking - knowing - that her presence here will be a detriment to her Other-self. She knows it’s dangerous here. She knows she shouldn’t be here, and yet...

“I... I wanted to see you.” Admittance is followed by a pang of guilt. Her answer is more of a realization --- it was her thinking and worrying about Black Rock Shooter that brought her here, most likely. She wanted to see her Other-self again. Their relationship is a silent one, or so she thinks; but that didn’t stop her earnest heart from wanting it still. 

       “I was worried... about you.” About how you feel. If you’re okay.       She doesn’t want Black Rock Shooter to push herself over the edge again.

[shooterisms-blog]

friendly reminder that mato has been dropped from citta for the forseeable future! so, um. unless you don’t mind seeing unaffiliated threads, i’d suggest pressing the unfollow button! sorry for the trouble, and thanks.

[rpmemes-galore]

Height-related {Sentence Starters}

“Need me to help you reach that? 

“Now, who said that?”

“Get down here and say that to my face!”

“Have you ever considered taking up basketball? You could just drop it in the net!”

“Life’s too short. I’m not!”

“Did you shrink since I last saw you?”

“Lean over so I can reach. More. More.”

“I’m down here!”

“Are you standing on the counter to feel tall?”

“I’m not short, I’m fun-sized!”

“Do I need to get you a box to stand on?”

“You wouldn’t happen to be part giant, would you?”

“Who are you calling a shrimp?!”

“If you were an I-Pod… you’d be a Nano.”

“Ha ha! I’m taller than you now!”

“You could probably still pass as a kid.”

“How’d you grow so much?!" 

"Should I put you on my shoulders so you can see?”

[shooterisms-blog]

A virus. The city is abuzz with news of it; even someone like Mato, who doesn’t have many friends here yet, somehow manages to catch wind of the situation. She’s been in the midst of a summer cold outbreak before, but a virus...? And one that could be dangerous, too. The people here are certainly treating it as such. She’s been holed up in her apartment for most of the night, unable to sleep with anxiety crawling through her body. Is it airborne? Is it infectious? If she even goes outside, she could catch it... And then what? What will happen to her? She doesn’t want to die yet - she’s only twelve. It’s too soon for something like that.

Be that as it is, she is not a courageous girl when it comes to risking her life. Not when it’s only her she has to worry about. She stares down her cellphone for the good part of half an hour, but eventually makes a decision-- and her workplace is the first place she calls, the number saved in her phone under the word ‘Work’ surrounded by swaying heart marks. 

The line rings once, twice, three times, and then goes to voicemail. That’s fine; she didn’t really expect anyone to be there at such an early hour, anyway. She’ll leave a message and hope somebody gets it in the morning.

“Hello? Um, Manager... This is Kuroi Mato. I don’t think I can come in today... A-Anyway, please be careful. I heard about the virus, and I don’t want anyone to get sick. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know, okay? ...Thanks. Be well.” 

Her voice quivers throughout the message, but she thinks she does well enough for a message constructed on the spur of the moment, and hangs up. She’ll lay there in silence until morning dawns outside, wondering just how far the virus has managed to spread.

And if - or when - she’ll be the one to catch it.

[shooterisms-blog]

lagomorphish:

Many a time has he seen that look in the eyes of both children and adults alike. The gaping fear shown deep within their pupils that allowed him to stare directly into the soul. Watching as their anxious mind festered and boiled to the brink of utter disgust; total trepidation. 

At least, that’s what it felt like. 

Unblinking crimson orbs were glowing against the backdrop of dusk, staring down at the young girl with interest when she had stumbled upon him. It wasn’t every day someone had come across an animatronic– a mere robot, for that matter. One that was surely meant to be scrapped long ago. And yet... They let him roam free whenever he pleased. Though that seemed to have caused some issues, given that his massive form had been in the way of most people. 

So with the newcomer staring in silence, he thought of only one thing to do. He would show her that Bonnie was a good bunny! A very good bunny! Moving Bonnie’s arm forward with the sound of rusted gears scraping together; wires making mild popping sounds until he reached his target. Ever so slowly inching his hand towards her face… 

Until he simply pets her head. As gentle as could be, matted fur upon his palm pat pat patting her until he simply rests his hand atop her skull. He does nothing to hurt her. 

He finds no reason to hurt her.

Its movements only serve to validate her fears. Not running or even backing away, she shrinks down, squeezing her eyes shut and cringing against the ghastly sound of groaning gears and wires. She’s sure that this is it -- and when she said to Black Rock Shooter that she was prepared to be hurt in order to live, she didn’t mean this. Any moment, something will happen... Cold metal touches her head accompanied by the intensifying smell of decay, and she braces herself for the end. 

But that’s just the thing: nothing happens. The robot pats her head with as much gentleness as a robot can, the action stiff and yet somewhat comforting. Mato gradually relaxes, easing into the touch despite herself; she opens her eyes and stares wide up at the purple arm, tracing the matted purple fur all the way back up to the animatronic’s unreadable expression. It doesn’t growl at her. It doesn’t stare menacingly. It makes no move to hurt her, and the young girl is bewildered. Such a scary-looking thing... but it’s being nice to her. Friendly, even. If there was ever a situation where her mother’s old adage fit (’Don’t judge someone by their appearances alone, Mato! That’s not very nice, you know? They could be your friend and you wouldn’t know it yet!), this would be it. 

“Ah...”

“......Who... are you...?” 

She doesn’t know if it can speak, but she might as well try.

[shooterisms-blog]

you know what i love most about mato?? her tiny baby fuckin. puppy-ear pigtails. like there is absolutely No Need for her to put her hair up bc it’s so short & fluffy, but she still does it and it’s adorable. i love them. luv tht mato

[shooterisms-blog]

There’s no telling how a child will react to certain stimuli. Most are attracted to cute things like kittens and bunnies; there are some who are repulsed or resentful towards those things, usually due to circumstances and experiences in their past. Some things, however, can’t be explained so easily. This goes double for the way children react to other things -- for example, animatronics. Friendly robot mascots practically designed to appeal to them.

Mato has never seen one before. Her town was too small for high-end establishments that could afford such things, and her brief visits to bigger cities were always on school trips, so... This is the first time. Face to face with one? She is decidedly terrified. It may be because of the animatronic’s build itself, or... maybe because of the way it seems to be rotting and falling apart, emitting an offensive scent she’s never smelled before. Death. Today was a normal day, a good day; what did she do to have something like this placed in front of her so suddenly? Unaware of the poor robot’s intentions, Mato’s first thought is that this is exactly like a situation from a horror movie, and that she’s going to be killed.

Especially considering that she doesn’t seem to be able to move from where she stands.

[shooterisms-blog]

The people in charge here have finally decided to move Mato into an apartment. While she’s glad she doesn’t have to sleep with the bugs anymore, she’s a little nervous... After all, she doesn’t know what her new roommates will be like. For all she knows, she could be put in a room with a bunch of ex-criminals and wrestling fighters. 

The apartment is pleasantly tidy, though, so that gives her hope. With a cautious ‘hello?’ to make sure she doesn’t startle anyone currently inside, she starts her tour of the apartment--- moving towards the bedrooms first. She peeks inside each one (both to get a feel for her roommates and to find her own), and breathes a sigh of relief when she finds one is uninhabited. It’s a plain little room, but it has all the essentials; namely a bed, and also a computer. A computer...? That’s awfully nice. She makes a note to play on it later, but heads straight for the bed, throwing herself down on it and burying herself beneath the covers. After sleeping outside for a month straight, it feels like she’s among the clouds.

When she eventually throws herself up out of the ball of covers a half-an-hour later, she feels recharged. Living in this city isn’t that bad, is it? It could be a lot worse. Some kidnappers don’t even give their captives clean water to drink. She slips her shoes off next to her bed, and shuffles off to the kitchen in search of something good to eat.

[blog-for-rpers]

Reblog with your character smiling

[shooterisms-blog]

[shooterisms-blog]

The phone is there when she wakes up. She doesn’t immediately notice its presence, and doesn’t focus on the pale blue shape at the corner of her vision until she’s fully awake; once she realizes that it’s there, she scrambles to grab it. It looks nearly identical to the one she had at home... Minus the Little Bird phone strap that Yomi gave to her. Her heart sinks in disappoint at seeing that, but she doesn’t dwell on it for long.

She flips open the phone and is surprised to find that her contact list is nearly endless. There are some names she recognizes, but--- No Yomi. No Yuu or Kagari, or her mom or anyone else, either. It’s nearly completely a list of strangers. She tries to enter in her home number and call it, but the busy tone blares in her ear almost immediately. No go. Same with Yomi's. 

Her lips pursed in thought, she decides to send out a mass message. 

To: All Contacts

[11:32 A.M.] Hello! Will this really be sent to everyone here??? 

[11:32 A.M.] I’m Mato! Nice to meet you (´ω｀★)

[0kamii]

[shooterisms-blog]

0kamii:

M A T O & Y O M I | ☆ | original

[mirror-chan20-deactivated202203]

[shooterisms-blog]

mirror-chan20:

“I’m acting too friendly, aren’t I?”

[ns-mp-deactivated20180411]

[shooterisms-blog]

this just in: yomi is confirmed to be a fucking dork

[shooterisms-blog]

thecutersister:

✢ — It was always good trying out new things, and Callie’s favorite thing is definitely food. Sweets, to be exact. So coming here was easy, it had exactly what she wants. The smell from the store is enough to make her mouth water– if she had as much money as she had in Inkopolis, she would even buy out the whole store. But, alas, she only has the pocket change she arrived with.

     “Oooh, really? I could get some of those…” her nose seems to wander, “Or some of those…” and wanders again, “Oh, and definitely some of those..! If I spend too much time here, I’m gonna be broke!”

Thankfully, her stay in the city has helped acclimate her some to the uniqueness of the people that tend to be brought here. This one is far from the weirdest person she’s met here-- in fact, dare Mato say, the older girl is really cute. Fashionable, right? The middle-schooler watches the customer’s expression, her sentiments about the candy store mirrored in Callie’s face; it really is wonderful here, and there’s so much to look at!

The comment doesn’t pass her by. Mato, as selfless as she is, has just the thing for that.

“Are you new here, Miss--?” 

“If you want, I could help you buy some stuff! Think of it as a...” She struggles for the right word. Darn her sixth-grade education. “A promotion! For the store! I have enough money, and it would be really sad if you didn’t get to taste all the yummy sweets here...”