#;nonca

[sakakuring]

[ Any indie mutuals want a starter? ]

[sakakuring]

coding-the-future

“So... what took you all so goddamn long? We were stuck in that building for hours.”

Not that he was ungrateful to Naegi’s allies, as they’d been the ones to help the five survivors out of the building in the first place, but he couldn’t show that much gratitude out front. Naegi Makoto was still someone he didn’t consider a friend, but at least they weren’t enemies anymore (he didn’t think, anyway).

[sakakuring]

roseate-ruruka

“Are you kidding me? Even you survived?” Suddenly, Juzo was questioning the legitimacy of the game - if people like Andou didn’t die, what was the goddamn point?

But he digressed; he’d barely made it out himself, one arm sacrifice later.

[sakakuring]

@kibcu

“...this isn’t easy for me to say, kid, but... thanks for helping to get me outta there.”

Still hard to believe he lived through it; his supposed sacrifice was short-lived, but he’d been fully expecting to die. Really made figuring out where to go now that much more difficult.

[sakakuring]

[ Because I am a Salty Splatoon about the finale, this is a starter call for interactions with POST-CANON Juzo. Like this for a starter. He survived the ending (obviously that’s canon), and has a missing arm/prosthetic. ]

[sakakuring]

@sekaichou

Noises swirled around Juzo like fireflies, just out of reach from his mind’s grasp. Confusion gripped him tightly as his memory tried to formulate what had happened, and why he wasn’t awake in the first place. Things were growing a bit clearer the closer to consciousness he became, but he couldn’t quite place anything yet. Once some senses returned, he registered his head feeling heavy, his body lying in a prone position on his stomach, and - without much warning - sudden, slamming pain.

The boxer was no stranger to pain, but this was downright agony. He fought the urge to cry out, his eyes screwing shut tighter as he pushed ragged breaths through his lungs, choking on stale air and the taste of blood in his throat. What the hell had happened to leave him in such a state? His thickened mind desperately attempted to make sense, but it was like walking torso-deep through mud.

Against his will, his eyes snapped open and it was so dark -- but the muffled sounds kept hovering, almost like someone was speaking to him. But who?

[shiftercarlos-blog]

🍒 waggles eyebrows. remember the couch, carlos? good times. good times.

🍒: What is your sexual orientation? What is your romantic preference? If you have any, what are your turn ons? What about turn offs?

“Akane... are you trying to imply something here?”

He laughs it off.

“It’s like I told you back in the bomb shelter - or, I did in one history, at least - I don’t really have a knack for romance. I’ve never really been interested in it, either. Same with sex. I’d say, as far as I’m concerned, I’m not really into either, but I wouldn’t put a label on me just yet. Maybe I haven’t found my Prince or Princess Charming yet.”

[shiftercarlos-blog]

🍶 ((#DrunkCarlosFTW))

🍶: Can you hold you liquor? How much can you take before you act drunk? How much before you pass out?

“Heh... well, there’s a reason I only order one drink when I go out with friends. I’ve been told I, ah, can’t hold my liquor very well. I’d say two drinks before I start acting drunk, and any more than four and I’m gone. I usually get beer, but mixed drinks are cool, too. Don’t knock ‘em til you try ‘em.”