#holycrapitsishimaru

[paragonofluck]

Sing. I COMMAND YOU.

5

[nemuri-i-blog-blog]

Sing.

why zane

9/12

[colorfulandloudtothecore]

Sing. Also, what kind of punk-rocker are you if you don't sing? Eat your heart out! That's hella punk.

3/12

well i sing to myself but ive never?? sang except maybe once outloud

man im still punk rock even if i dont sing

[nemuri-i-blog-blog]

★

If we kissed:

[X] This wouldn’t happen.

[] Oh disgusting.

[] Again, again.

[] Kiss you back.

[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.

[] Slap/Push you away.

[X] Be pretty confused.

If you asked me out I’d say:

[X] Um no.

[] YES.

[] ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[X] No.

[] Ew.

[] Sure.

[] YES.

Sex?:

[] Let’s do it.

[] No. You can’t handle my D.

[] FUCK YES.

[X] No.

Should you reblog this?:

[] Yes. I want to send you one.

[] Yes.

[] No. 

[X] You already did.

[lonesomedoll]

✾, ❂ (optional), ☄

✾ — why I chose my character

I choose muses that I admire or relate to on a deep, personal level. With Sayaka, it’s a bit of both. I can relate to loneliness, and how it drives you to do things that can be both great and terrible. I admire her, because despite how lonely it must have been to be so isolated from family, having only a television filled with celebrities to keep you company, which I too do from time to time, she achieved her goal: to spread strength to others through her career.

☄ —my opinion of you

I don’t know anyone here very well yet, and I’m a super biased person to ask seeing as I really have trouble speaking poorly of others, but you seem like a radical dude, Zane. And you use really big words, so that’s really radical, too. I think until I get to know you better, that’s all I should say, because the rest is conjecture! c:

❂ — post a picture of yourself

[lonesomedoll]

21

[♥] Poetry had never been Sayaka’s strong suit. Not much was, in the realm of academia. Though she’d managed to scrape by with decent grades, mainly through the powers of flirtation and the abilities that beauty had so often granted her, school wasn’t exactly something that came easy to her. It’d been a constant struggle, education being yet another aspect of her squeaky clean public image in need of maintenance.

Why, then, had she opted to veer down the poet’s path for her literature class’s project? It seemed ridiculous of a choice, but it was far too late now. Scraped ideas littered the floor, marking a path of a rather frustrated Sayaka. Having tried nearly every spot in the room to channel her muse, it was to her dismay that she found that nothing would assist her in finishing the assignment before her. A low moan escaped her, the air of despair almost suffocated. Turning her cerulean gaze back towards the paper, already marred with a pencil that had carved too deep and an impatient scratch of pen, she resigned to the fate of failure. There had to be something she could turn in, however. No one would be able to say that she hadn’t tried. Pulling a random face from her tapped out brain, she searched for a subject. Yes— the prefect. Ishimaru had been the first person she’d met upon arrival, after all.

Now — what exactly would she pull from their limited knowledge from whatever? Certainly, he was a person able to command respect. There was no doubt about it, he was sure an interesting character. There were so many finely tuned details about him, from the tightly laced boots he seemed to polish, taking great care to perfect each and every noticeable spot on his person. It was almost painful to the eye, seeing someone so free of physical imperfection as he. But — could she really make a poem out of all of that? Was is even enough? 

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

Ishimaru-kun kind of scares me. Scratch that.

He really scares me.

Why does he point so much? 

No, that sounded downright cruel. It did, however, serve to aid her mood. A girlish laugh escaped her pink lips, brightening the room just a bit. The giggle of such an impossibly lovely girl could do wonders, after all, and not only for a man’s ego. Shaking her wrist free of soreness, she set her hand to the wrinkled scrap of writing once again. Clearing her previous work with a bit of hesitation — though she was anything but a cruel person, lack of sleep had made her vulnerable to the most ludicrous of jokes — she tried once more. 

With a straight backed stance

He is always pointing his

finger at someone 

Pinching herself in hopes that it’d lessen the humor of her own joke, Sayaka let out an exasperated sigh. Though she’d have been in stitches if the urgency of the assignment’s completion hadn’t been so pressing, she stifled her amusement and continued on. Crumpling the sheet and moving onto a fresh one, much to her own disappointment — it was inhuman to go through so many poor trees in one sitting — she hoped that this final attempt would be her last. It’d be best to keep the arrangement to free verse, she decided with a sense of finality. 

Though he isn’t the shyest,

the meekest,

the most humble,

he is one who understands the importance of discipline

of power

of command

and for that

I wish

to be

his friend. 

Turning her elfin features away from the loops and curves of her writing, nothing admirable by most standards, but her own all the same, a sense of accomplishment filled her petite frame. Not only were her words genuine, but they were filled with warmth and a prospect of hope for her future at Hope’s Peak. Smoothing any creases her hastily scribbled kanji might have caused, Sayaka cast a final glance over her work. Content with every sore and exhausted word, though messy and quickly scrawled, she pushed to notebook off the edge of her mattress. Hearing the bound pages pit the ground with a muted thud, she rolled over in bed. It had been an exhausting day, after all. Hours later, is was with a start that Sayaka realized exactly what she’d fallen asleep to.

The only thought she could manage to keep tied down was thank god she’d completed everything due for her classes that day before turning in. True, the time she’d had for rest had been limited in this new environment, but school would prove to reign supreme. There was the chance, after all, that her grades were still strictly monitored by the outside world — cause for a strict regime to improve her academic standing. While she pondered this possibility, and how truly real it was, Sayaka managed to go about her daily routine. Pulling a stocking over her bare leg, the other one following suit a matter of second afterwards, she stepped into her shoes — a sense of finality, in regards to wardrobe. Resting her hand on the door’s handle, there was no hesitation in her exit.

Already making good time on her trek to class, Sayaka knew that — sooner or later — there’d be someone who’d serve as a distraction. It was simply a matter of an already habitual schedule, it seemed, though the lagging face did change every day or so. Also granted, they were usually decent at keeping conversation, should they chose to keep it. It was to her great surprise, however, that the student who’d deemed it necessary to stop for a chat was none other than the hall monitor of whom was the subject of her work. In his defense, however, it seemed that he’d come directly from the classroom, no doubt in an attempt to corral her into the vicinity a bit more quickly.

"Maizono-kun! You’re sure to be late for class at this rate!"

Already having braced herself for the proceeding thunder of his voice, it wasn’t quite as shaking to the nerves. Letting a beam cross her features, Sayaka managed only a shrug. Smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Hai — I’ll try and hurry in doing so, Kiyotaka-kun. But, I do think I’m a little lost. Could we go together?" Turning her oceanic gaze towards the boy, she awaited some form of consent. It didn’t seem to be in his character to leave someone wandering — she was still so out of sorts on campus. A curt nod from the other was all the approval she needed, closing the gap between both parties in a matter of small, quickly paced steps. "Thank you — I’m glad we can walk together as friends."

Certainly, it wasn’t much, but it could be the start to the formation of a new bond.

[collectaneus]

☱ ((Sorry if you don't have a lot to work with...))

KYOUKO KIRIGIRI’S NOTEBOOK.

Personal Analysis: Kiyotaka Ishimaru.

My first impression of this boy was that he definitely has an energetic side to him. He clearly enforces the rules with utmost pleasure, as anticipated of a ‘Super Highschool Level Prefect’. The only problem I truly have with the boy is that he is extremely close-minded.

If he believes something is just, he will not even listen to the other person’s side of the story. So in all honesty, he’s not really being ‘just’. If things don’t go his way, it must be ‘evil’.

I can only hope that he can open his mind a bit more, and actually consider other taking in both sides of the story before passing judgment on a situation. It’s the only way he can improve both his job as a prefect and himself as a person.

[colorfulandloudtothecore]

☂ ((You saw this coming from so far away it practically didn't even exist yet.))

"It's the good that causes pain

Causes painWhen you loveCompletely ordinaryIt's the good that causes painYour painThe true pleasuresAre achieved only through tortureTake down your weaponsLet the tears flow"