#infobrokerofmumbad

[fourthshot]

｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ♥†

What makes the character laugh.

Why, lots of things. Jokes, little misunderstandings-- you know, what anyone else would laugh about, really!

... Oh, sincerely? Not many things. Usually, these things are caused by himself; whether it’s the giggles drawn from a humorous thought in regards to someone’s- quite frankly- horrid choice of clothing, or the maniacal laughter of a struggling artist finally achieving the masterpiece he’s been dreaming of oh-so-long.

Character’s preference for relationships (sexuality, type of person, etc.)

One thing is for certain; Khada Jhin does not experience attraction like your average joe. Usually, he feels more drawn to a piece of art, or the idea of a performance than any living human; male or female. Once upon a blue moon, however, he does find himself drawn to certain people.

His favorite? Imperfections. Perfect symmetry and normal standards of beauty put him off or, god forbid, tempt him to make their faces a bit more interesting. It matters little to him the gender of the person, his wants and needs usually are not dependent on such trivial thingsAbove this, however, it’s crucial that said person is understanding of his art; and that they make no attempt to surpass him. He doesn’t like competition. Not when it comes to his shows. Jhin wants- no, craves that all eyes be on his work. (And, on the occasions that his self-loathing ebbs, that all eyes be on him.)

How the character feels about murder.

... Really.

I’m sure you’re quite aware of this already. Or, perhaps you’d need another demonstration to understand how he feels about it?

[fourthshot]

💀 because I hate myself

Descriptions of gore and violence below. Please be advised.

Knives.

The blade felt sharp, an old friend in Jhin’s hands.

His art had grown since then-- it had become something more, something so grandiose that few could comprehend how it was possible. Alas, his tools had been taken from him, bullets reduced to mere pieces of metal instead of the fantastical seeds they’d once been. So. Knives.

An artist sometimes had to make due with what he had.

And oh, it was all so crude. To stoop to seduction to get an outlet for his irrepressible passion, gray matter thrumming with life in alla breve with each step that was taken away from the crowd. Away from safety. Transitioning to the grand stage, so to speak.

The man was still alive when Jhin got to work.

As his blade dug into flesh, twisting and turning, carving quarter circles into the poor fools abdomen to sculpt beauty from the pain. Petals. Flowers. Roses, however cliché they’d grown to be, still held a certain beauty to his eye; and as Nero’s flesh was pinched and tugged and propped into place, oh, it was as if he was in love with their form all over again.

His breathing grew heavier, moisture building up behind the eel skin that covered his face, butterflies stirring in the pit of his stomach as the image in his mind came to a beautiful realization.

The white of the man’s suit stood in stark contrast to the darkening stripes of blood that stained it, thick rivulets of red that pooled around the two of them on the floor, seeping into the wood; it’d be ruined forever. The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine-- no matter how they’d scrub and scrape, his traces would remain, misshapen floorboards stained dark until they were replaced, but oh, he could just do it again and again--

Jhin’s hands trembled as he finally, finally drew the blade back; his chest heaving with excitement at the sight of his creation, roses carved into the man’s flesh, rising from his rapidly cooling corpse. Blood pooled in the deep grooves, kept them so brilliantly red-- and, even as it’d congeal and dry up, it would simply turn Nero into a tribute to the natural way of things. Petals that dried up, red turning to brown, and crumbled.

... He allowed himself to stay there.

To admire his first piece in oh-so-long, a tremendous weight lifted from his shoulders as his mania ebbed, giving way to a trembling calm that enveloped him like a loving mother.

How wonderful.

[silversadmurai-old-blog]

( =①ω①=)

( =①ω①=) = What animals the character likes and if they have a pet/pets

Animals are too troublesome.

No but actually, Gintoki doesn’t feel a preference for any particular sort of animal, save one. He had a large dog called Sadaharu back in his world, and while their relationship as pet and chew toy started out rocky, Gintoki has come to care about Sadaharu greatly, As much as he might have grumbled about it, he’d make sure that the inugami dog gets his walks and food. And that affection is very much returned, although most of the time it seems unlikely, given that Sadaharu is still as prone to chomping down on Gin’s head as ever.

He really misses the pup, even if he’ll never say a word about it.

[diamondbosozoku-blog]

⊙﹏☉

⊙﹏☉ = What flusters the character

Mondo might look like a serious gang leader no one should mess with, but let me tell you he’s actually a gigantic shy baby. This boy cannot even think about trying to ask someone out without making himself flustered–and when he’s flustered the volume rockets up and he ends up shouting. A lot. He’s scared off a lot of people he’s tried to ask out on a date just because he accidentally shouted at them.

[thecrazymedic-blog]

Finding a Lab

As much as his job at the hospital benefited him, the Medic was looking for a place of his own to perform his more... unethical experiments. Of course, the Medic didn’t see them that way, he just understood those in charge frowned upon the experimental procedures he liked to perform. Formal medical procedures were so boring to perform. 

Who better to ask about finding such a place than the resident info broker? Of course they were up to their own business, but it wasn’t too difficult to track him down with all the contacts he made. A quick chat with a demon or two got him going in the right direction. And so with an utter lack of subtly, the Medic asked “Nero, could you help me find a place for my experiments? I’fe got some treasures I could pay you vith from my job.”

[diamondbosozoku-blog]

【 @infobrokerofmumbad 】

There’s no similarities to a school Mondo can find within this hotel, but its long hallways still make his shoulders feel tight. It makes his key sit heavily in his palm and his pocket too, as a reminder that he can leave. He can walk out that door and into town whenever he likes, there’s nothing trapping him here--no bolts on the windows or black and white bear with a distinctive laugh.

Maybe that’s why he spends so much time wandering through the districts, not entirely sure what to do with himself yet. The contract said he’s here for a purpose, but Mondo hasn’t seen any sign of what that might be. It’s possible, though, he’s being too impatient.

He’s on his way out when he almost walks into someone at the door, though a swift step back saves them both from an accidental collision. ❝Fuck--uh, sorry. I guess.❞

[thecrazymedic-blog]

Justice

Justice: A decision they wish they could do over

“Perhaps if I spent just a little more time vorking on it, I could’ve set up ze original medigun so zat ze ubercharge function did not short out on ze first try.” 

[certacyborgleader-blog]

How do you feel about the cataclysm?

“Not enough combat, conversations, or treasures,” she grumbles. “A lot of nothing.”