[k]uma

it was dark, and empty. c o l d like headache yuma mukami rp blog for CC || partner: harry potter

[thricelived-blog]

theres only room for one hottie here (haha puns) +*mikoto

Amnesia wasn't an uncommon feature in Yuma's life. He had lived two lives already, his third one eternal. Both previous lives (only one, he remembers) had ended in an early "death", and from then he is renewed without so much as a say in the matter. Growing up with a massive gap in your childhood memories isn't a pleasant way to live, unfortunately. Twas normalcy-- something he long expected to come out of his life.

It felt like Yuma had been a subject in this facility for a long time, yet there existed gaps in memories of his partner. As if he had never had one for as long as he would have been here. Granted, he never thought much about it until the gaps in his memory become more and more plentiful. It didn't do much but peeve the vampire further. Is he some sort of joke? Some toy to play with? Vampire or no... Ah, there's no sense in getting worked up over something this silly.

Then again, Yuma's a simple boy.

A sharp exhale left him. Sharp, shaky, tempered. It was still early in the morning, Yuma's supposed bedtime. No, he's a rebel. He will stay up late for as long as he wanted to, especially now that Ruki had seemingly packed up and left. Without him. Lovely.

The door swings open, its obnoxious creak more than enough to garter the vampire's attention. Hazels flicker outward, laid upon the red-head in question. Memory serves him not; this stranger didn't look like anyone he was aware of. Not a partner, not a room mate... But he walked in without a problem, so... Basic deduction skills are effective here. A thin brow quirks, lips lifted on one end in allowing a sharpened fang to protrude. Heated confusion was his what his expression read.

"Hah? Who the hell do you think you are? Knock first if you're gonna barge in like that."

[yoizukiyo]

[yoizukiyo]

[thricelived-blog]

"Tch." Kid destroys a kitchen and it's an innocent matter. Yuma destroys a kitchen and everyone gets on his ass about it. Double standards. Ageists.

[tebxri-deactivated20141217]

⌠狐⌡—‣ This was a first, never had he been the one to be captured. Pain in his forearm has him bringing up his arm for closer inspection. Ryuuhou was surprised to find a mark. The band of blank ink carved along his wrist aches like a fresh burn but the neatness of it reminds him of a tattoo. Was this how those he had worked on felt? 

            Finally, Ryuuhou sat up, then stood. The navy kimono was smoothed out with care and his pouches were checked and accounted for. Everything was still on his person which meant all of his tattooing equipment was on hand. Perfect.

            A sly smirk curved thin lips, he had to find a way out somehow, but in the meantime he was ready to have a little fun. It was time to explore.

[thricelived-blog]

Yuma's accustomed to heavy lifting. From one area to another, he had carried from supply stores countless gardening tools in hopes of securing a plot of land out in the courtyards. Gardening edible plants was both a survival technique and a hobby of hs, an unlikely choice of pastime for a brute such as he. With a sack of dirt held over his shoulders, Yuma makes his way down the hall. The sight of an unfamiliar figure-- a figure baring an ornate attire not unlike a shaman of sorts-- startles the vampire into dropping the sack onto the floor as he himself reared backwards. It fell violently, though the sack's material held well-- the contents within did not spill out. What did spill, however, were Yuma's harsh words.

"What the hell's your problem, sneakin' around like that?" It wasn't so much that Ryuuhou was sneaking about as the vampire so kindly stated, but Yuma himself is unwilling to admit his own error in a lack of attention. "... You made me drop the bag, so you're pickin' it up and carryin' it to the courtyard for me. Got it?"

[natsukineko]

Inspired by this. That hoodie was s cute, I immediately thought about Yuma and Yui

[kimyohasu-deactivated20150127]

Sugary Sweet ♕ Yuma

thricelived

[kimyohasu-deactivated20150127]

"Now, now,  no need to throw a hissy fit because I stole the last cup of sugar cubes from the dining hall. We’re all adults here, aren’t we?" Crystal hues scanned the brute’s face with mirth, a cheeky smile adorned his lips as he popped the said confectionery into his mouth.

"If you want them so badly, you just have to ask nicely and I’ll gladly hand them over." But Virus knew that wouldn’t be so simple.

[thricelived-blog]

"Says the punk-ass makin' excuses for himself. "Last cup", my ass! How about you shut the hell upo and drop 'em, hah!?" Yuma's voice raises, agitation clear in both vocal range and physical appearance. Those were his, and this cheeky-faced four-eyed asshole's eating them right in front of him. Oh, so he has some sort of death wish, huh?

"Hey!" He wasn't about to tolerate having his preferred treats eaten right in front of him, not without some sort of retaliation. A growl resounds, teeth gnashed beyond parted lips. In a hurried motion, he would reach for the blonde's tie, his grip tight in administering an upward tug as if to further accentuate the monstrous height he wears. "Drop 'em, asshole. Unless you wanna die right here, which ain't a problem to me. Assholes like you are lower than sugar cubes to me, y'know."

[kirisakicarnival]

More character song vol.7: Mukami Yuma

[diabolikpersonals]

[vocibus]

talk farmer to me ✿ yuma

[vocibus]

Clear was quite talented in misunderstanding; most of his relationships, it seemed, started and ended with his inability to properly connect with the world of humans, and this large man seemed no different from the usual. He felt disappointed, saddened by his shortcomings. What had he done wrong? …Ah, well. It was always like this, wasn’t it? His best efforts often overshadowed by his identity he could not change… he was not a human. He could not fit in like one, could he?

Desperately, he swallowed the concern away. It would do neither of them any good — Clear possibly even worse — to dwell on the negativity. Or so Ojii-san used to say. He was always right about things like that. With this resolve in mind he tilted his head, and lifted his hands in front of him, waving. “No, see…” What did they call it in human behavior—backpedaling! That was what he attempted to do. "I do not… make fun," That phrase itself was strange because Clear was definitely a pretty fun guy all things considered; he didn’t quite get that—"I like the way you speak… I have not heard anything like it where I’m from." Another weird response but similarly earnest to the rest of his speech. "I like when people speak."

A pause. “… Clear is my name.” He said as gently as possible. “I am sorry for any misunderstandings…” And that alone sounded dejected, his brightened tone defeated.

But this was not good enough and the other grabbed him. Was this kind of aggression necessary where he came from? Ah, Clear did not understand at all… Just as quickly as it began, it was over. Hmm. Once more, he tilted his head, touching his scarf idly. It just didn’t make any sense…. He would try his best regardless.

"… …Does my mask upset you?" A frown that would go unseen, of course. “… Ojii-san told me never to take it off… I am very sorry it bothers you… Yuma-san.” Another apology and he tested the name. It felt nice, just as his voice did to the inquisitive robot. The sounds somehow suited him; if he remembered correctly, ‘kuma’ was the equivalent to ‘bear’, which was similar to ‘Yuma,’ and his height and stature indeed resembled a bear, in a way. Even his spoken word had an animalistic growl to it…

"… I would not like to fight Yuma-san… …I just wanted to see and speak to the flowers, too. ✿"

Innocent, as always. Even in the face of a threat.

[thricelived-blog]

It wasn't difficult to cause misunderstandings with Yuma. His train of thought is a simple one, a simple procedure of mental activity which typically resulted in one of two things: to be aggressive or to not be aggressive. Those two were typically Yuma's activity modes-- there was no "in between" so to speak. Rare is there a time where he does not respond with violence. Rare is a time where aggression was not in his methodology. Nevertheless...

Spoken word, muffled and distorted by a cyllindrical filter, did not stick well in the vampire's senses. Words tend to fly over his head at times, especially during those common instances where he is enraged by the simplest of things. He was, by all means, a simple man. Simplistic in how he operated, no complications whatsoever. Whatever pisses him off is painstakingly obvious to the common individual-- in a sense, perhaps Clear got a decent idea of where his anger originated in the first place. That was a good thing, wasn't it?

He listened intently to Clear's words. Clear was his name. Clear was his name. That was his name. "Tch! Your parents must've been stupid to name ya that." His words were barked out, agitation still clear in his voice and body language, a display of rigid muscles and sharpened eyes cast upon the gas mask stranger. Then, he started making excuses for himself. How his dear old grandpa forbade him from removing the gas mask under any circumstances. It sounded like complete bullshit to him, yet before he could bark out a retort, Clear had continued on.

His brows knit together. Unwavering gentleness... damn... This guy's really testing his patience, isn't he? Or, what little patience he had. He didn't get him. He didn't get him at all! Furiously, Yuma scratched his head, further making a mess of his already unruly hair. His body leans back, opposing hand pressed into his side and his gaze averted at long last. "Are ya some sorta idiot? Damn it, I don't get what you're sayin' at all! My voice? What kinda bullshit are ya feedin' me, here? Hah?" His tone highlighted less agitation and anger, and more... genuine confusion. His voice-- his rough manner of speech-- tends to be a subject of distaste and yet Clear found it to be a good thing. What a weirdo...

"Hah? The flowers? ... Tch, you can talk to 'em, I don't care." Looming confusion had quelled his once furious temper.

[thricelived-blog]

how is this kid a vampire {{feat ororo

[bitchingmohawk]

┊She tosses a look over her shoulder while she continues to root through the cupboard, eyebrow raised when she snorts a laugh.┊

                        “I’d count myself lucky to have food in the first place, but somethin’ tells me that’s not the question you’re asking.”

┊She’s more used to the confines of the Camp, or Utopia being sabotaged by the humans, or even a childhood spent on the streets.┊

                         ”But I’ll be glad for the help when it comes down to it, honey. You made quite the mess.”

┊Retrieving a small box of sugared cereal from the cupboard, Ororo glances at it before setting it back. Not the item, she guessed.┊

                        “It’s in an…orange tin, you said?”

[thricelived-blog]

"Hey, hey, you make it sound like I ransacked and ruined everythin'!" Which... he kind of did, save for the few untouched cupboards still lined neatly with foodstuffs. 

His arms fold, his temper threatening to flare once again as he trails off to rummage through another cupboard. Not here, either. It looks like Ororo wasn't having much luck either. Yuma sucks his teeth. "Huh-- oh, uh. Right. Yeah. Don't say mushy shit like that." Ororo's words were far from mushy, yet Yuma had difficulty accepting and receiving something vaguely attuned to something other than a lecture.

"Didn't I just say that?!" Calm down, big guy.

[thricelived-blog]

is a mink your fursona or what {{mink

[fumusaculeo]

Unsurprisingly, the boy’s attitude did not change, even after Mink’s attempted intimidation. He merely shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at him with a smile that Mink wanted to punch right off his face. Smug insolence. Granted, it had only been a book and wasn’t really something to get angry over but he could not abide nonsense like this. Especially nonsense that interfered with his own alone time.

"Certainly sounded like you were asking for my opinion of you when you approached me with no warning and ripped my book from my hands." Mink snorted mirthlessly. "There is nothing erotic about it. Erase that idiotic thought from your brain.” He was not much keen on being called old man. He may be older than this boy but he was not yet old enough to accept such a nickname. Or any nickname at all from an insolent stranger.

Mink made no move to reach for his book at the other male’s challenge; did not even blink as he stared him down, his expression void of everything but annoyance. Reading in public? He did not like the fact that Mink was reading in public? Why, then, had he chosen to come to the library - a place filled with books where people sat and read intently all day? Truly, this boy was beyond help.

Instead of grabbing for his book, Mink stepped back again and took his seat, fingers reaching for his pipe and curling around the end. “No.” He wouldn’t be a part of any more of this silliness. If the boy did not want to give him his book back then he would have to go without. He had a very low tolerance for pointless games such as this and his temper was already wearing thin.

[thricelived-blog]

"Don't go lookin' for reasons to blame it all on me, asshole."

Agitation clear in Yuma's tone, hazels would stare in the old man's direction. Mature. Aged finely, perhaps developing somewhere along the line a sense of authority over those younger than he. Of course, that's how most elders were, wasn't that right? Yuma, however, was far older than he appeared. Dozens of years older. His body, though youthful and having not reached puberty, was introduced to a vampiric gene... his rapid healing had not been maximized until he was older. That vampiric trait, accelerated healing though weakened by his primarily human upbringing and genetics would stunt his growth and aging considerably. An illusion of immortality... Another thing that highlighted his impurity.

Those thoughts were quick to be shoved out, not given a chance to truly breathe and ferment in his mind in favor of a boiling anger harbored towards this lecherous old man. Self-righteous, he was. At least, that was Yuma's impression. He kept his distance, his stance imposing and challenging, awaiting the elder's next move. 

He made no such thing. That alone agitated Yuma further. An already loose cannon introduced to a spark that ignites his fuse...

Agitated, he sucks his teeth and trudges forward. Yuma's gaze not once lifts from the elder's presence, his pace accelerated, his feet a rhythmic two-step stampede echoing in the now silent chamber. Silent save for his imposing steps and the occasional huff from the elder. Is smoking even allowed in libraries? 

Looming figure leans over the elder's seat, both hands jutted out and gripping onto the other's coat collar. With whatever space was left on Mink's seat, Yuma's foot rests upon for support. This asshole thinks he's so cool... "Hey. You looked like you were enjoyin' that erotic novel over there with how focused you were. I ain't touchin' that shit, so you and your perverted lazy ass can go fetch it yourself, yeah?" Every ounce of his voice dripped with threat, unconsciously as though furthering his own intimidation factor, his fangs bore as he growled out his words. 

Looking into Mink's eyes was enough to implant into Yuma a sense of regret in his imposition. This... this old man was...

"Tch." Upon releasing, he kicks himself away. "Gross."

[prettywordsinfuckedupworlds]

You give what you have when you, Decide that you, Keep burning like fire,

It’s burning you down

[noirlevity]

Tried practicing again after a long while. This is my progress so far. This is my third work actually, the first and the second one got lost so I had no choice but to redo all over again. Though this one is a completely different drawing from the other two which were identical. 

[unituo-blog]

His scar has been hurting recently.

                   Like a fire breaking out within the crevice of an oven, the flat of his forehead and the bolt of life’s symbolism, has been aching, burning. From the moment he’d stepped foot inside the building, to the following path down the hall, to where he’d been told his stuff had been taken, it’s been seething, screaming. He knows and has known for awhile now that whenever it acts up, there’s something going on, something that might be wrong with others or a possible hint that danger is near. While most witches and wizards might figure that to be a gift, he can’t help but tell them that it’s not exactly what it seems and there is only one person in the world who triggers the nerve reaction of pain within him.

                                                 He who must not be named.

                  Though it seems strange that the greatest and darkest wizard of all time would be in such an area, the boy can’t help but wonder if he, too, is somewhere behind the walls of the facility. Waiting. Waiting for the right moment to attack. Waiting for the time where he can once more take a chance and a gamble at killing the one who survived his curse. Waiting to destroy and cause chaos wherever he goes.

                 The possibility seems laugh worthy, but he knows deep down, there’s always a chance he’s not alone here. With the way his reminder of his parent’s demise and his survival aches in agony as he walks down a corridor, he’s well aware that he could be targeted at any moment. Still, though. He’s among those who aren’t of the wizarding world now, and despite the unsettling anxiousness within his stomach, he reaches out to someone by rudely, yet as politely as he can, stepping out in front of them. No mind is taken as his hand naturally rises to the front of his head, where there fingers press against the blemish, and he ushers out a quick question.

                         ”Ah, uh. E-excuse me? Could you tell me where I am?”

[thricelived-blog]

Headaches.

For reasons he couldn't explain, he was plagued so suddenly with a burning sensation. Seering. Searing, searing, searing centralized upon his forehead, causing the vampire to hiss and slow his own advances. Hand presses to his forehead, a dull and staggering advance towards nowhere in particular. He wonders what was wrong with him tonight-- was it a headache, sinus problems, anything of the sort? He wasn't sure. He wasn't even the least bit sure, and it frustrated the hell out of him. 

A lumbering, awkward stagger, his hand to his forehead and his eyebrows knit together. His gaze dulls, eyes unable to focus past this unfamiliar aching. What was going on... was something in the air? Damn it, why do things have to happen so much--

Speaking of things to happen, with a temporarily blurred figure suddenly cutting him off, a staggering stride is interrupted, the boy taking a quick step backwards as to avoid toppling over from pain-induced vertigo. His gaze fixes upon the shapening form, the shape of a smaller, spectacled boy. So he was the one who cut him off, was he? Whhether it was pain, agitation, or a disastrous combination of bot, Yuma's answer was barked out.

"You... ... cut me off just to ask me a stupid question, huh?"

The boy, with his fingers pressed to an unknown mark, spoke politely for someone who just pulled a rude action. A hiss, his own hand not leaving his own forehead. Slowly, but surely, he grows somewhat more accustomed to this foreign burning sensation. Killer headache. "D... don't you even know how to listen? Some asshole told ya where you are, yeah? There, I answered your stupid question. You're in my way... ... ... Move."

[isolatedidol]

       ”Mm, hey! There isn’t a use in just sitting around and doing nothing. We should explore the grounds and see if we can find anything that can tell us about this situation, yeah? That sounds like something we should do, right right?” 

       He had a smile on his face, like he was expecting praise for the idea he had just come up with even though he knew perfectly well he wasn’t going to get it from Yuma especially. Ruki-kun would think this as a good idea, he thought. Kou could almost hear Ruki himself suggest it in his head. It was aggravating to be here, but having his brothers made him feel somewhat at ease.

       ”Plus, I don’t want to see Yuma-kun cry because of this…ufufu. ~”

[thricelived-blog]

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, ain't got a sense in standin' around like dumbasses, yeah?"

He hated to admit it, but Kou did indeed have a point. It sounded like something Ruki would suggest. Leave it to Ruki to think of all the smart crap. Both hands are thrown behind his neck, the larger vampire leans back in his stance. What was once a relaxed standing position interrupted by the smaller brother's ultimate words. "What did you say!?" Oh boy. "Don't fuck with me, Kou! I ain't some crybaby, alright?"

Oh. An idea.

"Hey. You know that big lake? Rumor says theres a monster livin' in it."

"Let's go campin', yeah?"

[vocibus]

talk farmer to me ✿ yuma

[vocibus]

—!! Whoa!

Ah, he was very hostile! To be expected, of course that thought would not occur to the inquisitive robot. But his actions were easily discerned in both gesture and tone; although Clear failed greatly at social cues, he was a naturally intuitive sort, observant with an eagerness to learn. Even if he did not understand Yuma’s behavior, he could recognize that it existed in the first place. Much like a storybook that contained only the beginning and the end, Clear was often.. disconnected, in this sense.

Still, however, he tried. And tried often.

His head, adorned with his usual gas mask, tilted to the side upon the other’s outburst. He listened and waited for the appropriate moment to speak, trying his best to remember his manners. Ojii-san would be so proud of him! …But maybe not so proud of how this conversation began with such a loud voice on his part. Win some, lose some.

"—Oh? You can’t…?" If only you could see his face! He’s quite disappointed, which shows in the way his shoulders drop. "Aww, man… …but wouldn’t that be reeeeally cool? ✿" And just like that he brightened up again. Takes more than that to kill the sunshine, it seemed—Oh no, the stranger was right. He was certainly being rude, huh? It was probably a good thing Ojii-san wouldn’t see this one after all. How could he have gotten this far without a proper introduction?

In his defense, he found himself once more distracted by his voice. This stranger… he had such an aggressive tone, his words sharp and pointed. He had never heard such a sound, even in the most rough of city goer back home. This was simply unique, wherever this person came from; it was charming. Attracting. He liked to listen, learning all he could about what was possibly a place far far away. The very concept of something different from his home, a land foreign of his home, and his own curious nature kept him interested. Listening, listening, listening. What should have been an unfavorable reaction given the other’s aggression instead grew all the more positive.

Clear liked listening to this person.

"I am not suspicious! I am Clear." Well, it’s a start. And it can’t be denied how earnest he was. "I just heard your voice… I like the way it sounds. ✿" From under his mask, his smile glowed, perhaps radiating in the cheerful way his own voice carried.

"What may I call you?"

[thricelived-blog]

He had all right in feeling threatened. Out of the blue, a man in a gas mask approaches him and questions whether or not he holds the ability to talk to flowers. That's so weird to him-- for a moment, he had forgotten the reason as to why exactly he was so heated, but then it came back to him. Right, he could've been eavesdropped on talking to a bushel of shitty little flowers. Ah, no, they weren't shitty, no. Simply, they are life just as deserving of respect and equal treatment... 

... Right.

Well, let's shove that aside for now, it's unimportant. What was important was this more than suspicious individual speaking to him as though nothing was wrong with this picture. Brows furrow together, his stare not once lifting from the gas mask male.

What a weirdo, he thought.

"I guess it would be kinda neat-- wait, wait, hey, don't change the subject!" Agitation in his tone-- annoyance at best, Yuma raises his voice and barks at the stranger. Did he regret barking? Absolutely not. When did he ever?

Quite frankly, he found the other's presence to be strange. Strange, almost infuriating considering he could not understand how innocent one person could be, especially someone hiding behind a gas mask. It did not match up to a typical connotation of which gas masks carried in his mind. A connotation of preparation in chemical warfare. Violence. Offense. War. All those things long gone yet still leave a scar in Yuma's mind.

But the vocabulary, the voice, coming from this boy... ... ... it didn't make sense at all.

... His voice? 

"Are you makin' fun of my voice, asshole?" Defensive words administered towards a nonexistent insult. No, he was being completely genuine about it, wasn't he? It was difficult for him to tell. This gask mask guy is a mystery to him. And one thing that Yuma doesn't like and gets agitated by easily is mysteries.

"No, you're not clear, I can see ya just fine. Don't make fun of me." A huff, and Yuma strides closer. For more reasons than one, he felt threatened by an opponent that did not exist. An innocent. Ah, but it can't be helped with a fuse as short as his own, can it?

The scruff of his scarf grasped in one hand, pulling Clear closer to him, his hazel gaze casting down a furious stare. He's just so.. confused. What's with this guy? Why does he sound so happy behind a tool used in war? "Listen here, you weirdo. I don't know what your deal is, but I don't like it. You fuck around with me again, and I'll shove that gas mask so far up your ass, you'll puke it back out again, got it?" Synced with his last few words, the scarf is released. 

"Yuma." A delayed response. "What the hell is your deal, anyways? If you're lookin' for a fight, then have at me, I'll knock ya down right where you stand."