"100% accurate, yes!"

…yes. He was another child of  the forest, but not a stalchild. Even so, Skull Kid felt compelled to show a bit more friendliness than he’d show any adult.

As the boy came closer and closer, Skull Kid stood up straight. He felt a bit more relaxed with himself and the stranger.

“…I do not know what a stand it.”

He answered bluntly.

“...”

He didn’t utter anything, simply looking at the other with distrust. What a silly question. Of course the boy was scared of the other, his weird lips and complete black face, sort of looked like a racist caricature actually. The kid would feel sort of offended by the other’s look if he wasn’t so terrified of it. So this weird creature wasn’t a stand, huh? Well, then he was just another weirdo in his way.

But regardless on how Boingo’s feeling, he had to be strong, for his bro, for revenge against that hat-wearer monster! Grasping tightly to his manga, the boy took a deep breath and approached the other.

“Look, I-”

Now that’s a creepy laugh for sure.

“…”

Was this man serious? He’d really make the boy just straight up confess? It’s just so weird for the young Egyptian boy to find someone that cared this much about his problems, especially if this someone is just a random strange on the streets…well, perhaps this man wasn’t such a stranger, Boingo didn’t knew why but there was something about him that felt so familiar, but he just couldn’t point out what, it was rather bizarre.

Clinging to his own shirt hard, the child, looks down, trying to avoid eye contact with the blond man, his fear suddenly turning into sadness, his trembling ceased.

“…I-it’s for my brother! …Yes”

The boy mumbled as he clenched his fist on his shirt.

Despite how the child’s emotional felt words sounded true, Versace had lived on the streets long enough to know you don’t just believe what comes out of everyone’s mouth. Versace wasn’t normally a rich man, but he still wanted to help the child. It was very uncharacteristic of him to help out other people. When he was young he had to look out for number one only because if you didn’t you’d be taken advantage of and end up even more starving. His memories of his childhood made him feel some empathy for the kid,and more than he’d like to admit at that.

He didn’t bother asking about where the kid’s parents were because if they were useful he wouldn’t be on the streets like this. “Right. I have a job and should be able to make it by with my half, so you take yours.” He counted out the bills he received and gave the kid 1,500$ out of the 2,000$ he was given. He was lying about the job thing, but he does have his ways to generate some money when he needed it and besides, he was living at his father’s mansion for the time being so he was well taken cared of. For now at least.

Boingo simply gaze upon the blond man, unsure on how to continue as of now, usually he leaves on an ambulance on the way to the hospital, none of his predictions that ended in money were consequence-free, but this one was apparently.

If you had to change your character’s FC for one day, who would you pick?

What drew you to rping this character?

What’s something you like about how you write?

What’s something you dislike about how you write or wish you were better at?

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What;s a similarly you have with your character?

What’s a difference you have with your character?

What’s the hardest thing for you to write?

Do you think you’ve gotten better at writing anything or any type of thing or situation since you started writing this character (or roleplaying in general)? 

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Do you prefer gifs or icons when roleplaying? Or no FC at all?

Do you roleplay with people whose characters aren’t from the same dimentional universe as yours? (For example, if your character is drawn or anime, will you RP with people who use actor face claims/play-bys?) 

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What/Who is a character you think you would like to roleplay? What’s currently stopping you from roleplaying them?

Who’s a roleplayer (or writer) you think you have learned a lot from? 

@comicxomen

…today was nicer. Today, he felt luckier. As a new face came closer to his usual spot on the large  stump where he played each day, the skull kid began to dance from side to side.

He removed his flute, ready to play.

…there was another child, visiting him in the middle of the day.

…such a thing wasn’t common, but it was oh so nice!

"...”

The boy aimlessly wandered deeper and deeper into the woods. How in the world did he even got here? All he remembered was going visit his brother at the hospital, and suddenly he started to hear some music flute...and now he’s there, somewhat compelled to follow the melody of the said flute. This was all rather bizarre, and even though it was also quite scary, the boy did his best to hide his fear. This could be one of Jotaro’s friends attack, this could be an opportunity to kill them, he refused to let fear get the best of him now, not when he had to avenger his brother.

Boingo continuous wandering came to a half as he hears the question of a rather creepy child sitting on a random, tall stump.

“...Are you a stand?”

His behavior was peculiar, but he didn’t seem hostile. So far, so good. If she could call it that. The silent lingered as Adara glanced out at the rain once more, hoping there would be signs of it letting up soon. Apparently not, but at least it was merely a thunderstorm with plenty of rain in the mix.

“Are you waiting for someone? Looking for them, actually?” She asked, deciding to perform an attempt at some small talk. The toe of her shoe gently taps the ground as she thought to herself, eyes out to the rain once more before switching her gaze to him. Only now did she realize that he had something with his person.

“...I’m not waiting for anyone...yes!”

Lips kept tightly together, Yoshikage looks over the boy’s comic. The drawings were terrible, horrid, juvenile, but it wasn’t the STYLE that catches him off-guard. It’s what they DEPICT. As soon as he sets eyes upon it, HE CAN FEEL HIS STOMACH TWIST AND TURN, TANGLE ITSELF INTO KNOTS.

Plain as could be, there it was: an illustration of a murder, crude and cold, in BLOODY REDS and BRIGHT ORANGES, the woman’s death GRAPHIC in every sense of the word. Upon the opposite page is Kira himself, abstract and nearly intangible.

Nevermind his narcissism and over-critical thoughts. Fear grips YOSHIKAGE KIRA as he looks at the drawings, hands nearly brought to a shake. The boy wasn’t lying.

‘ —-Damn. I didn’t have an idea it was ANYTHING like this.

       Listen. You, come with me. For a while, anyways!        And DON’T make a scene…I’ll kill you at a moment’s notice,        I wouldn’t even care about your fucking stupid little comic book, either!        Make a scene, and that book will be predicting your own death next. ‘

With a dry gulp, the boy followed the murderer in slow steps, still trembling in fear, avoiding looking at him in the eye at all cost.

Ƥlease

reblog this if you would/are willing to rp with a skull kid muse from both the Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask verses of LOZ.

   ❤”Boy, of course I did.”

As Boingo moved himself from behind Jays legs, the demon leaned forward and gave his tall amount of hair a gentle patting.

It was pretty unusual for her to be the one patting someone else’s head, but he was a child, after all.

The demon smiled down to him sweetly, and  clasped her hands together. She didn’t care if he decided to take the money. Everyone was a sinner after all, and she only encouraged it. Even to kids, who were so often persuaded by greed, or neediness.

   ❤”…you’re not the one who stole the money in the first place.

“...”

For the first time in a long while, the boy opened a smile in front of someone aside from his brother, the boy has never met someone quite like the pink-haired demon, someone so understanding and kind. It didn’t took long to feel his heart start to pound as she got closer, but not because he was scared, that feeling vanished a some minutes ago, it was...something different, something that the young boy never have experienced before. Was he...was he starting to like this stranger?

As soon as she started to pat his hair, the young kid looked down with a subtle flush on his face, clenching to his shirt, clumsily trying to hold the money in, keeping himself quiet for quite long seconds, the young boy pulled from the neck of his shirt some dollar bills, offering the lady.