đđĽđĽđ¨đ° đŚđ đđ¨ đŹđĄđ¨đ° đ˛đ¨đŽ đđĄđ đđŤđŽđđĄ đ˛đ¨đŽ'đŻđ đđđđ§ đ˘đ đ§đ¨đŤđ˘đ§đ .
RULES âŚÂ ABOUT âŚÂ HEADCANONS âŚÂ INTERACTION
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

#extradirty
Cosimo Galluzzi

JBB: An Artblog!

Kiana Khansmith
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
wallacepolsom
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Jules of Nature

styofa doing anything

shark vs the universe
Acquired Stardust

blake kathryn
đŞź
ojovivo
One Nice Bug Per Day
seen from Malaysia
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from United States

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seen from United States

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@hypegumi
đđĽđĽđ¨đ° đŚđ đđ¨ đŹđĄđ¨đ° đ˛đ¨đŽ đđĄđ đđŤđŽđđĄ đ˛đ¨đŽ'đŻđ đđđđ§ đ˘đ đ§đ¨đŤđ˘đ§đ .
RULES âŚÂ ABOUT âŚÂ HEADCANONS âŚÂ INTERACTION

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đŤđđĽđđđ˘đ¨đ§đŹđĄđ˘đŠ đ°đ˘đŹđĄđĽđ˘đŹđ đŚđđŚđ !
  do  you  want  a  certain  kind  of  ship  with  my  muse ?  check  out  the  key  below  &  send  me  a  symbol  to  tell  me  what  kind  of  ship  you  want  !   note :  my  muse  =  blog  ownerâs  muse   /   your  muse  =  senderâs  muses
romantic relationships !
đ friends to lovers âŁď¸Â enemies to lovers đ love at first sight đ slow burn đ skinny love đ exes to lovers again 𤠠on again , off again
familial relationships !
đźÂ older sibling đşÂ younger sibling đ twins đťÂ friends like siblings đ cousins đľÂ parental
friend relationships !
âď¸Â  best friends đŚÂ  enemies to friends đ  friends since childhood  â ď¸Â friends of circumstance  âď¸Â school friends  đŠÂ friends from traumatic experiences
enemy relationships !
đŞÂ  friends to enemies đŁÂ  stole something from my muse đŚÂ  stole something from your muse đĄÂ  bullied my muse đŤÂ  bullied your muse âď¸Â  family feud đ   fueds between mutual friends â  guilty by association
what symphony are you?
CODA: THE FINALE
You are what everyone has been waiting for all along -- the final passage which everyone had yearned for all their lives till alas you came through in the light from the darkness and gave them the beauty of both. Though many are afraid of you in secret, they hope to catch a glimpse of you, perhaps from behind a curtain, for you are the love behind the scenes that no one knew they were missing till they found they could not live without you. You deserve the recognition you yearn for, and though time seems only to flee or stop, your heart beats all the same. You are the fire that cannot die. You are the brilliance that, once one has felt it from you, they cannot forget. Your song: The Firebird Suite Final Hymn by Stravinksy
affordtoloseâ:
âIâd be delighted, Miss.â Heâll nod, moving to match pace as he walks. âThis place⌠Itâs looking better by the day. Someone must be hard at work on the renovations.â Heâll use that for lack of a better word. It was true, anyway. Even with the base code, the amount of effort this took must have been enormous. The speed of recovery was no less impressive. It seems the Reapers from Shinjuku could be constructive, when they chose to be.
The evening glow of the city was only matched by the encroaching shade of unlit alleyways, adding a layer of evening mystery foreign to Shibuya. Something about it was⌠Exciting, in a dangerous sort of way. The very rhythm of this place was different than his own, a well composed tune in a different key. A song of a whole new genre.
Joshua, of course, knew he was very out of place. In a sense, this could be seen as trespassing, but the evening was much to lovely to spare much of a thought to frivolous things like that. âIâm Yoshiya, by the way. Yoshiya Kiryu. But you can call me Joshua, if you like.â
The invitation stood, but it didnât much matter if she decided to take it or not. Violet eyes scanned the city once more, almost as if the stranger couldnât get enough of the sight. There was something⌠hopeful about it. Something about those who cared about this place resurrecting it from memory alone. The Shinjuku they knew was dead and gone⌠But could they make something better?
âSay, what do you like about this city, anyway?â
Something was strange about this young man, but she could not quite put her finger on it. It felt as though he knew that this place was being changed, but how was that possible?
In the end, she settled for the simplest reason: he'd seen Shinjuku before and after. Perhaps he was a visitor from Shibuya, well aware of the city's layout then, but not now, but what are the odds?
Nevertheless, he looked oddly familiar. Tsugumi was certain they've met before, but it was probably for a brief moment â short enough so that she couldn't remember him.
"I'm Tsugumi," she introduced herself, smiling. "Tsugumi Matsunae. Pleasure to meet you, Josh."
As they strolled down the streets, he eventually asked her a question. It left her puzzled, but she supposed it was a method of getting to know each other.
"It feels like home. Or rather, it is home," she replied, falling into the space beside him. "I grew up here, after all. When I died, I had all the time in the world to explore every crook and nanny of Shinjuku. It just feels like... an accomplishment to know the best places to go in the city, to know what's in store for them."
shibuyacrossedâ:
Neku had claimed to ânot getâ people in his youth. He hadnât cared to fix that about himself until heâd been forced to, and now, he couldnât imagine a life without others. Fate was a fan of irony though, it seemed, as the moment heâd become comfortable around, no- dependent on people, everyone was taken away from him.
There hadnât been anyone to talk to in Shinjuku, the only sounds ones that emanated from Neku himself. Not even his headphones or MP3 player seemed to work there. Any conversation had to come from Neku himself. There wasnât anyone to talk to (unless you counted the fragmented thoughts that lingered in the ghost-district) but he talked anyway.
He talked to the cousin heâd never gotten to meet. He apologised for taking his death the way he had, and told him he wished he was doing well, wherever he might be now. There was never an answer. He never expected there to be one. He was just. the only person Neku could think of to talk to.
Once heâd returned, he made it part of his schedule to visit the gravestone that heâd so valiantly avoided growing up. Heâd come prepared with the most expensive bouquet of flowers he could afford in an attempt to make up for lost time. Who knows, with everything Neku had learned about the afterlife⌠Maybe he was still out there, somewhere.
He hesitated on his way over to the headstone. He remembered where it was after all of this time, but he couldnât help but notice her. Though her voice was quiet, her words were clear in the quietness of the cemetery. It wasnât any of his business. They hardly knew each other. Neku just⌠felt like he knew her more because of the visions heâd seen of her⌠They werenât friends, despite how Neku felt. Still, it felt wrong to just ignore her.
Slowly, he moved to stand by her side, glancing at the name on the tombstone as he tried to discern who she was here to visit. The surname matched her own, and Neku felt his heart drop in his chest.
âIâm⌠sorry.â It was all he could think of to say.
"Shinjuku was a lost cause, even if he tried to fight it. At least I'm alive to carry on where he stopped," Tsugumi pointed out, dusting her skirt as she rose to her feet. She turned to Neku and did a curtsy. When she noticed the bouquet of flowers, the dots connected and she offered a quiet apology as well.
"I hope you don't mind me accompanying you," Tsugumi requested. "I'd like to know more about you, Neku Sakuraba. The circumstances that we met under weren't... ideal, to say the least."
It truly wasn't. All she knew about him was through the visions she sent out into the world; it could only be deciphered by those with incredibly high Imagination... and Neku was one of the two who received her message, the other being Rindo. They barely had time to breathe before they parted ways, determined right their wrongs.
"How've you been?" she asked. "Is it weird adjusting back to the RG?"

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mindtwistersâ:
Man, Rhymeâs work was still fantastic. Being able to break the UG from the RG was magical in itself. Fret looked down at his messages from Tsugumi as he stood outside of the shop. He seemed perked up, his indigo eyes rereading the messages they passed from one to another. He didnât get to talk to her much during everything, so it was nice to catch up a bit.Â
His eyes caught her movement, and he raised a hand and waved back to her. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he gave her his signature smile. âYeah! This is how we get some quality âmen!â Regardless of how he said it, heâll open the door with a hand. Heâll keep it open for her to walk inside. âThough, thereâs two different curry places here. It is *all* so good, too! Though, I kind of have a favorite.âÂ
A warm, fragrant scent wafted across her nostrils in an instant. After giving Fret a grateful smile, she walked to the back of the restaurant so they could have some privacy. In the midst of his rambling, Fret mentioned a favorite dish, which caught her attention.
âI trust your taste in quality âmen,â she giggled, well aware of what was mentioned earlier. âIâll get whatever ramen you recommend. Shibuyaâs up your alley, so they say.â
Reblog if youâre open to improvisational rp and just âwinging itâ with threads
Whether itâs the first interactions between the muses so the chemistry is still up in the air and itâs still unknown as to whether or not theyâll click before potential plotting, or the muses have too much minds of their own and run wild the moment you set them loose in a thread, plotting is hard and occasionally your pre-planned threads jump the track and go in totally different directions than anticipated thanks to the musesâ creative differences. Reblog this to let your rp partners know that you donât mind simply jumping straight into in-character interactions and threads.
akashicmusesâ:
Yes, Shiba could remember clearly. The sight of Conductor Matsunae fighting all on his lonesome, drawn out by the panic of Shibaâs Plague Noise tearing into everything. Shiba could remember how his blood had burned when heâd ambushed him, the way Shibaâs heart pumped when the fight startedâŚ
Shiba turned his eyes back to Tsugumi. Words that Shiba meant to be comforting emerging before he could think about it. âHe fought well.â
âButâback to the topic on hand,â Shiba added quickly, crossing one leg over the other and sitting back against the bench. âA Composer, as I understand it, is responsible for maintaining the rules and fabric of the Underground. Without one, the UG will inevitably fizzle out no matter how hard we try to repair it.â
âSo, what do you think, Tsugumi?â
Tsugumi hummed pensively. There was no way to alleviate Shiba's discomfort. It seemed unsettling to be around her too, but she figured if it was her in his shoes...
Her mind spun; it wasn't a thought she wanted to entertain. She retuned herself to Shiba's words as he spoke about how their efforts were for naught if the Composer wasn't around, which implied that Shinjuku still had its Composer.
An idea seeped into her mind. A terrible one.
"If that's the case, should I look for The Composer?" Tsugumi asked as she gripped the hem of her skirt. "The fact that our efforts haven't been interrupted or decimated means Shinjuku still has its Composer, but whether it's the same one is another story."
Apologies for my delay in post. Real life has been tiring for me so Iâve been spending more time sleeping, both in bed and at the computer. Iâll catch up with my threads as soon as possible when I have inspiration and muse for it... and in order for that to happen, I need energy.Â
extremepathâ:
It was an unusual request, to say the very least. Kaie looked upon the old phone, puzzled, listening to her reason. A reason that made his heart sink, that made it feel sore, putting a small frown on his face. Of course, he doesnât say anything, he just holds out his hand to receive the phone in question, offering Tsugumi a smile that doesnât say much, but expresses a willingness at the very least. Though, being honest with himself, he knows that itâs not going to be easy to do what sheâs hoping for, but heâs not going to deny Tsugumi this one thing.
Using his free hand, Kaie unlocks his own phone and begins typing, and before long heâs turning the screen to face Tsugumi so she can read what was written; [ I havenât seen one of these in quite a while! :0 I can tell youâve taken good care of it. I think I can help you â- or, at the very least, make some small changes. Itâs going to take some time, though, so I may have to ask that you leave it in my care. Are you certain you want to do that? :X ]
Kaie's frown didn't go unnoticed. For a moment, Tsugumi wondered if this was beyond his abilities, but he smiled and held out his hand. As she gently placed her phone into his care, she let him inspect him ever so carefully and then type out a message for her to see.
"Thank you. You're too kind," Tsugumi said. She read the rest of his sentence, then waved him off. "It's fine. I'm in no hurry. There's so many things that... well, I don't think I can look at it."
It was far from the truth, but it'd suffice for now. There was no point in making herself sad, but Tsugumi knew she needed a friend to talk to... and Kaie was the person she could probably glean some insight from.
"Are you surprised that I'm holding onto something so ancient?" Tsugumi asked. "Everyone is already past their prime. But here I am, hoping for something I won't see for a long time."

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Like this if youâd like a starter from Tsugumi! Iâm interested in getting her out there more!
akashicmusesâ:
Shiba canât help but laugh at the fake threat. Not because he found the threat funny. It was the idea that Tsugumi would have helped him to reconstruct Shinjuku and then erased him once they all completed it in a grab for power? Not because he found it funny in of itself. The viciousness and brutality was so profound he might have respected it. (And after what heâd done to her brother, would Shiba really have any right to complain about such a fate?)
Shiba quieted down after a moment, following her at a respectable distance. There was a slight moment of hesitation before he sat with her. His hand dug a lighter from his pocket, and he began to thumb it open and closed.
âIt is my understanding that the only way to become Composer is to snuff out the current one. That is the only procedure that exists, no matter what the circumstances are. In the event that the Composer has vacated their position without being âformally retiredââŚ? Well, I suppose that would a mess for someone else to sort out.â Shibaâs smile grew a little more plastic. âDo you know what the fate of Shinjukuâs Composer was, Tsugumi?â
Had her brother told her before heâd died?
Tsugumi's answer to Shiba's question was a shake of her head. She had no idea where Shinjuku's Composer was. Her brother was fairly tight-lipped about his duties as the city's Conductor, even more so when she once tried to ask about him.
"I have no idea. I only saw my brother fighting for Shinjuku," she remarked. "Or at least, he tried to. I didn't see anyone else fighting with him."
She sighed and turned to Shiba. With a smile, she said, "Probably one of the rules we should establish is what to do when there's no Conductor or Composer available. What do you think?"
It was late, and Uzuki was rather tired. Getting things back in order was proving exhausting.
So she didnât pay too much attention to her surroundings as she made her way back to the apartment she shared with Kariya. She was just focused on getting home as quick as she could.
Needless to say, the sudden interaction startled her.
She blinked for a moment, staring at the girl. She recognized her, of course she did. She wanted to be mad at the girl, but she justâŚcouldnât.
ââŚThatâsâŚâ She didnât know what to say. ââŚThatâs not really necessary.â
She does take Tsugumiâs hand for a moment though, if the other girl was going to make an attempt, then she should too.
ââŚI accept the apology.â It meant more to her than she would let on. âYou allâŚâ She really didnât know what to say, given the circumstances. ââŚIâmâŚjust glad youâre all working on getting your home fixed.â
For all the anger and resentment she held over what the Shinjuku Reapers had done, she knew taking it out on Tsugumi wouldnât change anything. Uzuki had done a lot of growing up those three years.
"I'm glad too. It's coming along together quite nicely," Tsugumi remarked, smiling when Uzuki returned the handshake. "Perhaps a little too quickly. The Souls are returning to where they initially came from... but there's nothing we can do about the Players."
She gestured for the other lady to follow her all the way to a cafe, located not too far from where they were. It was a retro diner, filled with all sorts of food from Italian meals to sweets. Uzuki looked tired and a little pick-me-up seemed like a good opportunity to start their meeting off.
Thankfully, no one else was there except the shopkeeper, who was spending her time cleaning the cafe. When they found a seat and got their menu, Tsugumi continued.
"Coco brought me here before," she explained. "Did she ever bring you around?"
akashicmusesâ:
Shiba canât help but laugh at the fake threat. Not because he found the threat funny. It was the idea that Tsugumi would have helped him to reconstruct Shinjuku and then erased him once they all completed it in a grab for power? Not because he found it funny in of itself. The viciousness and brutality was so profound he might have respected it. (And after what heâd done to her brother, would Shiba really have any right to complain about such a fate?)
Shiba quieted down after a moment, following her at a respectable distance. There was a slight moment of hesitation before he sat with her. His hand dug a lighter from his pocket, and he began to thumb it open and closed.
âIt is my understanding that the only way to become Composer is to snuff out the current one. That is the only procedure that exists, no matter what the circumstances are. In the event that the Composer has vacated their position without being âformally retiredââŚ? Well, I suppose that would a mess for someone else to sort out.â Shibaâs smile grew a little more plastic. âDo you know what the fate of Shinjukuâs Composer was, Tsugumi?â
Had her brother told her before heâd died?
Tsugumi offered him a grim smile. He truly didn't know what happened afterwards, did he? That she witnessed the fall of Shinjuku from her immobile state. Her attention was then directed to the ground.
"My brother might've still had a fighting chance of saving Shinjuku... but I saw it all: he tried to protect me with whatever he had left," she managed, then snapped out of her self-pity. "His sacrifice was worth it though. We're here now, so we shouldn't mourn."
But her heart said otherwise. She knew that there was a long overdue visit, a long overdue message to write her final words on paper, turn it into a crane and send it into the skies. If there was a way to gather her brother's Soul and reform it, Tsugumi had a feeling she would.
"I'm aware that my brother was Shinjuku's Conductor," she added on. "If that's what you'd like to know. I wish he was here though. Heâd know what to do."
hypegumiâ:
Tsugumi did not answer his question as he wanted. Â She remain where she stood, listened to his own thoughts about the city. He might have sounded like he was regretful about his death, but his words were hollow; it lacked the weight of someone who lived, even for the slightest moment.
That was the moment Tsugumi realised she could not let her guard down.
She skipped across the path until she reached the young man; something about him seemed familiar, but she could not recall what it was. Her gaze drifted across his form, frowning at the phoenix symbols on the front of his jacket, and eventually settling on the camo-print shoes on his feet.
âDeath provides a different perspective,â Tsugumi said as her eyes flickered upwards. âIâm sure that howâs it works in the RG: when one is aware that their time has come, Â a river of thoughts stream through their head. Perhaps memories, perhaps something else.â
She paused, then continued, âAt least, thatâs how it felt like for me. I suppose you didnât like the city while you were alive.â
Hazuki swiveled to face his newfound peer, the both of them awash in rain and the neon glow that bathed Memory Lane. Tsugumi Matsunae looked as serious as she always did, her headphones on, her bowtie perfectly secured at her neck as if it were a hand reaching from the grave. He wondered, absently, if her brother taught her how to tie it.
He knew her, tangentially. If the bespectacled Hishima were Shiba Miyakazeâs cool right hand, she stood out as his left. Steady, reliable, powerful, she was Shinjukuâs sole remaining queen⌠what with Ayano dead, Shoka gone, and her little colorful friend an outsider at best.
Her spiel about death and life and valuing it all landed uninterrupted, though Haz paid it little heed. Shinjuku was his rearing ground. He knew every nook and cranny of it, and there was nowhere within the city that one could hide from him without the risk of being found. He held as intimate a knowledge of it as he did his own body.
Itâs the back of my hand, he thought, wryly.
âIt must be different for everyone,â he mused. âI certainly never saw anything like that. Then again, itâs been a long time since I died, so can say?â
Hazuki raised a noncommittal hand as if to dismiss his perspective on the matter. Shinjuku was a city built from ash, and its bones still showed that. Whether or not he liked it didnât matter all that much. Water was still a necessity, whether someone liked drinking it or not. Shinjuku was a part of him in that same sense, whether he loved it or hated it or let it lay somewhere between both poles.
He ran a hand along the wooden wall that separated the restaurant he stood in front of from the next, and then crouched to trace fingers over the concrete as if investigating it for signs of a pulse. In a way, he was.
âIt used to be a very hopeful place, once. Did you know that over ninety-percent of the city was destroyed, during the war?â
Haz rose to his feet and took a step closer, gesturing to the buildings around them.
âItâs city built from ash,â he said, reiterating his Haz-only thought from before. She was privvy to that information, at the very least, whether she knew it or not. âA real-life phoenix. Itâll always exist, somewhere, as long as itâs got ash left to grow in.â
He flicked the rain from his fingertips.
âWhat about you, Miss Matsunae? Are you a Swallows fan?â
While Tsugumi let him continue, something didn't seem quite right: there was a vagueness to the words that she couldn't put any figures to. In his explanation, he explained that he died long ago, but he didn't specify when. The only clue she ever received was the mention about a war, right before her name was uttered.
She hadn't introduced herself, so how did he know her?
She leapt away from him as soon as she realized that and raised her arms in a defensive position.
"Who are you?" Tsugumi demanded. "Where did you learn my name from?"

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@lollipopsandgunshots || apologies in the afterhours
After some arrangements, Tsugumi made her way back to Shibuya, intent on finding Uzuki Yashiro. She was the acting Game Master prior to Shiba taking over. A part of her knew that it was imperative that Shinjuku was rebuilt, Tsugumi felt terrible for leaving Shibuya behind... without making amends or an official apology to The Shibuya Reapers.
It was late at night and most stores were about to close, but that didn't stop Tsugumi from speeding through the streets of Shibuya until she caught sight of Uzuki Yashiro. She rushed forward, tapped the lady on the shoulder and waved at her.
"I was just looking for you. I apologise for the sudden intrusion but perhaps we could have dinner together?" Tsugumi requested. "It's my treat. I know a place that's really good... and that's open late."
She extended a hand.
"I'm Tsugumi Matsunae. I'd like to apologise for what us Shinjuku Reapers have done."
groovepawnâ:
Tsugumi.â
Tsugumi felt as if she was being strung along by a needle and thread. As each tug intensified, she realised the needlerâs purpose: to free her from her stuffed animal. When her Soul reunited with her body, she blinked the red from her eyes until it completely faded.
Shiki Misaki was the first thing â or rather, the first person â she saw. As she glanced around the room, she noticed that they were in an empty cafe; her body had been propped against the wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. Mr. Mew, who was in better shape than ever before, sat on her lap.
When their eyes connected, Tsugumi Matsunae knew what she must do.
âThank you,â she managed, grasping Shikiâs hands within her own.
Relief shows clear on her face as the young woman manages to part her eyelashes; the corruption dissipates from her gaze after a moment, and Shiki could tellâthis was the genuine deal. It was a blessing to meet her, the real her. âTsugumiâŚ!â she exhales a quiet sigh of respite. She takes the girlâs hands in both of hers as well, holding them for a moment. âThank goodness.â
She usher her sit up a touch straighter so sheâs not slumped against the wall like a rag doll; after all, inanimate wasnât a good look on her anymore. âCareful,â she said quietly. âYouâve⌠been through a lot.â Sheâs sure she neednât explain much.
âButâyouâre safe now,â she reassures her. âMy nameâs Shiki.â A little laugh resounds as she looks down at the plush in Tsugumiâs lap. âIâm the one who created the doll youâve been carrying around.â Or should she say, the doll that had been carrying her.
"I know who you are. I could still hear and see everything from Mr. Mew," Tsugumi explained as Shiki assisted her to a more comfortable position. Grabbing a chair, she sat down while gesturing to the seat opposite her. Her eyes scanned the outside of the cafe, alarmed at the mass of Noise gathered right outside.
"I think Noise get more aggressive when they sense a Soul trapped," she remarked. "You can't see them... but there's a war raging out there. The worlds are close to colliding and this is the day of reckoning."
She smiled at the girl, then held up the stuffed animal she grabbed from the floor earlier.
"You've made a great protector," she remarked. "Heâs a reflection of your heart."