mortisamicus

what animals the character likes and if they have a pet/pets

“Iori said that it’s a really good film ! It’s mostly ACTION but — ah, I think it has some romance  in it as well.” This addition is joined by a playful grin; he’s far from discreet about his intentions in any situation, least of all in front of this girl.

how the character feels about murder

It is tragedy to lose someone, but only in so much as it relates to his own life; his heart aches to know that death means SEPARATION from those he loves, but he can face it with solemn acceptance when death acts as it oughtto— indiscriminately, fairly. MURDER is a breech in therules, a life cut short too soon, too abruptly; perhaps it isthe spirit of Thanatos that grants him sangfroid in the presence of death, but perhaps it is this same influencewhich sends chills down his spine at the mention of murder; to die is natural, but to devise a death for another, and outof hatred no less, is playing with fate in a way that unsettles him.

what makes the character blush

what flusters the character

It would be fair to say EVERYTHING — pretty girls, pretty boys, kind words, honest words, sunsets, sunrises, smiles, laughter, the way people act when there’s no one to judge them; this ingenue heart is weak to the many lures of the world, prone tofluttering with even the slightness breeze. 

the character’s “guilty” pleasure

dad

✏ What is/was your favorite subject in school? }

I’m sort of a nerd so this is tough. Probably languages in general? Vocabulary and grammar are usually what I’m best at, so English and French are definitely top choices for me. 

🎧 What kind of music do you like to listen to? }

      RUNNING —— it meant               to HIDE. obscured by the shadows, by       illusions of PEACE and tranquility,    hiding and running were no different.       to hide was simply to forsake the last year and embark on a newer, albeit       shorter, journey that would end without any knowledge of their impending       doom. ( miki, cinders and ashes, the   debris of a BURNT orphanage, the       death of his only sister is a remembered well; shinji, blood and gunshots,        the taste of gun smoke still lingers on his tongue,  the scent of lilies from       the funeral are ingrained   in his mind. the boy’s sacrifice, he remembers       VIVIDLY.  now, think,       child : did they die so  you could die without so       much as a single whisper of resistance? )

       ——– never again, he promised,  never again would he RUN. never        would he choose the simpler route as a result of selfishness. a choice        that seemed so significant, but       it was made so easily. it made him        wonder : every ounce of bravery, as some would call it, muddled by a        constant ache,      a constant longing, was this his HEART or his MIND        speaking? his heart had yearned for peaceful days, yet his mind could        not fathom a life without these struggles.

                                         repetition is all he offers.

      ❝ no. i said i’m not running, ryoji.                 i’m NOT going to let my memories be taken from me.                  how i die … should be decided by me —– the same                 ME      that spent the entire year fighting in tartarus. ❞ 

      DEATH and DEVASTATION, as it seemed, was inevitable. but he wanted       to look it ( this MATERNAL BEING ) straight in the the eyes.    those cold       ruthless, merciless, innocent - killing eyes. shake and tremble,     he may       —— but he would never forgive himself if he were to run from this.

It’s the cruellest irony that he who plunged them into this abyss is the one most lost in it; Akihiko is practically a  seasoned soldier — he grew up on this battlefield, while Ryoji was more planted in it, an explosive, a time bomb — of course the boy says FIGHT while he says run. All Ryoji knows is the destruction he’ll cause; he’s been aware of this world not long enough to be swayed by any promises of victory, but enough to be ingrained with the inevitably of defeat. 

Hope to him means being prompt enough to outrun the storm, hope to him means numbing yourself before you’re wounded, hope to him means it will be over before you know it’s  begun.

It CHILLS him — that HE is afraid while Akihiko stands  tall; does he not grasp the severity? does he not understand the FINALITY? He is silent and watchful even after he has finished speaking, picking apart what he can of the boy’s  visage in the dull light of winter for some clue as to the  reason behind this incomprehensible NEED to struggle for nothing. If HE had the choice of living in blissful ignorance of what was to come, Ryoji would choose it heartbeat; he  would choose happiness; he would choose running. 

Maybe it’s bitterness. — An unfamiliar feeling accompanying  the all too familiar tightening of his chest. It’s something more visceral; it burns at the back of his throat when he speaks. 

“It’s your life,” his resignation is sharp, but it follows the brief silence without argument; Akihiko’s stance is clear. “Do what you will.”

His hands drop to his sides, and for the first time in his OWN memories he forces a smile. 

“I HOPE you prove me wrong. I’d like to think that it’s possible.”

— For a brief moment he allows himself to entertain the thought; a couple of months ago he would have thought it was impossible that he was a harbinger of death, that his friends had been fighting monsters every night, that he’d play a part in the apocalypse.  THIS is a certainty he feels in his bones, but he allows himself to entertain the possibility that chance still plays a role, if only to  stave off the resentment. 

      Damn it.

      He might take back that thought about it being nice walking with Ryoji just because of how cheesy that line was. His expression doesn’t change, rather he just sighs. He’s usually one to react to jokes like that with deadpanned disappointment. 

      “…I’d give you a D.” He says, truthful, though that would be a lenient score. Their actual teacher might just fail him for trying to hit on her. 

      Minato’s never really sure, though, if Ryoji’s attempts to hit on him are genuine, or just plain him messing around to try and get a reaction. Because he doesn’t even really receive a reaction. 

           A flash of DEFEAT; for a brief moment the valiant warrior that is Ryoji’s good humour falls to the worthy foe of Minato’s indifference, smile held up only by the gradual nature of realisation -- expression too slow to react fully to the momentary loss, he is half mischievous grin and half dumb shock, brow furrowed, eyes wide. The fight to regain ebullience results only in freezing his expression here, and his tone of voice follows suit. 

           “That’s harsh, Arisato.” His voice is strained -- but COMICALLY so, offence too shallow to even be worthy of his better impressions. His shoulders lift in a shrug, and a sigh that carries just a hint of the laugh he’s trying to hold back escapes his lips. “But I UNDERSTAND. You have to be cruel to be kind, isn’t that what they say?” 

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               «  Y-You again?  Ah– !  If you were looking                for Iori then I fear you got to the wrong                 floor…   »

  ♥ @mortisamicus  has been charmed ♥ -starter-

He’s a deer in the headlights; eyes wide, face pale, posture unnaturally stiff — the guise of discretion fits him loosely, a  presence so blaring that even sans vibrant yellow scarf he’d set off alarm bells. Of all the things to be caught doing, this is not the worst — it’s no prank or scheme of Junpei’s creation — but it’s getting late to call a visit wholly innocent (even if it IS). His smile is crooked when he flashes it in Mitsuru’s direction, one side tugged down by the pressure of having to explain  himself. 

“No, not Iori ! I was looking for... ah...” it’s not important, his frantic hand gesture ensures; at least, it isn’t now. He’d have to see them another day. “— someone to talk to.” 

There’s an upward inflection on the end of the sentence, as though posing it as a question to his upperclassman. 

“Question? If it is meant for Iori, I might not be of great help, but I’ll try my best to give you an answer. Shoot.”

Akihiko and Junpei are total different people. Most of the times, they cannot see things in the same perspective. Perhaps being rash is the only common feature that joins them, anything else falls away. 

“I hope it is not about a game because I am not expert as him.”

           His lacklustre acceptance is all the ENCOURAGEMENT Ryoji needs; with Akihiko’s permission, he bounds into conversation head first, any previous hesitation completely forgotten. He throws his hands up to rest behind his neck, resembling more the immature schoolboy now -- grin somewhere between defeated and unaffected -- than he did in his more contemplative moment.

         “You caught me -- it’s PART of a game,” He furrows his brow. “But really, you’ll be more help than you’d think ! It’s, ah, a puzzle! A riddle, actually.” 

          He’s speaking so quickly that he loses track of what he’s saying (a common occurrence), so he takes a moment to remember himself. 

Character Aesthetic }

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