#memoryrot

Don’t wanna. Chacha doesn’t want to go with him...

It took all her concentration to keep herself from manifesting before him - her spirit origin stuck somewhere between the throne of heroes and the real world. She had just barely had a chance to see the Azai bean bags that had been placed in the center of the summoning circle the older Mage had drawn to call her forth. 

She didn’t really know if any other heroic spirit had ever refused a call from a catalyst before, but she was determined to give it everything she had. As much as those beanbags ( representative of the last innocent memory she could enjoy sharing with her two sisters before tragedy would consume all of them ) drew her temptation, she refused to materialize. 

Mages were selfish. They wanted to use servants for wars and other violent ends that Chacha wasn’t interested in. She just wanted to keep this form - to be young and innocent again. Why was that so much to ask for-?

ugh. Chacha doesn’t want to be taken in by another creepy old man...

Everything was starting to hurt. She didn’t have form of magical resistance, so that sort of thing should have been expected. It’s not like servants were meant to resist their own summons.

Even if had stopped chanting his stupid verses, she it’d probably be only a matter of time before he started a new attempt. Who knew what he’d done - or what he’d paid - to get his catalyst, after all. He’d stepped out, but he’d be back. And all she could do was wait - stuck in the place between worlds, stubbornly maintaining her non-physical, spirit form  to refuse him his command seals for just a few minutes more. 

But just as she was starting to resign herself to her fate, she feels a new surge of mana, which lit up the circle the previous mage had drawn for her. She gets to see the face of the the one responsible for just a second - ah! It’s a girl! A child! Perfect! 

This time, she doesn’t hesitate to respond to the catalyst. A bright glow of light accompanies her as she materializes, standing proudly with her hands on her hips in triumph.

“Whahaha! You’re such a sneaky opportunist! Chacha admires your scheming ways! Way to go! Hurray, hurray! ” She couldn’t help but clap, stopping only to pocket the three bean bags on the floor. No way she was leaving them here to be found by someone else. Stupid adult mages and their catalysts! It was no fair!

“Fuck,” the curse came out harsh and breathless as he ducked into a nearby alley, one hand clutching instinctively at his side. He sank slowly to the ground, taking a long moment  (or several) to allow his eyes to flutter close and just breathe. If this city’s villains would just once take the day off, it would be more than appreciated, but that was obviously a foolish wish. Naomasa did not even see what attacked him, and he was dimly aware that he should probably keep moving in case it came back, but the tearing pain in his side just would not lessen. If anything, it steadily grew worse as time ticked by, and he cursed yet again to see nothing but red when he pulled a gloved hand away from it.

Fumbling, he removed the gloves and pressed both of them against the wound with as much pressure as he could possibly bare. A sound registered in his mind, then . . . footsteps? . . . and the free hand flew in an instant to his phone to try to call for backup.

                    touya   generally   despises   admitting   to   his   flaws,   fears   judgement   to   a   great   degree   and   the   shame   that   would   follow   by   a   noose. for   this   matter,   he   supposes,   it   wouldn't   be   too   bad   to   ask   for   assistance.   the   package   of   empty   hair-dye   has   been   sitting   in   his   room   for   a   while   now   collecting   dust,   a   reminder.   

                    it's   time!   the   moment   he   can   see   his   roots   showing,   white   color   shining   through,   his   decision   was   almost   swift   and   mostly   out   of   spite.   he   pulls   out   his   burner   phone   and   calls   toga,   taps   his   feet   in   the   rhythm   of   the   beeps.   

@memoryrot​​  asked [from]

“You shouldn’t be out here all by yourself this late at night.”

“What?” The comment brought him back down to Earth from his daydreaming, and Ryoichi glanced in the direction the voice had come from. He’d been unable to sleep, and had taken to wandering the streets to try to alleviate the burdens that weighed on his mind. The cool night air made him shiver and the thought belatedly crossed his mind that perhaps leaving in only a t-shirt and sweatpants was a bad idea for this time of year.

There were few sounds permeating the silence of the night—the skittering of small animals running to and fro, his light footsteps and the rhythmic tapping of his cane on the pavement ahead of him, and now the sound of this girl’s voice.

@memoryrot​ asked: [ oversized teddy ]  to gift my muse a giant teddy bear.  // from yuzu @ mei ? owo ? 

VALENTINES   INTERACTIONS ! 

There was thinly veiled excitement that shined in Mei’s eyes as they fell onto the oversized teddy bear; even if she fought to make sure that her expression was comfortably blank. Sure, Yuzu was already aware of her fondness towards bears, but it felt much too embarrassing to simply allow her pleasure to overtake her, even as hands reached out to the fuzzy creature; holding it with carefulness in her arms. Purple eyes studied it’s large black eyes, the hearts that were sewed into it’s fur and in the middle of it’s paws.

When she looked back up towards the blonde, her cheeks are colored slightly pink, still holding onto the teddy with a tight grip. Valentine’s had managed to slip right by her notice, and while there was pleasure and appreciation bubbling to the surface, there was also a small hint of guilt.

“... I didn’t get you anything...” She admits softly, gaze falling; lips pursing slightly. The day was still far from over, a part of her whispered in her mind. She still had time to make it up to her.

    The hero life wasn’t always glamorous and exciting. Sometimes it’s quiet city nights, tasty bowls of ramen from little food carts on the sidewalk, occasional chatter with people out for a night on the city. Sometimes things were just quiet. At least until they’re not. Ken, or Polaris as she’s called in costume, darted through the street, hardly at all slowed by the massive magnet across her back, to respond to an emergency call. An assault, no known casualties, but always be prepared.

                  “ Don’t you dare take another step. “

Shoto already stood with hands at the ready, with a fixed glare in the girl’s direction but otherwise seemingly calm.

He may appear quite at ease, but in all honesty he was on guard. After all, he could not forget just how dangerous she was, especially after everything he had witnessed and even heard from Midoriya. She may appear to be a normal, relatively unassuming high school girl, but she could be seriously deadly.

Her crazed aura gave off as much.

                  “ I can easily freeze or burn you even from this distance. “ he continued to warn her, still making sure to keep his eyes on her in case she tried anything funny.                   “ ... What are you doing here? “

"I thought it'd be appropriate for us to have something to celebrate making it this far in our lives. A surprising feat, given everything - I believe. "

 Misato offered an arguably poor excuse for the box of chocolates she offers Abigail. She didn't have much to cover this up - the fact that she's never really had any friends to share this old Japanese tradition with.