hold my own.

//throwing this disaster of a kid back in the game

What a hassle.

Instead of spending his time doing something that’s actually productive, he’s here in one of Chamomile’s mini marts— picking up all the canned goods that have been scattered all over the floor. He didn’t even cause the accident. He just happened to be passing by when this girl somehow decided that it would be the right time to suddenly crash into him and knock down a nearby shelf. 

With as little care as he has for this city, he would have just shrugged it off but his conscience couldn’t help but tug him back. He doesn’t want to be an inconvenience to the mini mart’s employees and judging by how the girl is also still here, picking up cans with him, it appears she thinks the same.

You’re too young to be a criminal, you know.

Kyouka’s expression falters at his words, lips forming into a thin line. She is, isn’t she? Yet that didn’t stop her, even if it was against her will. Such things will haunt her, even in the way she moves and acts. Escaping it was her goal, and yet-

…

It’s silly, letting a small comment affect her thoughts so quickly. A quick shake of the head, before her eyes move towards the other. She stays quiet for a moment, before beginning to speak once more.

“Where is the toy store?”

She truly has no idea, the claw machine being at the very front of the shopping center. 

There is a brief moment of the girl seemingly losing herself in her thoughts but before Hitoshi could even ask what’s on her mind, she immediately goes back to the situation at hand. Nevertheless, that doesn’t escape his notice and he takes a mental note to ask about it if he gets the chance. His criminal comment must have triggered something and if there’s something more felonious about this girl than she lets on, then he deems it his responsibility to find that out as a hero.

He takes a quick gander of their surroundings in search of the toy store. This is the first time he’s been here after all so he isn’t exactly the most reliable tour guide. He sees the shopping center displayed just right in front of the claw machine and for a second, he feels like an idiot. Then again, the girl didn’t notice that either so that makes them both idiots.

The longer this interaction goes on the more Nicolette begins to realize that it is completely out of her hands now. It’s an unfortunate and difficult thing for her to accept, because she prides herself in her resilience and ability to adapt, usually able to take care of any situation that may come her way. Yet here she is, asking someone else for help, and a child no less. It really bothers her, but for reasons she’s entirely unwilling to admit aloud, let alone to herself. She’ll just call it EMBARRASSMENT, if only to ignore the more pressing, deep seeded issue.

She’s not supposed to need ANYONE else. It’s a weakness. Not like there’s ever been anyone to help her before.

However, there’s nothing else to do but welcome the situation as it is. Her reflexes are too slow now, impaired by all the booze in her system. This kid, though, seems eager to offer his assistance; she can’t help the lopsided smile that rests upon her previously guarded expression as he struggles to get the words out, seemingly trying to REASSURE her. It’s apparent that his newfound responsibility of heroism is a new experience, but he’s intent on fulfilling it all the same. ❛ How endearing, ❜ she thinks, feeling a little guilty for the pressure she’s inadvertently put upon his shoulders.

❝ Yeah, you really saved me a lot of trouble! ❞ she offers, attempting to stroke his ego if only a little. ❝ I would’ve been in a real pinch if you hadn’t stepped in all COOL and BRAVE just now! ❞

A HERO, he calls himself. Such a self righteous claim to make, and yet said without an ounce of superiority. He’s not smug, just earnest. It’s sincere, and she pities him ( his NAIVETY ), but there’s resentment too. Maybe if there’d been someone like him back when she’d needed saving, she wouldn’t be the VILLAIN she is today.

❝ He… ❞ She hesitates at the question, unsure how to explain it and concerned her reason for violence will be deemed insufficient. Perhaps then the little hero would turn those restraints on her. ❝ It’s kind of… ADULT, if you know what I mean. The things he was doing and saying… I’d really rather not talk about it. It would just be better if he would leave… if only we could MAKE him go home. ❞

Cool and brave.

Those are words some of his classmates would describe him as but they never seem to mean as much to him as they do now. He’s not one to give a damn about what others think of him but when a damsel in distress has described him in those very same words, it hits him differently. He’s still not quite certain why that is but it’s definitely shoving him in between a swell of pride and a touch of awkwardness.

❝Adult...? Oh.❞ Perhaps he should have seen that answer coming, then maybe he wouldn’t have to make the woman explain her extremely uncomfortable situation. But now that his suspicions have been right, he diverts his gaze back at her assailant— the look of uncertainty on his face slowly curling to a disgusted scowl. He tightens the binds wrapped around the man’s throat, not enough to choke but enough to make him writhe in sheer panic.

❝If it were up to me, you’d be behind bars by now.❞ The young aspiring hero says, the tone of his voice picking up with newfound confidence and resentment. The very image of this horrendous man harassing this harmless girl is cutting his patience short. ❝But you’re lucky she’s nice enough to let you off the hook. For now.❞ For a second or more, he yanks the binds tighter and small, ragged gasps escape the man’s throat. But Hitoshi doesn’t let this last long because he then eventually loosens his grip until the binds are no longer seizing anyone— allowing the attacker to crash down to the ground. 

❝Catch your breath then get out of my sight.❞ Hitoshi hauls his binds back to his clutches and gives the girl another glance. ❝Are you going to be okay—❞

❝I’m not going anywhere until that bitch returns what doesn’t belong to her!❞

Hitoshi pauses upon being interrupted and turns back to find blood trailing down the man’s face, almost as though he got hit on the head by something hard. And yet, Hitoshi doesn’t remember attacking him with anything aside from his capturing weapon. He looks back at who he still wants to believe is the victim in this whole mess, his brows stitched together in concern and confusion.

twitter drop! ฅ(≚ᄌ≚)

decided to join the twitter community (even tho i’ve had that acct since 2017 but never really used it). im still not sure who to follow so i’ll be following back fellow rpers

oop almost every person i have a thread with is now either inactive or has dropped so im just gonna have to drop all my running threads to start fresh. but ofc, if you want to continue ours, just IM me!

A sigh ejected between gritted teeth, Shōta’s entangled form flopped flat on the ground ensuing a long and defeating struggle against his capture weapon’s alloyed binds. The only thing he’d succeeded in capturing so far was himself! presently immobilised like a kitten muddled in yarn and rapidly losing blood flow in all extremities. 

Frustrated by his own inadequacy, gloomy eyes ascended to an equally gloomy sky above him, dark grey clouds threatening to split open and soak him to the bone. Just what he needed. With no desire to end up caught in the downpour, his lust for escape was renewed. Shōta sat up, methodically writhing parts of his body in a bid to loosen the restraints around him.

The effort sucked up so much of his concentration, he failed to notice another boy staring unblinkingly at him until he’d managed to wriggle one shoulder free at last. He had no idea what this kid’s deal was, but the scrutiny made him uncomfortable, doubling how stupid he already felt for getting himself into such a tangle to begin with.

“Q-quit staring at me like that.”

•   @xhinsou​   •

Has Eraserhead ever mentioned having a son? No, Hitoshi would have picked up on that real quick. Nevertheless, he finds the similarities uncanny as he stares at who he had initially thought was his mentor but turned out to be someone else— someone who looks exactly like the stern Pro Hero minus the tired lines and the unkempt facial hair. As though that isn’t weird enough, the stranger also appears to be holding the exact binding cloth Eraserhead uses.

But unlike the teacher he looks up to, this guy clearly still has a lot to learn about the artistry of such a complex weapon.

Hitoshi breaks out of his train of thought when the other teen meets his eyes. He blinks twice, not entirely sure how to react. This kid surely can’t be Eraserhead because Eraserhead doesn’t stutter like an embarrassed schoolboy. 

Could they be related?

Sentence Starters

❝Don’t beat yourself up. It just takes a lot of practice.❞ Hitoshi helps her stand back up to her skates again as he balances himself on his own pair. He looks around the ice skating rink before redirecting his eyes back at his friend. ❝And don’t worry, nobody’s watching so it’s okay to pretend your fall didn’t happen.❞ He says this with an almost teasing smile, hoping that would at least make Aniimo feel better. He then gives her hands a reassuring squeeze and proceeds to skate backwards, carefully pulling her along with him.

Sentence Starters

❝…..No?❞

Wait, is it? Hitoshi isn’t sure. Some random passerby attempted to slice him with a knife a few seconds ago but Hitoshi is almost 75% sure he evaded the sudden attack. Before he could even process what had just happened, the assailant had already bailed out from his sight. So now he’s left standing here, wondering what the hell he did that could warrant physical assault. He moves his hand down to his shirt, only now noticing it’s soaked in blood. In his blood.

Sentence Starters

❝She looks great, doesn’t she?❞ Buying a baby onesie may have earned him several judgmental stares from the people around him in the store but being seen as a teenage dad was the least of his concerns because now he got to dress this street cat into a Christmas onesie. Much to his content, the cat in question trusts him enough seeing that he’s been feeding her every day. 

Sentence Starters

————     (   ✾   )     . 

SHE FOUND SOME FORM OF INDEPENDENCE  .   mother nor father were present in this quaint town  ,  to her knowledge  .   extensive experience with serving in cafe l'arlesienne gained further employment at jazzmine societea  ,  a rather popular cafe in the chamomile district   .  a regular clientele of her own was not established yet  ,  as this was only the third day on the job  ,  but when timid disposition becomes overshadowed by a warming  ,  welcoming persona of a waitress  ,  it is guaranteed to create even just a few regulars  .   today was the same as usual  .  well  ,  with the exception of ONE SOLE THING  .  

while taking a quick bathroom break  ,  another co-worker was kind enough to wait a few of her tables if she just gave them their food when it was ready  .  the favour almost flowed fluidly  .  almost  .  the universe didn’t quite prepare her for the two sould to realign again  .  especially not in this very cafe  ,  nestled in this unknown municipality  .  

when ambers fall upon the pastel skin and violet hair  ,  an internal trigger was pulled  .  THIS FACE WAS FAMILIAR  .  this face was associated with a little kid that helped her speak up  ,  not help her be so alone in a country she wasn’t used to  ,  her very first friend  .   this face made promises to protect her like a prince would  ,  related to her in terms of harbouring a mind - altering quirk  .  there was no mistaking the heavy pricks in her heart  ,  the heart that was sinking to the pit of her stomach  .  anemone l'arlesienne was facing off against hitoshi shinsou  ,  her childhood best friend  .

her gasp was sharp and sudden  ,  digits virtually becoming unresponsive  ,  causing a drink ( that was revealed to be his  ,  no less !!  )  to crash to the ground  .  time stopped  ,  the room stopped  ,  everything was virtually fading from reality except the two standalones  .  ( WAS HE TRULY A STANDALONE  ?  HE PROBABLY LONG SINCE MADE BETTER FRIENDS THAN ME  !  )  was father right  ?  did he not care about her anymore and decided to move on without her  ?  was she no longer good enough for him  ?  was she a bad friend  ?  lips part  ,  citrines unstable  ,  dancing wildly and losing focus  .  ❝  hito  ——  ❞  a hitched breath  ,  ❝  …  hitoshi …  ?  je … je suis …  ❞  buckling knees finally give away  ,  a breakage into a plead ,  the most raw emotion ever exhibited in public   :   they’ve lost contact  ,  their goodbye never uttered  ,  years have passed without a further exchange  .  decency is eliminated for unequivocal regret  ,  burning tears cascading and destroying the little eyeliner and mascara she attempted to wear .   ❝  je … je suis … désolé  .  please … please forgive me  !!  please  ,  please forgive me  ,  if this is truly you  ,  hitoshi  !!    ❞        

He knows that he should be angry— angry that she had left him without a word. As if he was just another toy for her to play with until she got bored and threw him away. Or if that’s not the case, then he should at least feel absolutely nothing upon catching sight of her. He had always thought that he had moved on from those unwanted abandonment issues that she had left him with. He had pictured how their reunion would look like and he always envisioned himself coming off as completely nonchalant; a lack of emotion that he had perfected over the past few years. 

But why the hell is he experiencing neither of those things?

He wants to walk out of here and never look back. Pretend that he didn’t see her. And yet, with their eyes locked and instant recognition dawning in on their expressions, he couldn’t move. The rushing rhythm of his heartbeat echoes in his ears as he stares back at the girl whose face is brimming with what appears to be regret and for a moment, he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t be angry. 

But why shouldn’t he? He’s not the one who left without so much as a goodbye. He should revel in her regret.

And yet, he doesn’t.

The very second he sees her breaking down to the floor, protective instinct drives him out of his chair and to her side. Startled murmurs and glances surround them but they’re all nothing but background noise to him. 

❝H-Hey, what are you—❞ He’s about to say but pauses when he hears her utter the words he didn’t think he would ever hear from her. And just like that, years of unceasing contempt for the girl fade away and a wave of realization hits him.

What a rookie mistake. Eraserhead would have given him a disapproving frown if he sees him in this kind of state again. Hitoshi scowls at his carelessness and makes a futile attempt of untangling himself from the binding cloth he had foolishly caught himself in. He’s made this mistake so many times before that he thought he’d no longer have trouble unraveling himself from it. He clearly still has a long way to go.

He quits struggling and just lies there on the grass, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment churning in his chest. As much as he doesn’t want to, he knows he needs someone’s help to untangle him from the tight grip of his own capturing weapon.

@xhinsou​

“Do you think it’s a little late to be out, kid?” Risotto started, seated on the bench while he just watched the sparse population wander the park. He’s counted probably four separate people, three adults, one this teenager. Of course he couldn’t care less about why the kid was out, maybe sneaking out of some parent’s house after curfew, whatever it was teenagers happened to rebel against.

And of course this one had purple hair.

“It’s dangerous.”

❝Not like I have anywhere else to go or anything else to do.❞ Hitoshi admits easily with an air of nonchalance. In the long time he’s been here, he has yet to find one person that he could deem a threat. The sense of paranoia he once had after being brought to this bizarre world has dissipated over time and now he just sorta wanders around, looking for things to do that could at least help him find his way back home.

To say that he feels out of place is a severe understatement, but perhaps he should have expected that when walking into a place that goes by the name of Jazzmine Societea. Several musicians have performed on stage for the past evening hour and it seems like everyone in the crowd knows who they all are considering they keep throwing a lot of inside jokes and banter at each other. Hitoshi sits by his lonesome at a table next to the window, wondering what the hell compelled him to think it’d be a good idea to try this place out.

He's been waiting for his order for nearly half an hour now but seeing how occupied the entire staff appears to be, he doesn’t want to bother them. Maybe he should just leave. This isn’t really getting him anywhere.

With that in mind, the young boy makes a move to stand up but immediately stops when he sees a member of the staff already making her way towards his table with his drink in hand. He settles back on his seat and waits, his gaze instinctively trailing down to his table. But then the sound of glass shattering on the floor catches his attention and he looks up to find the staff member has dropped his order.

He frowns. ❝Oi, that was my—❞ He stops.

He knows that face. He knows it all too well. Of all places to see each other again, never did he think they would wind up here. There are so many things he wants to say but not a single word pushes past his lips. He sits there, frozen... as he stares back at who he had once thought was the only person he could trust.

got too caught up with my other rp blogs and work has been kicking my butt

i have some free time now though so imma leave a starter call here for now while i try to work on some of the replies i owe