headphonehitokiri
listen closely.
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this blog is now officially an archive (i changed it back to the old url for those purposes too), catch me in isola eventually on a clean new account
#blanche signing out for the last time#i'm on twitter @/nyarticuno if you need me i can no longer be contacted via this blog#let me just uhhhh copy my theme code first
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despacito (shamisen cover) 10 hours
#here's me saying thanks for all the times we've had here and look forward to seeing me again soon#i may or may not reuse this blog for the new group#i mean i changed the url already
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guess who’s back with a new url and hopefully new inspiration in life, that’s right it’s your friendly neighbourhood murderer
i’m dropping most of my interactions so if we had something previously and you want to start a new thread, hmu! or if we didn’t interact before and you want to start a thread. i’m not making an ad so don’t wait for that, just come here.
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lights out.
The world rocks gently below his feet, the familiar sway of a quiet sea. In the dark, he tastes the salt on the breeze, allows himself to dance in time to the rhythmic pounding of the waves.
And then, he opens his eyes, and what he sees makes him stand still.
Around him is... his room. Not the bedroom he’s settled into in the mansion, not the office he spends more time in, not any other place that exists in Hive City. He’s in his quarters aboard the Kiheitai’s ship, docked in Edo’s harbor. All his possessions are as he left them—from the row of stringed instruments against the wall to the disorderly pile of paper on his desk, to the bloodied laundry left on the floor to be cleaned later, when he’d inevitably return with more to clean.
When he... returned. As he always would, to the only home he has and the only people who matter.
They took it as simple fact, not something to feel worry or relief about.
He always did, as well.
And now, it seems he was right. He’s here at last.
Though... no one else seems to be. The ship is oppressively quiet, not a word nor a note echoing down the halls to greet him. Only the sound of water washing against the hull.
He turns to open the door, and his foot kicks up a dust cloud. That’s not right... on closer inspection, everything in the room is coated in a thick layer of dust. Even the unmade futon, which logically he should have just been lying on.
A cold, creeping sense of dread has begun to rise in him, but he takes a few deep breaths, coughs once as he inhales even more dust, and then steps out into the corridor.
Silence. He opens each door he passes, poking his head inside, but every room is void of life. Even Matako’s and Takechi’s rooms, still full of all their things, stand empty. Even Shinsuke’s...
Shinsuke.
As if on cue, there is music. A song Bansai knows well: a surprisingly simple, repetitive melody layered in harsh stabs of rage and sorrow until it becomes almost a driving force, a wall of sound that takes one’s breath away when it hits.
“Shinsuke...”
Of course, there is only one place he’d be on a night like this. Bansai breaks from his cautious pace into a full sprint, following the sound out to the deck. Sure enough, the man is there, standing at the bow with his back turned.
“Shinsuke!”
Bansai stops at a polite distance, waiting to be addressed. But, when there is no answer, he takes a few steps closer, speaking again in a hushed voice. “You are here. You are... it is a relief to see you at last. Shinsuke, something is not right. Where have the others gone...?”
The song plays on without change; there is not even the slightest hint that his words were heard at all.
“Sh-Shinsuke?”
Has he done something wrong? No, even if Shinsuke was refusing to answer him, there would still have been a reaction. And speaking of reactions... his song lacks the usual quiet wistful quality it takes on when he is relaxed, sounding dire and dour in contrast to the peace of the night.
Gradually, he inches forward until he can rest a hand on his leader’s shoulder.
No response.
“Shinsuke? Hello?!”
Bansai tries to shake him, but finds his form as solid and unyielding as a statue. So instead, he leans around him until their faces are almost touching. Shinsuke’s lone eye is undoubtedly alive, but dull and tired as he stares fixedly down at the dark water.
They stand like that for a while, until Shinsuke shifts his weight, the sudden movement causing Bansai to jump, backing away again.
Shinsuke sighs, his shoulders slumped as he turns around at last, the distant look still in his eye.
Bansai watches expectantly, forcing a smile that immediately dissolves into a look of concern.
“Please, Shinsuke. Say something... say anything. It is okay if you are upset. If you are angry, or frightened, or... disappointed.”
His voice catches on the last word. He’d seen that last mission as their greatest victory, but even if the Earth was saved it could also be considered their greatest loss. It was likely they would never be able to rebuild what they had, so much was sacrificed.
Even Bansai himself was... no. He’s here now.
“This one can take anything you have to say. You know that, and even if you did not you have always spoken your mind regardless. So, please...”
Shinsuke takes an uneasy step toward him, and his heart leaps... and then, Shinsuke keeps walking, closing the space between them until he’s...
...Passed right through Bansai, continuing uninterrupted on his way back inside.
Bansai shudders violently, his legs buckle under him, and he falls to the floor.
The sound of footsteps recedes, but the music does not; it only grows louder, shriller, warped by distress until it is no longer recognizable. His hands clamp over his ears, but it does nothing to block out the horrible sound.
He isn’t here. He can never be here again. He’s gone, lost, dead. Less than a ghost, merely a memory that clings where it is inconvenient. And Shinsuke is alone.
The darkness closes in. He’s curled into an uncomfortable ball, trying in vain to shelter himself.
Unseen and unheard, all he can do now is cry.
#;drabble#ca event#e; dreamscape#this is also open to anyone who knows him if you want to like.... see this#ow this hurt
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zoratastic:
“Memories? You lived beyond the stars?”
“From an outside perspective, yes. Would you not say the same of yourself? You do not appear to be of the same world.”
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“...Not often. It is mere memories now.”
“Do you ever think about what lies beyond the stars?”
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“Such pessimism is typical of this city, but it is rather dreary to listen to. Can we not play a love song instead?”
Don’t ask him about his crushes. You won’t like the answer regardless of your own feelings.
#dash commentary#you'd think he's a cynic but he actually died for his love so uh#he's pretty much just scary
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The air in the room is unnaturally still, and he’s felt an unusual chill down his spine from the moment he stepped in. It’s not an unfamiliar scene... but of all the fancy parties he’s showed up to uninvited, this must be the most artificial of them. There is no joy in any of the songs that blare and blend together in his ears, and over them even the background music sounds hollow and tinny.
[Hello, Bansai-kun? Everyone’s waiting on your orders.] Nizou’s voice cuts in over his radio, and he starts slightly. [This isn’t the time to be getting distracted.]
“It is all about the timing. This one is only...” His voice trails off, as he catches a glimpse of an unexpectedly familiar face across the crowd. The other hasn’t seen him yet, and it’s hard to confirm, but that has to be... “Hold your positions.”
Whatever jab his fellow hitokiri makes at him, he doesn’t hear it. His attention is fixed now, and he maneuvers the crowd as quickly as he can while not looking out-of-place, until he’s reached where the young man is standing. He hides his own surprise at the situation while Sougo seems almost too alarmed to see him.
“Osaka-san. How interesting it is to see you here.”
Soundless Dream
@headphonehitokiri
The light glittered and danced across the room, floating and bouncing from jewelries, glasses, and every reflective surface in the room. There’s some soft classical music playing in the background but it’s swallowed by the chatters and polite laughs from the high end formally dressed attendants.
An empty smile on his lips as he listened to praises and flattering words from strangers all eager to get in favor and a touch of the Osaka’s business and wealth. Timely mannered words falling easily out of his lips before he finally excused himself to a quiet corner of the room that shield him from most of the crowd.
More importantly, it hid him from his father’s gaze and gave a moment to himself.
He can’t hear the music here. He can’t hear anything pleasant. Their voices swarm around in his head the further he tried to tune them out and he knows it’s not true. He’s not back at his father’s whims again. He’s not shoving everything into a box and locking it up. He’s doing music, he’s following his dreams. He’s doing what both he and his uncle loved so much.
This was not real. It’s not real.
A presence was suddenly behind him. Fearing the worst, Sougo whipped around with a quick intake of breath, an excuse prepared—
“Kawakami-san!?”
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@tocarryontheirdream
Gentle sunlight filters through the trees; it’s a pleasantly warm afternoon, the quiet broken only by trills of birdsong and, far more distantly, the hum of contented people. A gentle breeze ruffles the leaves, causing the patterns of shadow below to dance.
This isn’t a place he recognizes. But, it is not foreign to him either. It could be anywhere in the countryside, he thinks...
How long has it been since he’s breathed such clean air? Since he’s been able to stand still and simply savour a small detail like that? Since he’s felt...
Alive? No, that’s enough contemplation. Even in this idyllic setting, something compels him onward. A path winds through the woods, and he knows instinctively which direction to take, guided by the kind song on the wind.
Before long, the trees end, and he’s stepped out into a clearing awash in dazzling light. The sound of rushing water and a smoky aroma of cooking food hit him at once, and then his eyes adjust. There, by the edge of a shimmering river, stand two figures who radiate a sense of peace.
One of them, Bansai recognizes, though to encounter him somewhere that clearly isn’t Hive City is confusing. But only for a moment, before he feels at ease. As if he’s remembered that they had planned to meet out here, wherever this is. He approaches quickly.
“You certainly know how to find beautiful places to slack off, Ogami-san...” With only that greeting, he then turns to the other man present. He seems a fair bit older than Banri is, but with the same sort of smile that gives nothing away. “And, ah, have we met...?”
#tocarryontheirdream#ca event#e; dreamscape#there i wrote a starter you just have to deal with how long it is
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Bansai doesn’t remember arriving in this place, but it makes sense in that way dreams somehow manage to. He feels a surge of indignation at the fact he’s being ordered around by someone who isn’t Shinsuke, inducted into a completely different organization, but it isn’t long before he’s left to solve a problem on his own, and all else is forgotten.
His adversary is imposing—not in stature, but in her oppressive presence, cold eyes staring him down as the onlookers jitter impatiently. Her sound is hushed, the cadence unnatural. Everything from the way the others sound around her to the weapons he’s been given to ‘try’ to hit her says one thing: this woman is a monster.
But, while he knows he can’t underestimate her, neither can it be said that Bansai fears her. A challenge is always exciting... and he could never feel like he’d taken a challenge if he simply picked up a gun and started firing until he got a lucky shot.
He’s always treated a fight more like a dance, and with that in mind he taps his foot a few times to set a rhythm, tucks the knife into his belt and throws himself forward with empty hands. A punch couldn’t be any harder to land than an attack with a weapon.
@headphonehitokiri
It was rare for her to be let out of her cell unless it was to go on a mission with the Boss. But today, Ocelot had given one of the newest additions to the Diamond Dogs the great honor of training with the freaky bitch Quiet herself. Ocelot had given the stranger an assault rifle, a heavy duty survival knife, and body armor to boot. Quiet, on the other hand, had no weapons. She didn’t need them - he’d have a hard enough time hitting her when she could alter her mass to all but become gas. Between that and her speed, the challenge was simple.
She stared the stranger down, black, inky markings blotting her face as she prepared for a fight. Revolver Ocelot had stated the rules. ‘Hit her, and you pass. You have an hour.’ Quiet stood still, posture ready to dodge whenever the stranger decided to attack. She wouldn’t fight back - she didn’t have a death wish. Not yet, at least. Revolver Ocelot seemed content enough to leave them alone, and soon it was just the two of them on the edge of the medical platform with a small group of onlookers gathered a few meters away.
#aheeh#ca event#e; dreamscape#of course he's immediately making this harder for himself than it needs to be because of his dumb aesthetic sense#not to be mistaken for overconfidence exactly#but it be like that sometimes
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Character Aesthetic
Repost. Don’t reblog!
Feel free to add to the list!
Tagged By: no one
Tagging: you
[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.
[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. fog. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise .sunset. dewdrops.
[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos.
[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. sickle. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. words. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. figs. concealed weapons.
[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. jades. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur.lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.
[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains.
[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. crocodiles. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. Pegasus. dragons.rats.
[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. tomatoes. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia.
[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. baking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. strings. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running.
[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. tie. necklace. bracelet. ring. suits. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jackets. hood. gloves. socks. masks. costume. ruffle collar. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. goggles
[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. dreams. nightmares. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. grudges. revenge. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. fear. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. deception. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.
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Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks
Their personality
And who they are to my muse
+ Etc!
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[Mini Event] Dreamscape
dream
/drēm/
noun
a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person’s mind during sleep.
Keep reading
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“It’s good to hear everyone so lively.”
#oblivious to being talked about and cool with friends 'hating' each other#he's just having a nice day#holy shit tho banri#dash commentary
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theincompleteus:
He did say cool, didn’t he?
“………..Yennhnnhnnnn–”
Oh, was that embarrassing? He pats the idol on the shoulder.
“It’s alright. You do not have to tell anyone.”
#theincompleteus#i sounded out that answer#somehow now bansai is making it like he never did anything weird#even though he started the conversation by dabbing#incredible
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theincompleteus:
Yuki understood very well and gave a sagely nod.
“I know. It’s ridiculous. How hard is to spread cheese on your crackers? Lazy, the lot of them.”
“...Yes.”
Today, Bansai learns that there are still many things in this world he doesn’t understand.
“...You... did say ‘cool’, right? And you did not mean it in a joking sense?”
#theincompleteus#WHAT HAVE /YOU/ BECOME HE WAS JUST TRYING TO DAB#i'd pay money to have otoharu#here with everyone
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theincompleteus:
“No, I don’t mean doing the—-” Oh no. Oh no. Bansai didn’t know, did he? It was up to Yuki to save the day. Someone shoot him.
“The dab, Kawakami-san, is considered a meme. Er, a joke. Something people use in reference for… funny things. Like ‘dabbing away your sad feelings,’ or something a kin to that. You just walked up and made it look like the coolest damn thing since cheese in a spray can.”
His expression shifts between varying levels of confusion and understanding as Yuki speaks... and settles on confusion. Has he butchered another joke? Did Yuki call him cool?
“Why would anyone put cheese in a spray can?”
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