a poetry book (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madscenes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2020-11-19 12:44 pm
madscenes) wrote in bakerstreet2020-11-19 12:44 pm
Entry tags:
otherwordlies.
Sometimes all you need is a word to spark off an idea.
How to play -
1. Post a comment with your character's name, canon, and any preferences you may have (no shipping, no smut, etc.)
2. Leave the comment blank or post a word or two in the body. (It may also help if you list scenarios you would like to play.)
3. Reply to other people, either with words you picked out, or words they posted as prompts for a thread.
marcel verlinden | original | ota
Ganymede | Greek mythology
Phaedra Lamb - Vampire OC - OTA
2. quab - n. something immature; something unfinished
3. naology - n. the study of sacred buildings
4. dépaysement - n. when someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one.
Alec 'Bunny' Stebbins - OC - OTA
2. bricolage - n. something created from a variety of available things
3. tantivy - adj. in a headlong dash
4. abulia - n. a total inability to make decisions
Genevieve Moreau | OC | OTA
2. serein: the fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours of night; evening serenity
3. dérive: lit. "drift"; a spontaneous journey where the traveler leaves their life behind for a time to let the spirit of the landscape and architecture attract and move them
4. choose your own. m/f for shipping.]
Caleb Widogast | Critical Role
Litost (n.) regret and remorse and repentance; a state of agony and torment; or sorrow said to be "created by the sudden sight of one's own misery"
Holophrasis (n.) the expression of complex ideas in a single word or phrase
Coruscate (v.) to reflect brilliantly; to sparkle
akira kurusu (joker) | persona 5 | OTA
[ any kind of gen or shipping thread works for me. feel free to handwave cr, prompt me instead, or bring your own. ]
weltschmerz + some gezellig
The Kirigiri Detectives pride themselves on remaining secluded from public notice; they do their work like ciphers, forsaking recognition and acclaim because their sole concern is the pursuit of the truth. The value of social nonexistence is something that her grandfather has drilled into her again and again over the years, to the point where she's so thoroughly internalized those rules that breaking one even slightly feels insubordinate, almost to the point of being outright risqué. And to all outward appearances — particularly for her grandfather's appraisal — she is the very model of what she's supposed to be, unhesitating and wholly devoted to the ideals that he's trained her to adhere to.
But perhaps he'd taught her a little too well, when it'd come to hiding things in the shadows. Well enough that she's been able to keep one thing concealed from her grandfather, even amid the strict regimentation of her life that he enforces.
Meeting Joker had been an accident — a one-in-a-million happenstance. She'd been in the right place at the wrong time, or maybe the wrong place at the right one. He'd seen her. She'd seen him. Neither one of them was supposed to have been seen at all.
That was months ago. By now, it's turned into a...something. Something too emotionally charged to be called friendship, but too nebulous to really be boxed into a definition of anything else. They leave notes and signs to identify their availability for a rendezvous; sometimes they both make it and sometimes they don't. As the passage of time made her grow more daring, she'd gotten her hands on a burner phone with only the most basic of texting functions and only one number loaded into it — still a hanging offense if her grandfather ever were to find it, but easy enough to hide, and considerably more convenient in practice.
She looks forward to the times when she can see him, and deep down she knows that personal whim is derailing her from the path her grandfather has tried to put her on, chipping hairline flaws into the otherwise perfect detective he's trying to mold out of her. She sneaks out when she ought to know better. She indulges when she's supposed to be above such worldly things.
She should know better, and she does know better, and that isn't enough to make her stop.
Two days ago had been a bad day — more trying than usual, in a way that had worn her down the same way all the other days before it had worn her down equally so — and in a fit of selfish pique, she'd found her secret phone and sent off a text before she could think better of it, or talk herself out of it.]
prk fntn 21:30 / 2ds
[She didn't wait for a reply, then. She'd only waited for two days to pass, and when the time had drawn close, she'd slipped out from under her grandfather's watchful eye like she's done so many times before now, making her way to one of their go-to meeting points: a small park of no particular noteworthy status, marked in the center by a wishing fountain that makes for a perfect place for a rendezvous, if you know where to look.
There's no telling whether he'll show up. Maybe he won't be able to; maybe he simply won't care to. She'll wait an hour, and then go back, one way or another. Either way, she's there, five minutes early.
She finds a seat on the edge of the marble basin, and adjusts her gloves for something to do with her hands, and waits.]
no subject
[ by all accounts he shouldn't be showing up. by all accounts it's a folly, their relationship, that's gone stretched out and encouraged for far longer than it has any right to, something which can't continue, can't last, is seemingly of little to no benefit for both parties involved.
but akira is nothing if not rebellious at his core, a deception when contrasted against how mild-mannered he actually is, still a quiet and subdued boy in his everyday life despite being several months deep into his probation, into the trickster's game he's tried so hard and failed to keep separate from his public face. so courting danger is no longer new to him, nor is defying the odds, toeing the line to see just how long his luck can hold out. nowadays it feels like it's only a matter of time until it does, though it's beyond his reasoning to say if it'll come courtesy of miss kirigiri's hands, or through some other means.
he's got some nerve, really, letting two polarizing detectives into his life, his innermost circle all at once. every day his name and the rest of the phantom thieves of hearts aren't in any of tokyo's leading headlines is one more successful game on his end. they've seen too much as it is, kirigiri all the more so when she's stuck her nose into places she doesn't belong, into the metaverse, another casualty of cluelessness back during those carefree days of infiltration, when the phantoms were still finding their stride, figuring out how this all worked and how to make the most of the tools at their disposal and who to best put them to.
it feels like such a long time ago now. he doesn't even have to don the mask anymore to meet her, rig up an overly elaborate entrance via the metanav in a joint effort to maintain his anonymity and to keep out the city at large from determining what they're up to alone, the things they trade together in secret. naturally it remains clandestine, everything from the setup to their separate arrivals here, far removed from akira's usual haunts in shibuya and the other neighborhoods nearby, quick train rides away with a handful of minor exceptions. he questions not the timing of his latest contact with her, but stops to ask himself after the first day if it's worth squeezing her in to an already tightly-packed schedule. morgana is against it, of course, though he's been staunchly against this affair the entire time, screeching about the risk, what's going to happen if the information kirigiri has ever leaks into the wrong hands.
akira never knows how to answer his feline friend, the backbone of their ragtag team. nothing's happened so far, has it? the jury's out on whether or not he can consider her a total ally to them as a whole, but it stands to reason if she truly had a waggling tongue on her, she probably would have done something by now instead of continuing to let the phantom thieves run amok. at the height of their popularity, dividing most of the country on where they stand towards them, it doesn't sound like anyone or anything is going to topple them anytime soon.
on paper it indicates it's all the more reason to be taking proper care. the thing is, it's so hard to stay away, pending he actually has the hours and the energy to reserve for her. how long was it since their last meeting? he can't calculate it, can't remember. too long, then, and if she's reaching out like this, all of a sudden, after a long interim...
maybe it's nothing. maybe his mind's blowing it out of proportion, overthinking it. it could be a disaster waiting to happen, some sort of trick or ploy, or something in between these. in any case, he's made his decision, waiting until well after closing time and the care of the cafe he lives above left to him before he slips into his hoodie and slips out the door. the appointment is a late one, wondering to himself along the way if he'll be able to take the last train home, or find some other means to return to yongen afterward. cycling through concerns like these helps to occupy him, stay the course, lest he wanders too far internally and reverts to worry and outrageous speculations. they're without labels by this point, the two of them, but his level of care, the depths of his emotions are well-established, well-known, or so he can only assume.
half-past nine, as arranged, he's here, not a minute sooner or later. punctual. gone now is the young man from a no-named backwater town—he's joker now, persistent in continuing to use the codename no matter how and where she runs into him, a subtle transformation in lieu of the real thing. for as long as they've been seeing one another, a bit of the real self's begun to bleed into the facade. he fingers some of the loose change in his pockets, debating on how theatrical to be when he approaches the fountain. it's hard not to showcase at least a little flair, opting to take out a one-yen coin, flip it in his company's direction, hope her reflexes are up to snuff enough to catch it, if not avoid any minor peril to her person. ]
Penny for your thoughts?
[ to him it's a hilarious pun, if not a bit misguided, given the differences in currency. still, he thinks he's pretty pleased with himself, a sufficient icebreaker for their reunion. it's the warmup, feeling things out while they get reacquainted, as if meeting for the first time all over again. ]
no subject
She watches things like that, of course. To watch and to notice — that's just what she does. Say little, observe much. Lucky for her that it's no real hardship to hang back and watch him; there's a charisma to him that exudes seemingly without him even trying to do it, and sometimes she can't help but wonder what it must feel like, being the flame itself instead of the silent moth drawn to it.
And she is drawn to it. Enough so that she hears-feels-senses his approach resonate off her vigilance in the split-second before anticipation makes her breath catch, and between that and her reflexes, her gloved hand comes up in time to snatch the spinning coin out of the air as it heads her way.
She's too good to let herself smile openly; maintaining careful control over her facial expression is a skill she'd mastered long before she ever met Joker. But it'd make her laugh, if she'd let herself, how gracefully he manages to set her at ease with such a simple playful gesture, and so instead of laughing, she opts for her own brand of dry humor instead.]
Is that the going rate? Then you're a little short.
[She gets up from her seat — still shorter than him, even in her heeled boots — and walks forward a step or two to meet him, taking her own turn at rotating the coin over and over against the black leather covering her fingers.]
Mine are priced higher than that, anyway. How do you propose to make up the difference?
no subject
[ his guile is a constant work in progress, carefully cultivated from the ground up as soon as he'd first set foot in the city. depending the audience, it's not always easy to tell how much of a success it is. kirigiri here is a tough nut to crack, and though joker hopes to break through the veneer one of these days, he has yet to perform such an amazing feat.
the fact she rises to him, literally and figuratively, is enough of a testimony for him to be satisfied. unfortunately it's about all he can glean for now; he's had practice in it, yes, but his powers of observation and deduction alike clearly pale in comparison to hers. an amateur is no match for someone so highly skilled, all the more reason to learn a thing or two from her. applying new tricks and techniques into his arsenal is certainly advantageous, learning something new from every encounter, each passing day.
inexperience doesn't mean he doesn't come equipped with watchful eyes of his own. fortified persona aside, he's as soft-spoken as ever, and his stance is relaxed, both hands right at home deep inside the side pockets of his grey jacket. as tempting as it is to extend the gag, feeling a little more coinage jangle around within them, he doesn't think he will, isn't inclined to let it overstay its welcome. he'd like to keep her chomping at the bit, piquing her interest, if he can. ]
Time is money, right? That's about all I've got for now.
[ that's no real embellishment. being a thief-in-name doesn't automatically mean he's automatically well-to-do, every last cent of his spent on the phantoms of late. it's a marvel unto itself to have enough train fare on him where need be, or for any other common expenses, for that matter. if he's inclined to fling more yen into the nearby fountain, perhaps he'll run into a windfall soon. anything could happen.
the rest is something of a polite, white lie. time is a precious commodity on its own merits, that's true, but he's acutely lacking in it overall. for her, however, he'll make some if he has to, move a mountain, enact a miracle.
it wouldn't be a first for him, considering his track record. making the impossible possible, be it in the cognitive world or elsewhere, seems like the standard lately. he's convinced it's worth the cost, worth doing, for her. fate's funny like this sometimes. ]
no subject
But he wouldn't have come, she quickly and stubbornly reminds herself, if he hadn't been able. They've both missed meetings like these before, when other considerations have gotten in the way. It's not an obligation, but a desire. If he's here at all, it's because he wants to be.
It shouldn't be so easy to think of herself as a tool instead of the living, breathing girl she is. It shouldn't be so easy to write off a whim as simple as escaping from her responsibilities for a few minutes to enjoy something selfish yet harmless.
A penny for her thoughts, he'd said. If the cost of thoughts was measured by weight, the price would be in the thousands.]
I'll accept it, then.
[His time, she means. Even though that's probably something she ought to be bribing him for, and not the other way around.]
...I'm being sent overseas for a while. I don't know all the particulars, but...it's evidently a matter that can't wait. My grandfather favors the idea.
[Despite herself, she glances askance — the first visible flash of vulnerability she's allowed herself to show so far.]
So I wanted to see you. Before I left.
no subject
[ the impermanence of things is something joker should be very well acquainted with. he himself hadn't (originally) planned on staying here forever. a year abroad is what he was allotted, a paltry sentence whittled down from the initial punishment thrust upon him, thanks in no small part to being a minor, a first-time offender of otherwise impeccable social standing.
a whole year. what was once hard pill to swallow has become insurmountable for completely different reasons. conditions and double-life notwithstanding, he's developed a faint fondness for tokyo, and more succinctly, a minuscule section of its population, a microcosm strictly for him and him alone. in this modern age he's aware that most goodbyes aren't necessarily forever, that there are plenty of means to stay in contact with friends and family both old and new.
yet this news leaves him in something of a shock, a curve ball hurtled straight out of the left field, bullseye painted on his forehead for a prime target. he'd like to think he has an adept poker face—which is why he's so good at winning hand after hand of daifugo—and so he schools his sharp features into staying neutral as best they can. this is an unspoken game they've somehow fallen into playing, albeit one joker doesn't take too seriously. he doesn't have a lot at stake here, but he knows from first-hand experience the perils of wearing ones heart on their sleeve, of unwittingly revealing too much to the wrong people. it's part of what's landed him where he is now, incidents he'd prefer not to repeat ever again.
game face on. besides, he doesn't have the full details, and much like his irrational fussing on the way here, what he expects to be the worst may not even be so dreadful, insurmountable.
and so what if it is? friendships dissolve and crumble all the time, especially among those as young as they are. then again... ]
How long?
[ open-ended questions don't suit him well. he could be referring to her departure as easily as how long they have left to linger tonight. to answer either is acceptable, or none whatsoever, if the information is available to her. to say anything period and keep him abreast of the situation shows a surprising amount of trust, in his eyes. many would simply leave without so much as a farewell or an indicator, and that would be the end of that. such is life, cold-hearted and cruel.
too many wrenches have been thrown into his plans this year. what's one more in the grand scheme of things? ]
no subject
[Naturally, that's the only answer she's able to give, so that's the one she chooses. There's no telling how long it'll be until her inevitable return; it could be days, or weeks, or months, all depending on what she finds when she arrives and how long it takes her to get to the bottom of the mystery she's been sent to solve. And of course, even that is tenuous. One case might lead to another, to another. She might be asked to stay — or compelled to, depending — if something else were to crop up while she was still within a close enough proximity.
It was the feeling of powerlessness, two days ago, that had caused her to crack and seek out this meeting. That she's going is inevitable. That she was given no say in it is...unsurprising. That she's resigned herself to the departure is simple necessity.
But maybe Joker is rubbing off on her a little — the bad influence her grandfather would never have wanted her to be exposed to. He's better at rebellion than she is, but she's learning the ropes with moves like this, slowly but surely.]
I told myself that this was so I could leave without regrets. So that — I wouldn't just. Disappear.
[She knows, after all, how that plays out in practice. One message goes unanswered and nothing is thought of it. Two go unanswered, and it might be a coincidence. Three forms a trend; four forms a conclusion. After a while, it starts to feel pointless to send messages at all, and not long after that, they stop altogether.
Still holding the coin, she wraps one arm around herself, hand gripping elbow as she shifts her weight slowly from one foot to the other.]
But the truth is, I'm more selfish than that. I made you go to all the trouble of meeting me like this, just to see if —
[She almost says it, almost completes the thought, but the words catch on her tongue and she winds up falling silent instead.]
no subject
[ fair enough. the knowledge won't do him much good, anyway; there's no surety in her returning before he too has to depart. the most optimistic expectation puts it to a few weeks, at best. several months sounds like the most realistic outcome, and beyond that are possibilities he'd prefer not to imagine, not inclined towards absolute pessimism.
it's troubling nonetheless, and for a split second a wild, errant thought surges through him unprompted, how this is what he gets for not keeping her at arm's-length like other confidants of his. once upon a time he stuck to a dichotomy of separating him and his cohorts from the world at large, even those who were proving themselves to be of great benefit to the group, just to ensure there'd be no more swift and severe heartache than what he had to already endure. the phantoms are flesh and blood to him, irreplaceable, but one keen contact or resource can always be swapped out for another. while it sounds cold and clinical on the surface, it's served him well so far, has kept the majority of his transactions smooth and clean.
whose fault is it then, for disrupting the natural order of things? hers or his? it doesn't matter. wherever and whoever joker points his finger at won't change a thing. it is what it is, and he should practice what he silently preaches, let her go, leave it at this with a well wish, no hard feelings on his end. ]
...
[ or on hers. she raises a fair point, doing him the favor of getting their goodbyes out there while they still have the time to instead of vanishing without a trace, like a dream, something which never should have happened yet defiantly found a way despite the odds.
go figure. what a pity that kirigiri never had a strong enough will of rebellion to manifest anything of note. granted, if she had, their impending divide would be all the more heart-wrenching. small miracles, then, for it not to be harsher than it's turning out to be. if he listens hard enough, there's almost hope in her voice, speculation, although it never fully comes to pass as her words cut off, dead before their time. joker can only guess as to what she's hinting at, fill in the blanks and draw his own conclusions. he almost opens his own mouth to add to it, in fact, stopping at the last possible moment to shift his eyes elsewhere, streetlights glaring off the fake lenses of his glasses, rubbing his bangs between his fingers self-consciously.
best not to go there. best not to let the silence linger for too long, either. don't be a downer, kurusu. ]
...what're you gonna do?
[ now, tomorrow, overseas, anywhere. she shifts, and so does he, inching a step closer to her. he doesn't mean to loom, still giving them a healthy amount of space, hardly wanting to look down upon her, though it's not so high of a distance he holds over her besides. in costume he was a far more striking presence, and here he's as bland and ordinary as any teenager running around after hours could hope to be. harmless, demure. inviting, to some extent, to whatever (whoever) is willing to come his way.
the contrast is head-reeling. he constantly wonders if revealing it was a bad idea, to his disadvantage to do so. will it help set her more at ease now? in the absence of other techniques, it's all he's got to improvise with. heaven forbid he actually reaches out, reacts dramatically. what would it make of them, to act like some lovestruck couple out of a television drama? or a couple at all?
surely not. heaven forbid, indeed. ]
no subject
But this is more nuanced, more complicated, than simply that. For one thing, there's nothing formal to break, and yet it's still something at risk of being severed, because it wouldn't ache this much if it were truly nothing. If she were someone else, someone less controlled, someone less what she is, maybe she'd have already crossed the remaining distance between them and simply stepped into his arms. But that space, however narrow, still feels like a chasm, a challenge to surmount.
What is she going to do?
That's the problem with being Kyouko Kirigiri, the pride and scion of the Kirigiri Detectives. There's never any question about what she's going to do; it's always simply what she's told, what she's meant for. She's not her father, after all.]
I had thought I might confess.
[There's almost a bittersweet humor in it, isn't there. That's the other thing this encounter looks like, from a distance. Two sides of the same coin. Beginnings and endings, identical in kind.]
I suppose it wouldn't make much difference either way, in the end.
no subject
[ the hits just keep on coming. this one justifiably earns a visible reaction from him, however small it is. a quickening of the breath, tense muscles, widening pupils which are here and gone in a flash, a blink, so easy to miss if they aren't being actively traced.
unbelievable. she's more than a match for him, and if he takes a step back to think about it, well and truly, it's all so...absurd, maddening, what's brought them here and what's brought them to this. he wants to laugh, wants to scream, wants to steal kirigiri away into the night and disappear to parts unknown, never to be seen again until the morning light, if not later.
that'd be the maddest caper of all. as his hand lowers, he scratches the side of his nose, still not meeting her head-on, eye to eye. he thinks this aversion is what makes it easier for him to say: ]
I don't know... [ here lies the perfect stopping point, a good place to interject something witty, or deflect the situation altogether— ] If you opened with that, I'd probably try to stop you more.
[ from leaving, or maybe from confessing. it's difficult to tell, and encouraging isn't what he ought to be doing, but here he is doing exactly that. his fingers return to burrowing in his pocket, sidling a hair closer, as imperceptible at a glance as the rest of his motions have been. ]
no subject
And — selfishly, it's the reaction she'd secretly hoped for. The one she'd wanted. The completion of the sentence she hadn't finished herself. Wanting to know how easily he could give this up, if it means something, if it matters, the way it's grown to matter to her in a way she hadn't altogether intended. If the mistake she'd made was a mutual one. If it's a mistake they both silently agree was worth making at all.
This would be a lot more theatrical, she thinks a little recklessly, if they didn't both have so much self-control. She would've thrown herself into his arms by now. Maybe he would've caught her.
But as it is their movements are all subtle and understated; slight shifts that only just barely betray the gravitational pull, the suppressed urge to move together instead of apart. They'll have to move apart soon enough, but perhaps not yet. Not yet.]
Do you think you'd succeed?
[The question comes almost playful, but oddly not ironic. There's a good chance he might, if he were to set his mind to it. Plenty of people have underestimated Joker before, and plenty of people have learned the hard way why that's folly in the extreme. She's not about to count herself among them.]
Truthfully...I don't think I'd bet against you.
no subject
[ it's a question worth considering regardless of the tone, or its sincerity. in his past life, such as it was, akira was never much of a risk-taker, more privy to sticking to the status quo and keeping his head down, as any given boy in his prefecture would be. don't rock the boat, go with the flow, pass your entrance exams with flying colors and work hard toward a brighter future—a future of more work and nothing of actual note to show for oneself. such is the typical japanese dream nowadays, has been for years, the same old cycle of youth being wasted on the young and constantly put in their place while the rest of the country withers away, apathetic and hopeless, resistant to change.
but now he's joker, now he has power, literally and figuratively. his skills are varied and vast, more abundant than they have any right to be. where else, after all, is he ever going to have a need to pick locks like they're playthings, skulk through the dark unseen, regurgitate meaningless information, or talk and bluff his way through almost any circumstance? it's only the last one which really applies here, and he wants to give kirigiri the benefit of the doubt that she simply hasn't seen him in action enough, the effects he has on others after beginning to hone his craft. if this were months ago, there'd be contest, no claim to fame for him. as it stands... ]
Hm.
[ he'll pretend to think about it some, present it more believably than to parry her outright. having confidence to spare doesn't make him a shoe-in by default, but he likes his chances, is willing to gamble. what else exactly does he have to lose if the bet turns sour? ]
Don't know. [ a broken record; it comes with the territory of letting his actions speak more for him. he's trying, lately, making great leaps and bounds in asserting himself more than he used to. it's still under development. ] Is that really up to me?
[ they have propriety to consider, after all. doing the right thing. joker's no stranger to stupidity, foolishness of its own accord, but it has limits. at the end of the day, he's a do-gooder in ne'er-do-wells clothing, and he's not entirely certain he'd be able to live with himself for getting in the way of impeding anyone he cares about, all for the sake of some silly little feelings, puppy love that's surely prone to ebb and fade away if left unattended. surely so. ]
no subject
[She starts her thought carefully, in her usual deliberate way. Even amid the tension in the air, even baiting him to snap the thread and send them both careening into a frenzy of admittedly satisfying mistakes, she's still Kirigiri through and through. She lays out her notions methodically, appraises them carefully. A private little chess match, black pieces against white.]
What happens until then, on the other hand, is — mutable. Subject to change. As yet unwritten, to be needlessly poetic about it.
[Her expression is calm and unwavering, but that's not her tell. Her giveaways are always in her hands — the way she brushes her hair back behind one ear, the way she subtly grips at her elbow or brings her hand up in front of her chest when she feels particularly vulnerable.
She presses her lips together, casting for words. When they've gone dry, she's forced to wet them again.]
What happens, in that unwritten period...for me, that could mean the difference between "coming back" and "coming back to you".
[But then, abruptly, she finds herself averting her gaze, collecting herself again for the briefest of moments.]
Personally...I would rather have something to come back to.
no subject
[ chess (and shogi, too) never really was joker's forte. it shows in how they're continuing to flit about the matter at hand here, the slight advantage she holds over him. that's something to be expected, though, when she's the one who's lured him out here, dropped a catalyst he'd never have been able to foresee. in retrospect, after the night ends, he'll probably beat himself up for such things, that this was a given from the start, when bearing in mind her...industry.
he waits, patiently. he always lets others say their piece, not wanting to rush them or interrupt, the ideal audience for someone to pour their heart out to. this isn't the case here, and he knows this, but he treats it with the same amount of seriousness as he would during any other moment his friends need to share their grievances with him, to open up. ]
...
[ once she finishes, he opens and shuts his mouth, zeroing in on what appears to be a particular choice of words. or it would be, if he hadn't spotted the inconsistency, as glued to it as he was to watch the twisting of her lips, the sliver of her tongue. joker is only human, despite popular belief, and he's quick to move on from that moment of weakness. there are more pressing priorities at stake here. ]
Or someone?
[ how natural does it appear, to slide closer still? any more and it's going to border on comical, so it's just as well that he's about to reach his limits, infringing on her personal space.
it'd take next to nothing to reach out and do something untoward. he won't, of course, under the impression it isn't his step to take. the most he can manage is to pull the corners of his mouth into a faint, amused smile, still treating this like a game, like there's a prize of his to be won that's lying in wait just beyond his grasp for now. ]
Those are pretty big hints, Kirigiri-san.
no subject
[Exasperation, from Kirigiri, is another form of vulnerability; most any display of outward emotion is, for someone who's been so relentlessly trained to conceal any glimpse of such things from outward view. But for all her best efforts at repressing it, she is still human behind her facades. She gets annoyed, she gets hurt. She feels hopeless.
She clings to hope.
She likes being smiled at. She likes when boys are a little taller than her even despite the boost she gets from her heeled boots. She likes attention when it's the one thing she's supposed to never draw, in her line of work. She likes the way Joker is all of those things, does all of those things, and no one else knows about it but her.]
It isn't as though this is easy. Less so when you won't seem to take a hint.
[She glowers at him a little — another flash of an emotion she's supposed to be superior to, except that all bets are off when it comes to such things now. He comes to the edge of her personal space and she moves on a whim to shatter it altogether, stepping next to him even if it means that now she has to look up at him more significantly in order to do it.]
If you're waiting for an engraved invitation, you won't get one.
no subject
I'm really not. I'm sorry.
[ for fooling around, that is. it's no thinly-veiled rejection on his end; if anything, he reaches for her, the barest brush of skinship as he gently coaxes her hand off of her elbow and partly into his. her skin is cool to the touch, but that's partly to be expected now that autumn is well underway, and the nights are growing longer.
huh. this isn't as big of a deal as he made it out to be in his head. to grab her, hold onto her feels so simple and natural he almost wonders if there's something else he's missing here. there's no dramatic revelation, no fireworks and fanfare involve. it is what it is, and the tautly-drawn line of his shoulders slackens, relaxes.
this is the first step, a rousing success. it's out of his means to determine if they're ready or not to advance to the next one. if it's just this, well...that's fine, more than he'd have bargained for. best to be content with what you have than to set your ambitions too high. ]
That's too bad. I kinda wanted to see what the Kirigiri Detectives could pull off.
[ okay, maybe there's a few witticisms left in him. his formality's slipping, too, some of his hometown dialect beginning to creep in. he doesn't notice it, won't bid a hasty retreat to apologize and compose himself. none of it's of any real importance here. ]
bruce wayne | dceu
02.
boots land near batman, near the man that dons all black and travels through the night, through the grime and the shit that is gotham city. how he does it — homelander has no idea, as gotham happens to be his least favorite city on the planet. the villains that batman reigns in — the clown, the penguin, the man with the riddles — it all seems overwhelming, and homelander doesn't envy the bat. not one bit. ]
Sorry, I know I'm late. Vought. They wanted to send Black Noir, but I thought I'd take care of it.
[ i thought i'd help you. homelander knows that batman doesn't care for backup. never has, never will. however, homelander knows that something big is happening. something that batman can't handle alone. those days come, those days pass. they know each other not from personal information but from what newspapers say. television. the radio. they're both heroes — and yet.
batman would rather wander alone. not that homelander can really blame him — but there seems to be a tragic sense of isolation in it. he understands that, the lab flashing in the back of his mind. loneliness, self-restriction. ]
What are we dealing with?
Dabi | BNHA
2. induratize
3. videnda
4. brumous
HOMELANDER —— THE BOYS.
mallaidh ashby ღ original ღ ota
2. scripturient; having a consuming passion to write
3. saudade; a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"
4. firgun; the act of sharing in or contributing to someone else's pleasure or fortune with a purely generous heart.
5. gökotta; the act of rising early in the morning to appreciate nature
6. serein; the fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours of the night
elena gilbert | the vampire diaries
tausendsassa. (n.) jack-of-all-trades; a multi-talented person.
— or bring your own.
[ ooc: compatible with seasons 1-2 only. ]
katherine pierce | the vampire diaries
dick grayson | titans
01. bibliothecary. (n.) one who collects or maintains books.
02. saudade. (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains."
03. solivagant. (adj.) wandering alone.
04. bring your own.
kory anders | titans
01. chimerical. (adj.) created by unchecked imagination; fantastically visionary or highly improvable.
02. sehnsucht. (n.) "the inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know no what"; a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one's home.
03. antiscians. (n.) people who live on opposite sides of the world, "whose shadow at noon are cats in opposite directions."
04. bring your own.
DR. CASPER DARLING —— CONTROL.
Moira MacTaggert | Marvel Comics | OTA
And some starter words!]
Meraki: the soul, creativity, or love put into something. The essence of yourself that is put into your work.
Novaturient: desiring or seeking powerful change in one's life, behavior, or situation.
Or any word you can come up with!
Judith Grimes | TWD
natsukashii - small things that bring you suddenly, joyously back to fond memories
videnda - things that should be seen or visited, because they mark the character or a person or place
palinoia - the obsessive repetition of an act until it is perfect or mastered
meliorism - the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world
Eliot Waugh ➼ The Magicians
02. oscitancy; (n.) yawning; being drowsy or inattentive
03. mamihlapinatapai; (n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire but which neither wants to begin
03. yonderly; (adj.) mentally or emotionally distant; absent-minded
merlin | fate/ | ota
trouvaille - something lovely discovered by chance
recherché - carefully chosen, rare, or exotic
cicurate - to tame or reclaim from wildness or madness
Simon Snow || The Simon Snow Series
zarina kassir | dead by daylight
kirschtaria wodime ♔ fate/go
(n.) the fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours of night, evening serenity.
Lethe or lethe
(n.) a river in the Greek underworld that, when drunk from, made souls forget the sufferings of life; oblivion or something to make you enter oblivion and forget.
retrouvaille
the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery.
sabaism or sabaeanism
(n.) the worship of stars.
davesprite | homestuck | ota
[2] phantasmagoric (adj.) characterized by incredible, intricate, impossibly imaginative imagery
[3] yuputka (n.) the phantom sensation of something crawling on your skin
[4] choose your own!
ethan || oc
↳ quisling
↳ scurrilous
↳ gadarene
↳ choose your own
zed martin | constantine
sam winchester | spn
atychiphobia | advesperascit | elysian )
kate galloway × original × ota
Erik Lehnsherr | X-men movies
The Phantom | The Phantom of the Opera
Davina Claire | The Originals
2. toska
3. mizpah