shotthrice

[shotthrice]

joe.

  “ Guess you’re right, ” Joe responds with a slight laugh, patting the top of the keychain’s head with his pinky. The Netpups that wander their home in the Netwalk are fantastic, wonderful, extremely therapeutic to play with on a daily basis, but… it’s hard to beat out the little accessory he’s loved from the start.

  ( It’s a present from his best bud, after all. Nothing can beat that! )

  He listens intently despite not making any attempt at eye contact - or even looking to Neku at all - and nods. It’s definitely not like they’re alone in this situation, so employers (if they themselves weren’t swapped), but it might be fun to try his hand at whatever Neku’s been up to. Though, Joe supposes getting a job himself may give a similar feeling…

  “ Ah… ”

  Joe’s thoughts come to a halt, a slow march that hits a final note and ceases. The hands on his knees grip tight, digging nails into the skin and shoulders tense. It had definitely been too much to ask to avoid the topic; they’ve both seen each other’s memories, that much is certain.

  ( Death is ugly. Death is a horrible thing, but the idea of having a gun aimed at him thrice? Joe doesn’t understand the nonchalance behind Neku’s tone. He’s unsure if he ever will. )

  Ankles cross and he deliberately turns his head away from Neku, as if looking at himself from the outside is going to give him far too much of an idea of what Sara everyone had to witness.

  “ … G - Gotcha. Can I ask you to do the same? ”

        Neku realizes too late that he may have screwed up, here.

        It’s not normal—well, of course it isn’t, because a lot of things about Neku aren’t normal. Dying three times as if he isn’t merely human and should only die once; coming back to life three times, an impossible feat on its own; dealing with it like this, his voice ever composed even when he speaks as another. All of that isn’t something that normal people have to deal with, because they die once, and then, if some dumb city chooses to bring them back to life, they do exactly that.

        Neku watches Joe as he reacts to his words, in some way more human and natural than brushing it off has ever been, and he winces, drawing back towards what empty space remains on his end of the bench. He listens, waiting for whatever answer may come, and—

        “Yeah,” he replies. “Don’t worry.”

        ( Brilliant idea to say that when they’re talking about death, here. )

        “… That… aside…” Neku sighs, looking away to avoid any initial reaction the other might have as he tries and changes topics.

        “Did you have anything you needed me to do? Like a job, or… I don’t know, anything you wanted to mention while we were here?”

[shotthrice]

due to personal reasons I will be cheating death

[shotthrice]

joe.

  Oh thank God.

  If there’s anything consistent and good in this world, it’s the fact pocket dog remains. Joe is careful when he takes it from Neku’s (his) hands, delicately placing it in the pocket of his pants. While the spot isn’t ideal and can’t be shown off with ease, at least it’s safe with him for the time being.

  They’ll have to exchange when they inevitably go back to normal, but it’s fine. Joe kind of wants to talk to him more after this mess.

  ( Not about those visions, the bang! bang! bang! that vibrated through his skull when he found himself unable to focus, or the numbness that spread across his limbs in a familiar and nauseating fashion–

  No, he won’t speak about it. If anything, the silence is telling enough. )

  “ Thanks a lot. It’s real important to me, so I dunno what I’d do if we couldn’t find it, ” Joe answers, sinking down on the bench out of sheer relief. His eyes shut briefly before he opens them again, glancing up towards Neku. 

  “ Is there anything ya need for me to do while we’re stuck like this? Do you have a job? ”

        “I’m pretty sure it’d be in your room if I didn’t have it,” Neku shrugs, though as he watches Joe holds the pocket dog far gentler than he did, he holds back even his blasé remarks. It’s the same precision and care that he used to hold his headphones with—the old ones, anyways, wherever they went—and Neku can respect that.

        “I’d never ask you to do that,” Neku starts, and turns his head away. Joe’s far too kind, he really is: even if it’s in both of their best interests to keep up some part of their lives, suggesting it so immediately feels more like a surprise than a natural question. “I mean, I have a job—…in a sense—but this being a city-wide thing, I don’t think anyone’ll care. Just—”

        ( No. If Neku has already noticed exactly what he thinks he has—a sight almost like what might have trailed behind them months ago, sans the slithering and hissing and everything that should have made them alive except for blood—except for blood that didn’t belong at all to them—then it would only be hypocritical to ask, if not likely too late.

        It’s not as if dying was much of a secret, anyways. It only ended up that way because there was no point in broadcasting to the world every death. )

        “Don’t look into it too hard. You know, my memories.” He sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. Despite it being a horrible warning, it’s the best he can think of.

        “Whatever you see—it happened months, almost a year ago. It’s pretty useless to think about.”

[shotthrice]

…joe.

@shotthrice​…

  Joe tries not to hate much, but this… this he definitely hates.

  There’s plenty of downsides to being a nosy person, he realizes. The obvious panic that comes from waking up once more in a room that isn’t his in an area that isn’t instantly recognizable after such a groggy awakening is enough to exhaust him. Still, Joe finds himself pawing through Neku’s clothing to find anything that suits his style better among the other teen’s closet. Eventually, he comes out with a couple pieces that he can mix-and-match that should announce enough that something is up here.

  Still, his fingers mistakenly tap Neku’s name several times on the phone before he has to remind himself, no, this is Neku’s phone and texting it won’t help anyone. Once his message goes through, Joe hurries to the meeting place he gave and settles on the bench.

  Joe keeps the ongoing silence between them, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ground. He spares a glance to Neku and tries to make it less apparent how freaked out he is by all of this. His thoughts aren’t exactly organized right now, so having anything to say is–

  “ Ah! H - Hey, Neku, do you have my pocket dog?! ”

        Neku… Neku doesn’t like this. He’s not sure what to say about it: sure, there could be worse, or there is worse, but there’s also far better than waking up and holding the life of an entire stranger in his hands.

        Maybe it’s not the most accurate to call Joe Tazuna a stranger. He’s a friend, and by that, Neku means a friendly acquaintance… and by that, Neku just means someone who’s the same as him—an unlucky kid who got pulled into one unlucky situation after another.

        ( As they sit on this bench now, Neku considers their similarities.

        It’s entirely on accident. There shouldn’t be any similarities. He forgets anything he just saw reenacted within the stone tiles in front of them. )

        “…Your pocket dog?” Is what he ends up saying instead, with a glance away from the odd mix of clothes he’s found to the other—to, himself, sort of. Still, he puts a hand in his pockets, rustling around until he feels something other than slightly-grainy fabric and dust.

        “Uh…maybe.” Lo and behold, there it is. With a name to the object, Neku can recall it vaguely from past meetings, but he’s still not too sure why it’s there. Chalk it up to muscle memory, he supposes. “You’re talking about this, right? You can take it, if you want.”

[shotthrice]

My piece for the Imprint TWEWY fashion zine! I wanted to design an ad for a Tin Pin Slammer event!

[shotthrice]

Joshua.

Joshua thinks it’s funny, sometimes, how the world decides to dole out its pranks. One day he seems to be batting off the undead, the next he’s back home, as safe and sound as someone in his standing might be. Today seems to be particularly cruel, but he can’t at all say he’s surprised by it. In fact? It’s pretty amusing. If you’re going to hide, the least you can do is not stick out like a sore thumb–

The day’s crowd is a mess to navigate, and with all the effort it takes to weave through his fellow pedestrians, Joshua thinks it much easier to just will himself off the ground and into the air. Finding Neku, however, takes another moment. For as well as he knows the city, its nooks and crannies are a puzzle yet solved, and his Proxy’s shock of orange can only be so much a dead (ha) giveaway.

So when he finally does locate the boy, Joshua descends with the grin of a god much too proud of his day’s work. A hand presses over his heart when he lands, and he sighs. “We finally have the chance to finish our touching conversation, then you run from me?” Only then does he deem Neku actual eye contact. 

“You wound me.”

But the dissonance finally speaks to Joshua, thoughts loud and clear and as broken as ever. So, sure, he still can’t control when other people’s thoughts flood into his head, nor can he fine-tune the signal to more than a few words yet, but it doesn’t take a genius to read the anger in Neku’s energy. And though it clicks, it doesn’t make it any easier– The flighty grin on his face easily transitions into a tepid countenance.

“… We haven’t seen each other since then, have we?” Sharp is the blade of ice in his heart, and quick does its frost overtake him. It’s an uphill battle to keep himself in the present. “The other Neku’s warmed up to me pretty quickly.”

Well– lying’s always been one of his vices.

        There’s some sort of cruel humor to derive from their meeting. Maybe the gods are laughing now, or Joshua is as he heads further down the alley, or Neku himself through the nausea bubbling from his chest. The shadows darken and the edges of his vision blur, ebbing away until all that’s clear is sickening violet and platinum blonde.

        Joshua, courtesy of being himself, reappears in the air first and meets him at eye level later. When his eyes turn, Neku is still staring him down, rhythm and composition barely present in his heartbeat and breath.

        “ I’m sorry, ” he starts, face devoid of remorse, “ I didn’t realize talking about dying was a heartfelt conversation, but what do I know? ”

        ( Judging from his last days back home, ‘nothing’ seems to be the only correct answer. )

        There’s part of him that just wants to leave and end this conversation somehow, whether it be by fight ( imagine that ) or flight. The pin in his pocket weighs heavier by the second—and yet Neku never takes it, hands curled into a fist without fire and a bell frozen in place. It’s hard to mask the confusion of another him, but chalk it up to the other to say some nonsense that may or may not be true.

        “ That must’ve been great for both of you, huh? ” He clenches his teeth and reviews every past likely lie. “ I’m sure he didn’t have to deal with getting shot again before he got here. I sure didn’t until I got home. ”

[shotthrice]

harimenuis replied to your post “musrattus replied to your post “harimenuis replied to your post ...”

actually i was gonna stab u, not shoot

is that really better though. like. think about it

[shotthrice]

musrattus replied to your post “harimenuis replied to your post “the fact that i slept through the...”

we can keep going until the numbers look nice

just gonna kill me 66 more times? is that how it is? is that what we’re doing now????????? absolutely not

[shotthrice]

harimenuis replied to your post “the fact that i slept through the entirety of the vibe check posts is...”

its okay i can vibe check u rn

no i’d like my url to stay at shotthrice not four times thanks

[shotthrice]

the fact that i slept through the entirety of the vibe check posts is a huge shame

[shotthrice]

Send me "Switcheroo!" and I'll redesign your muse as if they were from my muse's universe

[shotthrice]

ミ♫ // event. // totally don’t need any help, @levitersora​, it’s fine—

        “ Nngh- ”

        “ Damn frogs, get out of my way! ”

        He’s never had a good relationship with frogs. A weird, hyper-realistic, post-apocalyptic vision that he can’t leave just doesn’t make it better.

        ( Honestly, he’s tired of winter villages and broken cities. What he wishes for more than anything else— )

        A miraculous dodge sends Neku over toxic green-black heads and onto a strip of grey concrete squares. His thoughts fizzle and fragment in his head once more, shifting towards the monochromatic pin in his pocket. One scratch might easily take care of one frog, but more would come eventually, and he would much rather keep his wits about than be defenseless. Instead, he shakes off a clinging frog and keeps running, glaring through the rubble of the city for something, anything that could help in the desolate waste—

        And pointedly avoids the blur of colors in the corner that don’t resemble the crumbling, grey dust, his mind set on ignoring it no matter what happens next. If that’s a person (and he tries not to assume it is,) then Neku may as well throw in the towel, because the last citizen he locked eyes with caught him in a world of hell before they were nearly taken down by thin air behind him.

        ( Oh, how funny it is that things never go to plan. )

[shotthrice]

I can hear you, Joe. You don’t need to be so noisy.

  Completely avoiding contact with each other probably would have saved them both a myriad of current troubles. Not that much can be done when sprinting away from killer creatures and you nearly body a semi-familiar figure when turning a corner. Bare minimum, at least they can watch each other’s backs now, right?

  If only Joe was more focused on his surroundings instead of needing to split his energy between having a meltdown and this. He’ll apologize later.

  For now, he’ll take to dropping into a crouch and bowing his head, inhaling air with a shudder and dropping onto butt with too hard of an exhale. He scrubs at his face briefly, shakes his head to wipe away the sound of slithering and wriggling that accompany his own monsters, and breathes a bit easier now that his legs don’t have to hold him up. Athleticism be damned, honestly; he’s fast, but not as fast as Neku nor Sara, but at least he has some muscle to him to seem less like dead weight.

  “ Y… Yeah, I think… we’re safe for now, ” Joe says, shifting his position to drop his head onto his knees. The comment gets a small, weak laugh from him, clearing his chest of anxiety just a touch. “ Wish it was that easy, dude. ”

        Neku’s crossed paths with Joe so many times that he can’t tell if this or the last meeting was coincidental or on purpose. With how sore his shoulder still is from their slight collision, he can only hope it’s the former.

        ( Although ‘hope’ is a strong word for something so consequential. )

        “ It should be that easy, ” he scoffs, lips pinched as he looks around. “ I mean, if we’re going to be trapped in an apocalypse on Halloween, we have to be able to defeat whatever the hell is after us somehow. ”

        That’s at least assuming that their asshole captors, through whatever ‘good will’ they may have, wouldn’t leave them completely defenseless. Maybe that’s another huge hope, too; after all, all that Neku’s got is a barely-usable pin and some terrible headphones that he and Joe never exactly traded right.

        Whatever. He doesn’t have time to deal with that right now.

        His hands settle back on his hips as takes one last gander at their surroundings. It’s kinda hard to see through the fog and dust of the ruins, but Neku can still see on his end—enough to know that his view of the city is clear. Still, he’d rather not take any chances.

        “ We should move, ” he grumbles, pushing off his heels and walking to god knows where. “ I don’t want to turn into static because of another stupid hallucination. ”

[shotthrice]

ミ♫ // you know what, @pocketdogged​​—

        “ I should have never locked eyes with you. ”

        a laugh slips out once neku says it, though his fading smile and narrowed eyes signal it’s more sardonic than anything. he should, in a way, be used to this: partners in the UG dealt with the same rotten hell of monsters together, albeit on a different plane with slightly different enemies, and this was only so much more different than that.

        they’ve been running from stupid freakin’ foxes and something that neku can trip over—either snakes, vines, or evil jump rope, whatever the hell this guy and his dumb hairstyle have wrought upon them—for what feels like hours. in that time, neku’s given silent gratitude to the reaper’s game and kept running, even though he’s been sick of stumbling over jump ropes and his ‘partner’ has run enough steps behind him to cause worry. now, though, with the world void of noise, everything seems relatively fine, giving neku ample time to stop and lean over. when he says today’s first words to the guy that haven’t been yells, his eyes are scrunched shut, gasping for air with his hands clenched over his kneecaps until one long exhale ends and he looks back up at the other.

        “ God, are they gone yet? If I have to deal with your goddamn jump ropes one more time, I’m grabbing a cable cutter and killing them myself. ”

[shotthrice]

betrayed.

☆♫ // vi i still despise you and erika for this ask // actual meme

        even after months, the smell of blood and acrid gunpowder never leaves neku’s senses.

       in a world where snow or dreams overpower all, neku might have been able to ignore it. but now, in the odd silence generated between white tile and wood, there is no avoiding the hollow drums of trepidation that ring in his ears. the faint blur of metal passing over metal is all too vivid in neku’s head, even when the day of reckoning was more than half a year ago.

       betrayal leaves a wound that’s too deep for band-aids and too fresh for scarring. who better to know that than the boy pushed away once and shot twice by the same person in less than twenty-two days?

       something about it still cuts and bleeds him too dry for tears. everything about it is too easy to remember—there are the last shards of his memory gluing themselves back after they died in the kiln, the cold laugh against his fervid heartbeat. neku still knows most of the things he said in the room of reckoning: each fluctuation, each pause, every gesture or slight movement of his hands, his chest, the lift and fall of his head over and over and over until it all ended.

       i thought i finally found a friend i could relate to.

       for a while, neku wonders how he came to that conclusion, his fingers rubbing circles over his temples and not cold, hard steel. ‘wishful thinking’ might’ve been what rhyme or shiki would call it—what they’ve probably said once or twice, though the time that neku’s been alive has been nothing but a blur—but there’s a part of him that says it wasn’t wishful as much as it was true. he had spent one week in the equivalent of hell with him, fighting side-by-side for survival (since ‘a second chance at life’ obviously didn’t fit them both,) talking, squabbling to each other and with anyone else who stumbled upon them.

       in the end, sure, that didn’t amount to much: it could’ve easily been a farce, with every word precise, meticulous, enough to tip him off without completely breaking. but neku can’t help but shake off that it did amount to something, more so than shrewd lies and scalding, superficial words passed back and forth. it’s not as if he’ll ever really know, not when that is, essentially, the nature of joshua kiryu himself.

       all neku can really do is trust him. it’s a hard thing to do, after betrayal again and again and again, but part of him still does, even if it hurts to try.

[shotthrice]

rain !

☆♫ // this is from july // actual meme

        the rain is like acid to the gel in his hair.

       neku lets out a long, drawn sigh as orange fogs his vision. it pokes and prods, all but controllable when he tries and fails to move it away from his eyes. this hasn’t happened in a while: the last few weeks that he was at home, it was the tail end of summer break, and any time else had been in snow, the start of spring, or the unidentifiable, unpredictable weather this city tended to have. and now—

       now, he may as well go through the list. he can’t see, his clothes are already soaking wet, the shell of his bag is suffering, and the nearest trolley is too far to walk to and too long of a wait.

       well. he fixes the strap of his bag, hiking it closer to his neck than the end of his shoulder. time to walk home.

       a few steps forward is all it takes before neku sighs, detouring under an awning and unclasping the cover of his bag. one hand slicks his hair back and shakes away the rain whilst the other roots through his bag. eventually, he finds what he needs; his headphones slide around his neck and his hands further draw his hair back, some caught in an elastic band and some (at least the hair that makes him look more emo than he should look) fixed and pinned up tight.

       someone at home would probably be gawking at him. it’s not as if it’s anything new, to be fair—well, sure, yeah, okay. maybe it would be for him to be seen doing it. but he’s done it a few times before; if they were here or he was back home, it wouldn’t change that fact.

       it’d sure change the fact that he isn’t getting a response now besides the faint echoes of their voices in his head, though. and something about that realization hurts: maybe it’s that he hasn’t talked let alone seen them in months, not without the footsteps of danger following him from death to life and death again; maybe it’s that they might not even be worried for him, or maybe enough time passed before him dying and being dragged back out of his own world so that they are.

        maybe—no, it’s definitely—it’s just not worth dawdling on it.

        in one motion, neku scoffs and pushes himself back from under the awning’s canopy and back into the rain. one hand positions between his bangs and his forehead as he starts to walk once more, waiting for the pins to fall and the rain to knock them away until they don’t. his hands fall back to his sides and he hurries on, treading along the main road in the direction of home.

        for once, somehow, avoiding the rain has become more important than anything else.

[shotthrice]

ROLEPLAY HISTORY !

The rules are simple ! Post ten characters you’d like to roleplay as, have role-played as and might bring back. Then tag ten people to do the same ( if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can and tag the same amount of people ). Aside from that, please repost instead of reblogging !

CURRENTLY PLAYING:

Kaizo Jingu (Kamen Rider Fourze)

Luke Triton (Professor Layton)

Neku Sakuraba (The World Ends With You)

Pit (Kid Icarus)

WANT TO PLAY:

Almond (Cucumber Quest)

Callie (Splatoon)

Futaba Sakura (Persona 5)

Hina Izumi (Kamen Rider OOO)

Kamila (Ghost Trick)

Kiki (Kiki’s Delivery Service)

Teruki Hanazawa (Mob Psycho 100)

HAVE PLAYED:

Apollo Justice (Ace Attorney)

Callum (The Dragon Prince)

Chara (Undertale)

Ephemer (Kingdom Hearts)

Evan (Maplestory)

Junpei (Zero Escape)

Kousuke Seto (Kagerou Project)

Madeline (Celeste)

Therion (Octopath Traveler)

Toto Noel/Rio Ranger (Kimi Ga Shine/Your Turn to Die)

WILL / WOULD LIKE TO PLAY AGAIN:

Atsuko Kagari (Little Witch Academia)

Hau (Pokémon)

Joey Claire (Homestuck)

Kanna Kizuchi (Kimi Ga Shine/Your Turn to Die)

Kasumi Toyama (Bang Dream!)

Ken Amada (Persona 3)

Killua Zoldyck (Hunter X Hunter)

Phantom (Maplestory)

Robin (Iconoclasts)

Yukine (Noragami)

tagged by: nobody i just stole this last week lol

tagging: if u want this then pretend i tagged u