#But you don't have to match the length!

[astral-athame]

@diiisplxced

The idea had been Cassia's. They were all in dire need of a little time away from Ipswich- after everything that had happened to them and Caleb's and Pogue's recent break ups, it seemed like a good idea to just... go. Where? She wasn't exactly sure. Just somewhere else. Anywhere else. Admittedly, though, she hadn't expected them to agree to it. And when they had, she immediately started preparing. There had been packing to do, after all, and she also wanted to plan out stops for places to eat and sleep, to get gas and snacks. They could figure out sight seeing as they went. Maybe they could stop at a beach somewhere- she knew how much the guys liked swimming and she wouldn't mind settling in on the warm sand of the shore with a nice book.

She finished helping Pogue load things into the trunk, being sure that she kept the snacks and the small cooler of drinks in the back seat for later. Everything seemed to be in order, too, as she double checked the contents of her small backpack for things she needed to keep on hand (extra sunglasses, chapstick, phone, keys, wallet, notebook and pen for when ideas struck for a song, etc).

Finally, with everything in place, all that was left was to get in the car and go. Well, assuming the boys were ready, too. "So-" She tilted her sunglasses down to get a better look at her companions, a smile on her dark red lips. "-who's driving first?" She asked. She didn't much care for driving and hoped that she wouldn't get stuck doing it in any cities, but she'd happily do her share of it as long as it was in smaller towns and back roads.

[aletheialed]

The Chief Prosecutor from overseas, Miles Edgeworth... at first, Rayfa had come here to see him for a completely different reason to the one that's taking up all of her attention now.

Honestly, she doesn't remember the man particularly well. It's no surprise - she was in such an awful state during the time that she'd spent with him that she barely gave him a second thought with everything that had been on her mind. But he'd been kind to her - she remembers that, and she'd wanted to thank him for it. There may have been other reasons for her seeking him out, too, but right now... Rayfa has forgotten about all of them for one very specific reason: the mystery that she's determined to solve.

That is to say - the question of whatever it is she's been experiencing whenever Miles Edgeworth is nearby.

If you were to put her on the spot, she'd say it feels like spiritual power. But that makes no sense. For one thing, Rayfa has never heard of a man having spiritual power! ...Though until recently, she hadn't thought that anyone from outside of Khura'in could channel spirits... and so much of what she'd believed about the spiritual world had been wrong that it would hardly surprise her to learn if she was mistaken about more. Still - it's strange enough to have made her second guess herself. Then, there's her next source of doubt - the fact that Rayfa can't even channel spirits yet herself yet. So can she really trust herself to accurately discern what she's feeling to begin with...?

To be honest, she hates it - being so unsure of herself. It brings up bad memories in her... uncomfortable feelings that she'd hoped she had finally got rid of. But that's exactly why she's so determined to figure this mystery out right now - so much so that it takes her three times until she realized her name has been called by the man she's been staring at for the past half a minute.

"Oh! Ummm...." Suddenly, Rayfa feels awfully embarrassed. Not that she has anything to be embarrassed by, of course! Her curiosity is completely reasonable, and as the future Queen of Khura'in, she is obviously one hundred percent justified of wanting to get to the bottom of this matter!

"Mr. Chief Prosecutor! Did you- say something to me just now?"

@demon-prosecuted ( starter for edgeworth! )

[the-haunted-office]

(A starter for @alabonshay!)

"As Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left."

Stanley has forgotten how many times he's heard those words spoken in that order by that voice. Enough times that he doesn't need to be told to take the door on the left anymore, but the voice still feels the need to tell him. That's just how the Narrator is, though. Omnipresent, though perhaps not omniscient. Controlling, but not in control.

Stanley goes ahead and enters the door on the left, though. He has no reason to deviate this time around. Nothing in his gut telling him to go right instead, or to jump off any platforms, or to head down any dark and ominous corridors. Besides, it's not that he wants to listen to the Narrator this time around or that he has any particular gut feelings. He simply wants to see outside, even knowing it isn't real.

It may be the last time he sees the outside ever again, and in his yearning for freedom, he can't help but take whatever he can get.

"-2845- Stanley, have you even been listening to me? I swear, it's like talking to a wall with you sometimes. I don't know why I even bother."

Stanley presses his lips together and enters in the code behind the boss' desk, although he manages to resist rolling his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd been tuning out the Narrator. Everything is on autopilot this time around, it seems, and most of the time through the Story he doesn't even need to listen to the Narrator to know where he needs to go. It's the same thing every time, so what's the point?

The fireplace swings open, the Narrator drones on, and Stanley continues his march, onward toward the Ending he's reached dozens if not hundreds of times before.

Getting there is the boring part, and as the clank and clang of his shoes echo on the concrete floors and metal catwalks, Stanley begins to tune out the voice in the ceiling again.

The voice in the ceiling notices.

Meanwhile neither of them notices when something goes fantastically... different.

"-Stanley decided that this machinery would never again exert its- Stanley, you're just not listening to me, are you? Here you are, seconds away from your freedom, and you're acting like you're a walking corpse. I might as well be talking to one. I don't know why I bother with you sometimes, if I'm honest."

Stanley gives a small shrug in acknowledgment as he enters the door into the room with the Mind Control machine. He can see the blue glow from the enormous monitor just beyond the door. Here, he'll have to make his choice whether to turn the machine On or Off.

"Well, if you're so content with being dead already why don't you- .....What the HELL is THAT?"

Stanley comes to an abrupt halt, because he sees it too. Something is standing there in front of the controls. Something a lot bigger and bulkier than he is, and better dressed to boot.

Lacking any other reasonable way to respond to this situation, the office worker just stands there. And waves a hello.

[brittlefcrged]

OPEN BG3 starter / first night, post prologue, pre-Withers, pre-grove.

It might not have been the wisest of decisions to slip away from their makeshift camp alone, with night already falling, but it was, she had decided, the best decision. The ... safest decision. For the others, at least.

The githyanki had proven helpful in the escape from the nautiloid, and informative enough, in the aftermath, even with hope for a potential cure to the worms that wriggled in the depths of their skulls, but the warrior's short temper and brash desire to command had already grown irksome. The wizard -- genial enough, certainly, but too much so for Clarissa's already raw nerves -- and she hadn't been able to quell the hunger that had been gnawing in the pit of her stomach since their encounter, the urge, the need to know what his tender flesh would feel like between her teeth -----

The cleric, with her feigned haughtiness that did little to disguise the uncertainty and paranoia that hung acrid in the air around her had at least proven herself capable of gratitude, but between those three, and the sly and cavalier, pale skinned elf that was at ill at ease in his own skin as she was in hers.... she had needed to get away from it. From them, while she had any semblance of control over herself.

Whatever, whomever she had been in her previous life, she didn't think it had been much of a people person.

She'd found her way to the edge of a brook at the base of the low cliff, not far from where they'd found Lae'zel, and after rinsing off the worst of the blood and assorted gore from the day's events, she had settled, cross legged, a flask of wine in one hand and wedges of bread and cheese perched atop her bag next to her in an attempt to take the time to gather her thoughts, and attempt to clear her mind -- a low snort, fingers breaking off a chunk of cheese and bread. Clearing her mind was rather the opposite of what she needed to do, wasn't it?

The sound was subtle, the smallest creak of a branch stretched a little too far from its trunk to just be the wind, barely audible above even the low murmur of the creek and the ambient sounds of the night that surrounded her -- and her uninvited guest -- but it was enough to announce the presence of another. "I'd much rather not end this day with further bloodshed," that was a lie, though, too, wasn't it? "But if you do not make yourself known to me, my blade will bite." And so might I.

[a-hell-of-a-time-archive]

@copaceticjillybean

There were reasons why the marquis rarely went out alone. He knew that there were some among the lower houses who had it out for him, waiting in the shadows for their moment to strike. While Andrealphus was nowhere near the same status as a prince such as Stolas, he was still high enough in the hierarchy to have a target placed on his back.

This fact was made known to him as he slowly dragged himself down a nearby alley, a bloodied hand clutching his injured arm which was, arguably, the worst of his injuries. If anyone were to even look at his now bruised and battered self, most would not know who he was.

Of course, the fools who tried to jump him ended up worse off. Various headless corpses littered the alley floor behind him, and those who managed to keep their heads were lacking various other parts. Others still were left covered in ice except for the gaping holes where their hearts were supposed to be. It was all quite messy, he thought as shards of ice fell from his hands, the remains of his sword scattering below. Had it been Caim, the cuts would have been far more clean, and the fight finished in an instant. She had always been better than him at this.

A hiss escaped his throat as he leaned against a nearby wall, his vision blurring as pain wracked his body. He had used the majority of his magic in the fight, and it took all of what he had left to remain conscious. He knew he should call for assistance, but his pride and unwillingness to admit that he fucked up big time pushed him forward. If either his sister or Caim were to catch wind of this, he would never live it down. Not to mention that the media would find out and descend upon him like they did when his former brother in law ended up in the hospital.

He had to do this alone.

He would get himself out of this.

He ended up collapsing in the middle of the alley, his vision fading to black before hitting the ground.

[imsammyclaflin]

Horrorween Night In

Sam had learned a lot since spending more and more time with Chris, one of those being where he kept his spare key. Not that Chris would have minded him coming over unannounced but this was a suprise of sorts. They had already made plans to hang out and watch a horror film or two but Sam wanted to show off and cook for him. The Brit was in no way a master but he had managed to make some pretty decent meals for himself and others in the past so he figured he would give it a shot tonight. He wanted to keep it simple with spaghetti and homemade meatballs, a dish that he knew Chris loved.

He had everything prepared and put the bread in the oven, walking away to go finish getting ready. He hadn't been in the bathroom that long when he started smelling something burning and he immediately freaked out, running to the kitchen to see smoke starting to billow from the oven. "Fuck! Fuck!" He said, opening the oven door to let some of the smoke out. He reached up and turned it off before running over to open the window, fanning the smoke outside. "I'm so dead. He's gonna kill me." Shaking his head, he pulled the cremated remains of their garlic bread from the still smoking oven just as his boyfriend walked in. @famepine

[intvngibles]

open  to :  anyone !

location :  sunny shore pier

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SNEAKING OUT LATE at night probably doesn’t count as one of dj’s brightest ideas, but he could never find any food at home  (  or rather, find any he liked enough to finish once opened  ) and given that the food stalls would never disappoint him in his time of need, his trip will surely be worth it in the end. dj finds space to park and dismounts from his motorcycle, balancing his helmet on top of the seat. he made his way to one of the corndog stalls and pays, settling down on a bench nearby. “  this fucking corndog was calling my name all night, holy shit.  ”  his mouth watered at the sight, not even wasting a second thought before biting into his dinner for the day. the entire time he was focused on his food, dj didn't even realize he was sharing the bench with someone else. his eyes lit up in surprise, smiling sheepishly. “  sorry, was this seat taken  ?  i didn't mean to interrupt.  ” / @palmviewstarters !

[harshlxve]

open to: f muse: jalen agholor ( alternate muse: everett welch, rian costagen, diego alcaraz ) plot: jalen is a owner of the most popular club in new york city, but it's really all a front for his crime empire. everything from d.rugs, to gambling, to prostitut!on. your muses boyfriend owes alot of money due to one of those things, your muse has come to 'pay his debt' as a last resort. jalen is based loosy off james st patrick from the tv show Power. that's the kinda situation we're working with. wanted fcs: here

if it wasn't for the guards that were armed that stood outside his office, it would seem like it was just like any other nightclub. to anyone that came to his club it was exactly that, most people would go about their day seeing jalen as just a business owner that ran the most successful and popular club in the city but in reality he ran far more around the cities. he was connected to more crime than someone could fathom, and he ran all that by being very strict with his rules and never giving people second chances. he rarely cared about the things his lower workers were doing, but when one of them came up especially short on money he started asking questions. then he was told that the man had stated his girlfriend would pay his debts, however necessary. that was enough to get jalen's attention, so he had them bring the girl to him instead. the office was lavish, behind his desk a wall that was one large plane of glass that look down on the night club. "send her in" he announced to the men at the door who opened it. He was turned away from the door looking out over the club, people dancing like there was no care in the world. "have you been here before?" he finally asked as he turned around to see the younger woman, his eyes moving up and down her body for a moment. "my name is jalen, what's your's?" his words weren't harsh, but they had an edge to them that seemed like they could become such instantly.

[soulfulempathy]

@painofhumanity

It hadn't been hard for Morgan to convince Yuki to go to a bar. What had been an unfriendly reminder was the amount of people in one room who wanted to fuck his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word left a strange flavor in his mouth, even though it was accurate. Just...not the word Yuki would've otherwise used.

Though Morgan was attracting a lot of attention, he didn't seem to notice (or he didn't care). Morgan's focus was still on Yuki, which filled him with a sense of smug pride, despite the way his body was coiled to snap.

And then the man whose desire had overpowered the others decided to try his luck.

He'd come up to them -- specifically Morgan -- and drawn his attention away from Yuki. A large guy, tall and muscular. And apparently full of arrogance and cockiness, for him to come up to someone else's boyfriend and blatantly flirt.

Of course...Yuki hadn't exactly shown the other patrons that Morgan was his.

When the stranger touched Morgan's arm, invited him back to his place, Yuki couldn't take it anymore.

He stood abruptly and got between them, shoving the man back by his excessively broad chest. He towered over Yuki, probably a foot taller than him, but Yuki wasn't intimidated. All those muscles wouldn't save him from eating the floor, if need be.

"Back off my boyfriend," Yuki snarled, staring up at the other man like there was no height difference. That taste became stronger, but the word was out, and he wasn't going to take it back.

The man had the audacity to laugh, and Yuki became keenly aware of the knives hidden throughout his person.

"Do you have a death wish, kid?"

Yuki's expression turned to stone, a scowl taking over his face that he could never quite achieve before. His eyes went cold, and Yuki shoved a tendril of his power down the man's throat, coated in an acute panic that would no doubt take days to shake off. The man drew in a harsh breath and his eyes widened as he clutched his chest, where his heart was no doubt hammering against his ribs. Yuki pushed harder, even though it drained him quickly. He refused to show it. He was more interested in how far he could push the man, and a smirk curved his lips as he watched him drop to his knees.

Soon even Morgan faded into the background, as did the yells to call an ambulance, while Yuki lapped up every second of blind panic he was causing.

[worthyheir]

@hcncrablesacrifice / vaguely plotted starter

He had made it to the Dragonmont just in time to see his mother fly away on Syrax, and that had been several hours ago. Since then, he was stuck on Dragonstone - he could not leave their home defenseless, particularly with their monarch having left. He had been told the reason, that Seasmoke had gained a new rider and she went to discover who it might be. His eyes have been searching the skies since she left, awaiting her return, when a member of the Queensguard finds him. A boat was spotted nearby, three travelers aboard when it was picked up: the Queen Dowager, the usurper Queen, and her young Princess daughter.

Without Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, and her Hand back to Driftmark, it was to Prince Jacaerys that they sought what they should do with these enemies on their shores. It could be a trap, but if the Guard had already rounded them up, saying that the Queen Dowager was demanding an audience with Rhaenyra (what rights did she had to demand anything of any of them anymore?), he did not think so. It was not as though any of the guard or council would leave their Queen alone with this woman, not after what had happened the last time someone from King's Landing had infiltrated their walls.

If Alicent wanted an audience with someone at Dragonstone this day, it would have to be him. As much as he would have preferred to have her thrown into a cell, he knew his mother would not have done so. However, separating Helaena and Jaehaera from her seemed the best move - placing them in a room under guard, while having the Queen Dowager wait for him in another. He would see her first, discover why they would risk coming to Dragonstone, even cloaked and by ship.

Prince Jacaerys entered the room armed - he does not go near anywhere now without a sword sheathed at his side, truly, but she would not need to be aware of that - head held high, and despite the attempt to appear diplomatic, it is difficult to keep the disdain from his voice when he does speak. The guards remain outside the door by his order, though he does not fear this former Queen who has come to his home for a purpose. They are present in case she attempted to leave, after he discovered her purpose here. "I was told you were demanding an audience. The Queen is otherwise occupied, and will be for several hours. If you wish to see her, you'll have to speak with me first."

[freewillacquired]

In a world ravaged by a virus that primarily creates monsters, nasty encounters are in no short supply. When Rain begins to hear heavy footfalls—when she feels them practically shaking the ground beneath her, she figures she's about to have another.

Cursing under her breath, she unholsters her gun.

The days were blending together in depressing ways now. Nemesis was shocked at how quickly things had gone to hell after the Hive and Raccoon City Incidents. It had taken him quite a while to regenerate after the city's "sanitation," but once he was on his feet again, he realized the gravity of what was happening to the world.

Alone and with nothing left to do in his current mutated state, Nemesis had taken to showing up at Umbrella facilities unannounced, and destroying as much of them as he could. The digital feed supplied by the retinal implant attached to his right eye and sewn up into his head gave him a lot of useful information, especially after his mind was liberated from Umbrella's control. May as well put it to good use, right?

He'd acquired more clothes and equipment this way, with the boots and leather trenchcoat-style getup being standard issues for a creature called a Tyrant, which he apparently now was. They seemed just about the only things that were going to fit his... unique body shape nowadays.

Learning about himself and destroying Umbrella assets were good pastimes, but Nemesis was extremely lonely. The few survivors he came across now and then either screamed and ran from him or shot at him. Bullet wounds were nothing more than annoying mosquito bites to him now, thanks to his thick hide, but even so... it was demoralizing. All he wanted to do was help. He was almost getting used to being alone all the time, by necessity rather than desire, until that unexpectedly changed. While exploring a city one day, he rounded a corner and-

"Raaaain!" Nemesis bellowed the moment he saw her, unable to contain his excitement upon seeing her. "Oh... ny god!" He couldn't believe his eyes. Well, eye. He still had two, but one was... indisposed. In a move that probably looked damn near ridiculous to the other, he lifted his hand... and waved to her. "I'n so glad... to see you! How... are you... alithe... right now?" he tried to ask, his massive chompers getting in the way, as usual.

Nemesis couldn't get his voice to be anything other than a monotone growl, and with monstrous teeth and a noticeable lack of lips, his speech was something of a garbled mess. It took him a while, but he'd learned to make certain sounds in other ways, using his throat and tongue. Essentially, he'd had to relearn how to speak. Some sounds and words, though, were lost forever. None of that did anything to curb his enthusiasm at seeing Rain alive, however. Was he finally losing his mind? Hallucinating, maybe? No, the target identification system is identifying her as Rain... Right now, Nemesis didn't care either way. Just the sight of her was one for sore eyes, since his last clear memory of her was being at death's door.

"I thought... the anti-thirus... didn't work...?" he said, his elation at seeing her alive completely overriding his common sense. Nemesis wasn't thinking about the fact that Rain wouldn't recognize him anymore, or about how negatively she would likely react to seeing the hulking beast before her. Not to mention his tentacles, rooted at the backs of his shoulders, which were excitedly coiling and undulating in their own right, reacting to his surprise and happiness. He batted one of them with his hand. "Cut it out...!" he admonished the obnoxious appendage. It recoiled temporarily before returning to its idle activities.

Then it dawned on him, especially with how she had her gun at the ready. Oh no... she has no idea who I am. "It's Natt," he said, laying his hand on his chest. "Natt... Ad-di-son." How pathetic is it that I can't even say my own name correctly anymore? he thought grimly.

[mad-hunts]

jokethur asked: ❝ that's not the worst thing i've ever heard but it's certainly up there. ❞

one might argue that the way barton huffed through his nostrils in a wry sense of disbelief at what he heard come out of the other's mouth, rather than at the terrible thing that was just said through his own lips without an ounce of shame, told you everything you needed to know about him; that he was a brutal and very unfeeling person. but honestly, even if those things were the least bit true, barton thought... he was only saying what everyone would be thinking in their heads if they knew what was really going on behind the scenes. they just wouldn't want to say it aloud for one reason or another, whether that was due to the fear of being ostracized by their peers, or frowned down upon by society as a whole. kind of like how he was currently by the man standing beside him.

barton took a long drag out of his cigarette and averted his gaze from one of the big, bright displays that decorated the skyline to meet the others eyes. the displays were showcasing what looked like the latest news: and that was what barton seemingly was making a comment on, as the death of a cop that was rather infamous for being a ' pinnacle of kindness and care to their community ' was the main headline for that day. except that man was everything but in reality. it was just so rich to be seeing him regarded as some fantastic guy, when barton knew for a fact that he was a sleazeball who he had seen hanging around his old boss, as he was secretly in their pocket and doing their dirty work. and if there was one person that barton held contempt for more than anything... it was the man who used to treat him like he was something less than human. or, less than dirt, actually.

but of course, barton would never tell the gcpd of his corruption because he knew that rainer (you have to put a face to the name for these people) would realize that it was him who'd sold him out. and besides... since when did he have faith in the gcpd, or even like the police? they were all a bunch of pigs to him. so, barton let him continue on with his little game of playing the role of the well-beloved police officer while he was helping people get killed on the side. he rolled his eyes then, ❝ well, if i had known that you were such a big fan of the police, then i likely wouldn't have said anything. but i rest my case: a lot of people do deserve to die, stranger, and he was one of them. so i don't feel sorry for him or his family at all. ❞

barton stated this all in a very matter-of-fact manner, blowing smoke out through his nose from his cigarette before he continued, ❝ i mean, where was this guy if he was so good whenever the city got flooded? i didn't see him among the people who were helping other's whenever everything went to shit. in fact, i bet he was probably sitting in some place really safe and warm whenever it happened, because i knew the real kind of person that he was. a total prick who certainly wasn't the golden boy that the news is trying to make him out to be, ❞ he flicked his cigarette down on the ground and smushed it underneath his boot, successfully putting out the fire on its other end. barton turned to face arthur completely with an unamused look in his eyes.

❝ now, are you done preaching to me about how wrong it is that i said that? you don't really know the first thing about the pig after all. but i do. though you didn't hear that from me, alright? ❞

[hazbinned]

@mothvalentino - Plotted Starter!

It had been a tumultuous two and a half weeks since Valentino had shown up at the Hotel, hoping for acceptance with a tale to tell. Reactions had been mixed, to say the least. Angel had behaved how one might expect— and in his stead, Vaggie and Husk had leapt to the defense— while Niffty had remained her usual, frenzied self.

Charlie Morningstar was practically the only person among them who wanted to give the moth a chance, but even Alastor was quick to pick up on the fact that the princess did not fully believe the story Val had told. Apparently, Valentino had relinquished his Overlord status, freed all his souls, and wanted to leave the Vees. Why? Vox and Velvette were upset with him? It wasn't safe for him out there anymore? He'd had everything, and now he had nothing.

Why do that to himself?

It was early afternoon when Charlie had appointed Alastor to his latest task, which was, to his utmost disappointment... to try and make some kind of 'progress' with the moth. Everyone else was avoiding Val, (except for Niffty), so Charlie had suggested that Alastor make him feel more welcome and embraced (as if!), solely because the two of them were both Overlords with a dark past.

Ex-Overlords, in Val's case. As if that put them on some kind of common ground!

Alastor had just about snuck up on Val, shoe tap-tap-tapping as he craned his neck to see beyond the moth's shoulders and white furred ruff.

"What are you making?" he asked, far less curious in tone than he should have been.

Valentino was the only one who frequented Charlie's craft room, after all. Was it some kind of coping mechanism?

Were Alastor truly interested in the younger man's art, he wouldn't always avoid the place like the plague. Simply put, the room had far too much glitter strewn about, and way too many cutesy decorations on the walls for his liking-- why Charlie hadn't taken his suggestions this time, he would never know.

Who in their right mind would want a mural of cartoonish flowers leering down at them while they drew?

The Radio Demon shuffled the stack of papers he held in his hands, then plopped them down on the table (right beside Val's painting) and took the seat opposite him. Smiling in a polite, rehearsed way, he stretched his fingers and began:

"Charlie says we're to be paired up today. We're to get to know each other. She's prepared me with her idea of a 'friendship quiz'..." His eyes drifted over to the pile. "... Let's get this over with, hmm?"

[fiorserpen]

@designedparadigm

agatha doesn't have much faith in dating apps when it seems most are in it for hookups and not real relationships. still, her friends insisted she put herself back out there if she actually wanted to find someone to be with. they argued it was better and easier than being a hopeless romantic and waiting for the right person to simply come into her life one day. she is a hopeless romantic, though, but she wants to be little more hopeful about it instead. agatha has had a few successful and a handful of unsuccessful first dates, none of which went anywhere. it tempts her to delete the app from her phone, but... oh, just one more chance can't hurt, right?

with the shop empty at this current moment, agatha leans against the counter, looking through tinder while she has this little bit of free time. there were a lot of handsome guys and pretty women, of course, but none that strike her fancy until she comes upon one profile that stops her swiping all at once. cash forscythe, hm? she looks over his profile, scrolling through the little obligatory biography and his likes and interests and what he hopes for from someone. agatha scrolls back up to look through his pictures. he's really cute, isn't he? tall, handsome, and quite the dazzling grin. she takes the chance and swipes right on cash's profile before setting her phone aside to help a customer that came into the shop.

once that was all over, she checked her phone to see cash had swiped right on her profile as well, blinking in surprise at the message he sent her. her features soon relax and a smile forms on her lips.

> well, hi to you, too! 😊 and i'm rarely deterred by appearances, especially when you're very handsome! > i suppose i might also be a bit surprised you swiped right on me, i wasn't sure i'd be your type

[inmensapotentia]

Kisuke had asked Juushiro to come to the living world so they could do some tests on his new Hollow capabilities, hoping to test them to see if he could hold a mask for longer than a few seconds. Though the handful of seconds he could summon his mask was plenty for him to become a threat, not totally able to tell friend and foe apart. Which was why Shunsui had decided to accompany him to the World of the Living; he was the only one that Juushiro had so far proven able to identify with his mask in place. Shunsui's lieutenants could manage things for a day or two. Honestly Nanao could probably do a better job than just about anyone after the years she'd spent dealing with Shunsui.

Everything had seemed to be going well.

Up until the cleaner suddenly appeared while they were in the senkaimon. That was most definitely not supposed to be happening.

Hands automatically clasping, the two ran towards the light at the end of the tunnel. Leaping from the portal, they both caught themselves in the air, reiatsu gathering under their feet without any real effort. Panting from the unexpected run, the two of them looked at each other seriously. Though it soon devolved into soft laughing from both of them as they calmed their racing hearts.

Looking down at the city below them, Juushiro frowned slightly as he took in the view. Something didn't seem right about the concrete jungle below them. "Does...something look...strange to you?"

Shunsui looked down as well and Juushiro's frowning proved contagious. "I don't think we made it to Karakura Town."

"Perhaps we should verify?" It made more sense than wasting time going back to the Seireitei to come back to the Land of the Living; if they were lucky they'd just missed by a town or two and could get there quickly enough.

Nodding his agreement, the brunet began walking down through the air to the ground. While they likely couldn't be seen by anyone, those who could tended to be uncommon, they still made sure to come down to the ground in an empty alleyway. As they did, Juushiro dug out a small silver tin from his pocket. Inside were a couple of portable gigai; one for each of them.

Quickly slipping into their gigai's, the two Captain's stepped out of the alleyway, practically running over a petite woman. Shunsui was quick to steady her, one large hand gripping her upper arm firmly. "Sorry, are you okay?"

[thefvrious]

@ruinedsoulsrp loosely based on x

Dale Vranas has spent her whole life trying to outrun her own shadow. She worked hard to get out of the trailer park and even harder to graduate at the top of her class not once, not twice, but three times. The hardest work she's ever put in, though, is being seen as capable in her current position.

She's young for a state representative, but she means business, never backs down, and goes toe-to-toe with even the strongest personalities, the toughest men. The biggest issue lately has been balancing her work and personal life. And, to be honest, she didn't much care for the latter, though that charming stockbroker she'd met at one of the parties where the rich rub elbows had been heavy on her mind. They'd exchanged numbers after playful banter — was it flirtation? — and now, at the bar after a long day, she sat staring at her phone in her hand, the message she'd already sent glaring back at her.

"Dumbass." She said to herself as she looked at the desperation in a little blue bubble.

Full disclosure: I'm drunk and I'll probably regret this in the morning... I think about kissing you all the time.

After re-reading it for the nth time, she swallowed down the rest of the whiskey in her glass and put pressed the button on the side of her phone to put the device to sleep, gesturing for the bartender to bring her another one. Dale could only hope that his message in response didn't shatter her ego.