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29 days ago
Current Just ran a stale yellow. Nobody on this website is doing it like me, sticking it to the man like me, blazing a trail against tyranny like me. the only thing revolutionary about you is your rhetoric
3 likes
2 mos ago
Takeru Segawa is the type of man they made myths out of. Intensely privileged to be able to say I watched him burn so bright as he did before going out with a win. I’ll miss you, hero.
3 mos ago
a frayed thread on the colorful tapestry of our existence, begging to be yanked until the whole thing unravels, a suggestive, inviting golden glow around the idea of leaking my buddy's DMs to his wife
6 likes
4 mos ago
I'm like the "conspicuously modded with multiple trojan backdoors skyrim save on your friend's screenshare stream" of white boys
4 likes
5 mos ago
Completely fucking up my field sobriety test as i clamber out of the honda fit i've wrapped around a lightpost, staggering everywhere, before finally scoring a big fat goose egg on the breathalyzer
9 likes

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Most Recent Posts

"Wha? Who's that?" Bro asks, craning his neck to look past both his shoulder and your arm to locate the source of the very distressed voice hew'd felt you run into.

You smirk, hoisting him up to his feet and unhanding him with a sly "Easy, Casanova."

He glares at you, still sore about the girl problems he has already. You can't blame him, but he'd handle your banter just fine in the end. Instead of concerning yourself with that, you raise a hand in greeting as the shrinkingest of your class's violets apologizes about a million times more than necessary.

"Yo, Senhime-chan! I was just rescuing my buddy Takauji here from getting caught between a rock and a soft place, what's up?"

Do you talk to her often?

No

Do you talk to her like you talk to her often?

A little bit

"Er, hi, I'm Takauji Aragaki. Sorry for any trouble he's caused you and the rest of your class." your buddy says, introducing himself with a polite bow.

You affect an air of betrayal, gasping for dramatic effect and holding a hand to your razor-sharp mouth.

To his credit, he ignores your fooling around politely.
You're often catching yourself thinking you see things differently from most other people.

"Takauji needs to come over and study with me, if he wants to actually learn something!"

That you perceive the world around you in a way unique to you yourself, that nobody could quite match, at least around here.

"Preposterous. He needs to work with someone who really knows how he is to study effectively, a childhood friend, like me."

That it's hard to find people looking through the type of lens that you do, thanks to your unique personality and upbringing.

"K-Kanami, Kaede... let's just calm down, okay?"

And not just because of the vibrant orange shades you love to wear.

Your name is Tomoda Nakamichi, or sometimes "Aloha-kun", and as of right now, you're witnessing a squabble straight out of your favorite generic anime. Before you stands a trio of people you know pretty well at this point— leftmost is Kanami Ippotsuko, the slim, waifish childhood friend of Takauji's, but never so much yours, with a head of short white hair, piercing red eyes, and a doll-like face that altogether made you wonder sometimes if she was entirely Japanese. She's currently hugging herself close to he prize's arm, and trying to guide him home to something more akin to a dote-upon session than actual study.

Well, no, not true. There would probably be plenty of studying involved, given that she was near the top of the class in grades and genuinely did worry about his performance in turn. She'd let no future husband of hers flunk out.

To the right— Kaede Inoue, last year's class rep and the only girl you knew to be all at once cute, hot, and finally absolutely terrifying. She, on the other hand, had brown hair of middling length, hard set brown eyes to match, and again, a not-unattractive face, that just so happened to almost always be hard and humourless whenever you looked at it. Enough to make you forget how sexy she could be if she lightened up. Although, the moments of tsun were many from her, whenever your buddy Takauji unearthed her inner dere, it was a moment to treasure for everyone present. Like witnessing an eclipse. She was doing much the same to his other arm, pulling it into her sizeable bosom as she tried to forcefully yank Takauji away to a study session 3 parts strict coursework, and the fourth devolving into a high pressure stuttermachine as an innocent query was asked, her charge none the wiser.

Finally in the middle, the source of it all. Takauji Aragaki, the man who you in middle school deemed the town's very own LN protagonist and at three years old your brother from another mother. You were surprised you'd gotten this far into high school without him being some sort of chosen one about to save the world. You mean, he was p e r f e c t f or the role, too! Good looking in an average way, black hair all gelled up into impossible spikes because he thought it looked cool (yours were better though), a kind, helpful disposition, even few friends growing up aside from you and Kanami! He could even fight well too, being the rising star of your martial arts club, so he really had it all! He, much to his chagrin, was stuck in the middle of the two girls, and you weren't sure how much longer he could stretch between them.

Well, hey, he had you, too. You, the Hawaiian shirt-wearing, shades-equipping, snaggley-teethed grinning, absolute madman-being best buddy. And you know what?

It was time to live up to your name in the only way you knew how.

>Vouch for Kanami [ ]
>Vouch for Kaede [ ]
>Try to compromise [ ]
>Just stand there and let it play out [ ]
>Vouch for yourself [X]

"Sorry, Ladies!" you call jovially, grin cheshire as ever. "Buuuut Takauji an' I have some club planning business to attend to, so..."

They turned about face, ready to tell you to buzz off—

And in that moment, that mere fraction of a second where their attention wasn't upon the object of their affections, you strike.

"Yyyyyyoink!"

You grab your best friend by his collar and book it with the speed of an Olympian, laughing merrily down the halls as he slips free of their inattentive grasps and finds himself more than content to just be dragged by you. As you round a corner, you glance back to see the girls finally squawking in surprise as they process the sheer chutzpah of this action.

It probably also was around when they remembered that Martial Arts Club was cancelled for today, as you'd both stated previously.

Well, whatever, he was now free of their grasp, and that's all that you cared about. You wouldn't be a proper bro to your Bro if you let him get ripped in half before the bad guys even showed up.

But unfortunately, it'd be so much easier if the four of you were in the same class again...

Well, you'd do as you always did. The very best you could, and damn anyone who thinks that you wouldn't be able to make sure it's enough.

"You're a lifesaver, man..." the spiky-haired fistfighter breathes from behind you as he slides across the hall's floor.

Chuckling again, grin still on your face dutifully, you pump a little more power into your stride as you make distance.

"Different class or not, I've always got your back, brother."

Hopefully you'd get to the roof unmolested today.
Name: Tomoda “Aloha-kun” Nakamichi

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Arcana: Magician

Equipment: One strong-looking Nine-Iron, a rosary, more eyewear than you’d ever believe necessary (mainly triangular shades), the Necronomicon and other such Grimoires, a Japanese-to-English dictionary.

Skills: Greco-Roman wrestling, whiz with a golf club, knowledge of the paranormal and supernatural, knowledge of anime and internet culture, bit of a sneakster, bit of a trickster, most casually optimistic guy ever. Girl-crazy smartass.

Appearance: Standing tall and lanky for a Japanese teenager at 5’10, Tomoda is most immediately recognizable in a crowd by his never-buttoned Hawaiian shirt, his obscenely cool triangular shades, and his wild, bleached blonde hair and chin scruff. Always wearing a cheshire, shark-toothed smile and waltzing around town with his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts, he is the epitome of carefree in body language and demeanor, with the brown eyes hidden behind the eyepieces always either gleaming with humor or an insidious plot to do something dumb and rope his friends into it.

Personality: In case you couldn’t tell yet, he is defined by his carefree disposition and whimsical actions. Nakamichi’s both a willful idiot and a wise guy, always acting as if he’s at play even in the most dire of situations. Not to be written off as a simple bellend, however, he’s quite adept at thinking on his feet and balancing himself no matter how shaky the ground he and the gang are standing on gets. Openly friendly and good-natured, he’s the type of guy who is enjoying his youth wholeheartedly. His interests are a big part of who he is, and he’s never one to shy away from talking about them. Especially if the interest in question is girls. Hates goodbyes.

Biography: Born into a fairly normal life, Tomoda was an only child with few real sibling figures, or for a good while, friends. As such, he was left to marinate in the things he found interesting, which happened to be fantastical stories of the arcane, paranormal, and supernatural right up until about his second year of middle school. At that point a drastic paradigm shift occurred, and the formerly nameless face in the crowd became gregarious in the extreme, eventually leading to the brazen boy we all know today. His family owns and runs the local mini golf course, and he’s going to get a part-time job there soonish. So he says, anyway, “because girls like a working man”.

Persona

Name: Jack o’ Lantern (Pyro Jack)

Appearance:


Traits:
-Reflects:None
-Absorbs: Fire
-Void: None
-Resist: None
-Weak: Ice
Abilities: Agi
Sukunda
Provoke
Funny that

I am
16 suggests first or second years
How far along into the year are we? Around the second week or something?
get off the damn phone crim


Brewing Storm


A thin line was the running description of Luke's mouth as they made their way through Chemical Processing. The only sounds they heard now were their own footsteps, tapping out a staccato rhythm upon the tile floor. Scanning the chamber twice, thrice over, he couldn't shake a sense of discomfort carving a hole in the pit of his gut.

I can't even hear their screams anymore—
This is like what I always heard about shark attacks on Animal Planet.


It was always the deafening silence that came right before. When the Ocean goes still, something big is about to happen.

"I can't hear any more screams." he reported in a low voice to the team behind him, slowing pace by a half-step. "Maybe they were a trap, some sort of mimickry to lure us in?"

He should have considered that, considering what they'd been fighting recently. Stupid...

"Or maybe..." he gulped down a stone hadn't realized he'd been swallowing. "Maybe they're all—"

CLANG!


What the heck was that?!


...

"Thaaaaaaaaaaaat didn't sound good. Jack, should we mess with it?" he asked, now completely stopped and warily staring down the drum that had been the source of the noise.

Because if it was his choice, the answer would probably be an emphatic Never, unless there were somehow people in there.
I like him
who's the fool
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