pugbutter

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

Yeah it's pretty important to conveying interpersonal reletionships in Japanese.

Surname = more formal
Given name = more friendly

Honorific = more formal, less affectionate
No honorific = very affectionate, all but reserved for family only

And obviously there's the minefield of knowing whether to call a gang-girl "-chan" or not, because some will be flattered but others will take it as fightin' words, like you're calling them small and frail or something 😬 lmao

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

@Zoey Boey Is Yonaka the surname and Aimi the given name?

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

@Courtaud Li'l bit of godmoding in my post; I'll remove if it's troublesome for you

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

"Yo."

Of course. Minato remembered now: a few minutes ago he had heard the grunty timbre of a bike engine, crawling into the school parking lot and then dying there, like a sick wolf unburdening the pack of itself; and if he was watching, he had also seen the single headlight, a knife slicing through the skin of the dark, also strangled with the same flick of a killswitch. He wasn't, however. Not now, not here, with the cooled summer breeze sweeping the roof, and the city in full resplendency, extinguishing the stars in its quiet-deathly halo.

They exchanged wordless greetings: Ishida's nod dipped downward with the weight of his mannered reverence. Yūya's snapped upward, inflated by attitude. Yūya snatched away with a spot along the wall. Liberating his shoulder of a bookbag's yokes, setting it aground, he had already betrayed its contents, for glass settled against glass and loosed a frail, inconsonant song. Condensation already melted from the bottles as Yūya lifted them—twelve in all, already bundled in their cardboard cliques—from his school-regulation vessel. It carried those things which taught him, and those which made him forget what he had learned, with equal aplomb.

While his hands roamed Hawaiian shirt and bontan pants pockets for a pack and a lighter, his eyes similarly roamed: to the access door, unstirred as if frozen in shyness; to HVAC pipes, typically a perch for other, more solitary creatures; along the wall, where his was the only bookbag. Somehow, despite himself, the night had seen him early to this rendezvous. And with that affirmed, finally his eyes could shelter upon Ishida Minato, and the goosebumps on his skin could understand, a little bit better, the climate of their souls, and the arcing in the electrical currents of their hearts. Ishida-san stood dramatically by the edge of the roof, and turned to pretend he had just been caught in a moment of vulnerable reflection, as if to be ashamed of a gaping wound for showing Yūya the stuff beneath. A moment choreographed, and then performed, perfectly. Yūya, content to play his part this night, also feigned surprise, letting a glance betray whatever curiosity, admiration, or envy it pleased as it flinched from Ishida like he was an inferno, too bright, too hot. Not all of it was artifice, however. Out in the mountains the distant city congealed into a puddle of light; but here, among the blood-throb of the city, they could be counted. Reconciled. Every individual streetlight down there, the brake lights on the cars, the ramen shops' back-alley bloom, the apartment windows filled with alien, familial warmth: if each mote of light represented an enemy to defeat, Ishida was scheming his blackout. But at least in the mountains one was safe. Here, mingling his light among the others? Ishida-san's spark seemed just as fragile as theirs, snuffed with hardly a blink.

That's right. Yūya had to hate this guy, didn't he? If the hate wasn't instinct, then he had to learn it, accept it into himself. He'd have to reject this rejuvenating breeze, so that his most baleful fires could be stoked.

Too easy to forget up here. Too pretty ...

... But for now, a cigarette. The flickering hiss of the lighter dyed his hand a watery orange, and then Yūya had added his own tiny spark to the city's blaze. His first puff fed the ember, which shrank away again behind a veil of brittle ash. Tucking the thing between his knuckles, he reached for a bottle and the opener next. "You want one,「bosu」?" Yūya called across the distance.

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

No sir

Edit: Never mind I forgot the 0th Post doesn't give you notifications or contribute to the post count. Me me big brain

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

For those who missed the OP before it got deleted:

[+]

Location: Sarayashiki Junior High Roof

The Roof

---

Minato Ishida was standing on a precipice.

On the roof of the Sarayashiki Junior High School, he felt at ease. He'd come here during the day between classes, or skipping gym, in order to look down on all of his classmates from up on high. It was less lording over them and more...well, something else. It was difficult for Minato to accurately describe. When he was still an acceptable member of his student body - back when he was part of the Disciplinary Committee working for the Student Council, Minato would post up here like an eagle's nest. Now?

Now he just looked down at his turf. Standing along the barrier, leaning his head on the chain-link fence, Minato saw the progress he and the others had made in such a short time. His friendship with Ten Ton remained as strong and tight knight as ever, and his trust in people like Yonaka and Ana was only continuing to grow. If the warring factions of various delinquent games were a series of chess matches, Minato was working on establishing his pieces.

But there was growing unrest throughout the various city's. The Ikebukuro Diamonds were making stronger and stronger pushes. Not a day would pass without some punk getting their teeth knocked out in some throwdown, or other smaller gangs swearing allegiance to that psycho, Kazuma Kyoya. As they were now, the Sarayashiki Gang was not strong enough to make their claim. But in time...

Now however, there was something else pressing. The group itself has become a larger community of swelling support from within the outskirts of the school's periphery. As new as they might be, already there were members of the student body who were itching to throw their support in behind the gang. The recent mopping of various clubs throughout the school came with a groundswell of support from the lower grade students and was only steadily rising. This undoubtedly drew the attention of the Student Council - a malevolent group of corrupt students bent on keeping the school under their thumb. Their most recent tactic involved a vicious beatdown delivered to the original members of the gang. Minato tightened his fist just thinking about it. Takuya wanted to act on it right away, but Minato assured him that the right move would be to wait. But was it? Minato had grown unsure. But the gang itself, the ones with the voices...there were additional folks who were beginning to stand out to Minato and his other closest allies. His lieutenants, his closest confidants.

And that's what had brought him here, tonight.

A few hours ago, he had gotten a phonecall from Ikue. Of all the others that were in the gang, Ikue was something of a wildcard. She was an invaluable source to Minato and the others - seemingly always having her finger on the pulse of what was going on throughout the school, an information broker of gossip and secrets. And tonight, her phone-call had an edge to it unlike some of her other more playful ones. She asked Minato to gather the top members of the gang. Apparently there was something troubling her. Minato passed the message on to Ana, who dutifully did just that...

Yonaka, Akina, Yuya, Gaijin Kevin, and the newest member of the gang - Mai Li.

These were the foundations that Sarayashiki's Delinquents would be built upon.

Behind him, Minato heard the double doors to the rooftop open up. The first of the others had arrived. He looked around and saw it was -

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

@Courtaud Should we move those posts to the IC and OOC tabs, respectively?

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

Theme Song (高梨裕矢 Takanashi Yūya) Birthday: April 14th Blood Type: B —————————————————————————————————————————————————— Favorite: Food——————————Strawberry Parfait Class——————————Japanese History Club——————————Baseball ——————————————————————————————————————————————————	"Wait a minute. Is that little Rin-chan I see in tow? How you doing, kid?" "Hello, mister." "Thanks for letting her tag along, dude. I ... had to get her outta the house." "Say no more. Rin-chan, would you like a melon soda? Or an apple juice?" "Really? Is it okay?" "Whatever you want, you've got it." "Hmmmmmm ... soda, please!" "Here you go." "Thank you very much!" "Rin, just be careful, alright? I'll be right here ............ You didn't have to do that, man." "I was already at the store, so don't go pretending it was some noble thing. As for us grown-ups ... They were outta Yebisu, but Asahi is fine, right?"

"As long as it's cold, and as long as you got enough."

"Shit. Things must be pretty bad at Castle Takanashi if you're sayin' moody crap like that."

"She ain't safe in her own house right now, never mind the park at 9pm. So, yeah. You could say that."

"It ain't all bad. She's got her onii-chan to protect her."

"From the chairs and dishes flying at her head, maybe. But the words? The crap he's said to her? I dunno ... Drunk old bastard. Piece of shit. Ah, sorry for blabbing, man; I'm pissed off."

"You're allowed to be, brother. Crack one open; cool yourself down a little. Forget about that scumbag for a while."

"Kanpai ... Heh. I'm surprised Oguni-sensei hasn't confiscated that cooler from you yet."

"Ah, the other troublesome old man. He hasn't confiscated it because he still hasn't found it. Blind as an earthworm. I leave it right there, you know, under the old jūdō mats that no one uses, but he don't notice shit. Hey, how about a cigarette in exchange for the cold one? I'm all out."

"Oh, so that's how it is. Too proud to just mooch like anyone else, so you bribe me with beer first."

"Heh heh heh heh."

"Hah hah hah ... You need a light, too?"

"Nah, I got one."

"..."

"K'shuuuu, that hits the spot ..."

"..."

"... Eichii and I got a question for ya, Yūya."

"Oh, yeah? Maybe he should freakin' be here if he wants to chat. Where is that joker?"

"He still walks home with that sweet thing from Class A. I think it's finally about to get serious."

"For real? No kidding."

"I don't kid. Anyway, this question is from both of us."

"Well, that's enough suspense outta you, anyway; so what the hell is it?"

"... When are we takin' it back, man?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, Yūya; no playin' dumb. We both know you better than that."

"No, really ... Don't look at me like that."

"Then stop playin' this game. You want me to spell it out for you? Fine: Ishida, man. Ishida! He and his little groupies ambush us in our spot one time, one fucking time, and now you're gonna just let him keep it, let it all just happen without our input or approval? No, man, no-no-no-no; that ain't you. You're planning somethin', Yūya. You gotta be. And it's about time that Eiichi and I got in on it."

"Onii-chan, I'm about to jump! Look, look!"

"Yeah! Way to go, Rin! ... He's the banchō now, dude, and we're his soldiers. What you're proposing would be treason."

"So what? You don't wanna be his lackey. You don't wanna roll over and wag for him like all his little bitch-whelps. You don't."

"... You're right. I don't. But—"

"'But' what?!"

"... I've just never seen the school like this before. Things were fine before, but under Ishida-san—I dunno, dude, we've been—what's the word?—... more serious. Yeah."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"I command more soldiers as his vice-captain than I did as banchō. But you heard him at the last rally, too. Saying that once we've mopped up Sarayashiki, we're gonna expand to the—"

"Enough. Enough, before I puke! ... Hold on, I'm gonna need another beer for this ... Look, Yūya, I know you haven't been to literature class but one or two times all year, but you oughtta know what they had us reading a few weeks ago."

"This leads to a point, right?"

"Paradise Lost. You know, that poem about Lucifer. And you wanna know what Lucifer says, dontcha? He says: 'It's better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.'"

"..."

"I ain't angry or betrayed or nothin', man. Not yet. I just think you've forgotten the rules of nature around here. I dunno, maybe you've grown fat and placid on the ... the milk and honey of Ishida-yarou's new world."

"Man, I hang out with you to get away from poetry, not to catch it from your dumbass mouth."

"I'm only trying to help you, bro, so listen up for a minute. Just one. If you take nothing else away from our little pow-wow, then this is the important part."

"Onii-chan, you're not looking!"

"I'm looking right now! ...... Alright, Hiroaki. I'm listening."

"We're third-years now, brother. High school's less than a year away, and then what? Come April the three of us will be ripped apart and thrown into different schools? Forced to start over in new hallways, against new gangs and new banchō all by ourselves? We'll wait for the guys a year, two years above us to start graduating out before staking a real claim, all the while defending our little scraps? Not a chance, Yūya. Not while we're still here, together, letting another chance at our legacy slip through our fingers."

"..."

"You know, for a while there, we were the big dogs that everyone had to worry about around here. And it's not too late to become those wolves once again. Chrissake, it's only our third year! But this year is our last chance, bro. At Sarayashiki greatness; a legacy unbesmirched by that Ishida bastard and his ... upstart ideas. We could still be like 'Piston Fist' Genda, or like Momoko the Razor: legends."

"Hey, we could always play a few really good games, make it to the prefectural playoffs."

"Very funny. Come on, bro. You don't actually wanna be remembered as some nobody's lieutenant. You don't wanna wither and die under any shadow, but his least of all. You wanna remind these twerps how it felt to measure every step they took, for fear of crossing Sarayashiki's Three Kings. Don't you?"

"......................... I dunno, Hiroaki. You're right, but—"

"Fuck yeah I'm right."

"—but what if it's just the way things are supposed to be? Maybe we lost fair-and-square."

"Hey, look. C'mon, look at me. How likely is it that some skinny, long-haired faggot and his gaggle of fangirls took down the baseball club without any tricks or schemes? That they beat you because they were actually stronger than you?"

"... I guess pretty unlikely."

"And you would guess right, my friend. That's why you're thinking about this all wrong. You didn't 'lose' our turf; they stole it from you, through deception. And dishonor."

"Maybe ... Yeah, maybe."

"So that's the crux of what Eiichi and I have been wondering ... How long are we gonna let this transgression stand?"

"And when are we making it right. Rising to retake the Sarayashiki crown and become the Three Kings once more."

"So? What's your answer, 「bosu」?"

"......... I dunno. I need time to think about it. Even if it's what I want, we gotta gather allies, be sure it'll succeed this time ..."

"Hmmm. Then, I need your assurance on something else."

"... Yeah?"

"The way you're lookin' at your little girl right now; makin' sure she doesn't fall from the jungle gym, or God forbid, get approached by one of those playground perverts ... wanting to be there in a millisecond, so you can make everything better, and keep her safe. You've got a heart, Yūya, even if you wanna look like you don't. But promise me that your big friggin' heart ain't tuggin' for anyone in the gang. Promise me there's no skirt you wanna protect; no pity for the losers who'll inevitably go down with Ishida's sinking ship; nothing to stand between you and what's gotta be done."

"It ... it ain't like that, Hiroaki."

"You sure? Can you look me in the eye and make that promi—"

"It ain't like that!"

"... Alright ... Good enough. It sounds like we'll at least know your real intentions soon. Maybe after the next war-council."

"After the next war-council. Maybe."

"..."

"It's like you said: we've got until the end of the year."

"Think about it, then, if that's what you need. But if you're gonna stand up to him, know that you've got the two of us watching your back. Even if the rest of the baseball team has forgotten."

"The best in all of Sarayashiki, right?"

"................. Another beer?"

"No. I need another fucking cigarette."

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

@leyroyjenkins Please don't take the GM's rejection as some kind of judgment over your writing, either. Just because she isn't a fit for this game doesn't mean she's bad, or even uninteresting.

I'm not speaking from much of a pedigree, but to disagree with Noblebandit slightly, I believe that, at their core, interesting characters make interesting choices. The backstory merely provides context: who she is, who she thinks she is, and what the reader will expect from her at face value as a result of that. The talented writer then deviates from those expectations, both in mundane or in story-significant ways, because she's not a trope; she's a person, and people surprise each other in some incredible ways.

I hope Morrigan ends up in someone else's RP because she is (or, at least, can be) extremely interesting. What is she gonna do once a sweet, shy boy begins to fall in love with her? How is she going to try to keep him safe with the organization chasing her down, eventually trapping her in a corner? Does she protect him (violently, of course), or does she protect his idea of who she is, the fake, normal version of Morrigan who he adores?

I bet she wants to be alone because that sort of thing keeps happening to her, right? She always tries to fit in somewhere and someone, something, always screws it up; she's always forced to use violence to protect what she cherishes, or destroy what haunts her. What a shame that she can't control who she loves, or who loves her. Not without chasing him away.

And the worst part is, there's a time limit. So even if she did manage to make friends, a boyfriend, or even a surrogate family, ultimately it's a selfish decision she's made; because with the ticking hourglass which is her unstable genealogy, soon she'll be depriving all those people of a friend/girlfriend/sister/daughter. So does she "protect" even them from the heartbreak by keeping herself distant and aloof? Or does she make the ultimately selfish choice, and try to be their companion for the brief but beautiful time that she'd have with them?

Put her somewhere else, bro. She ain't much of a delinquent but she will be special to someone. To you and to the others who get to meet her in another RP.

10/10 would read a manga about Morrigan

Street Punk Serenade: Delinquent Days

<Snipped quote by pugbutter>

a date for when the game will start or what timeframe the game begins in?

I don't have a hard and fast connection to one or the other, perhaps pre-cell phones would make storytelling easier. Maybe a 90's aesthetic could be fun.

Is there anyone who has input they'd like to give in this regard?

@Courtaud

The latter is indeed what I meant. At least narrowing it down to a decade helps me choose an aesthetic (hair, motorcycle, any gang paraphernalia etc.), but it also informs me on the legal and cultural climate of the Japanese delinquent world. In the 90's and early 00's street-gangs are on the decline because, in direct response to the bosozoku of the 80s, Japan would currently be passing anti-association laws. No more assembling in groups of 15 or more, no more wearing gang colors, and so on. And when you can go to prison for doing these things, the simple fact is that fewer teenagers are gonna have the guts for it.