SHOWTIME ⦁ open w/closed prompts.

[deathrespect]

Who: Samatoki Aohitsugi deathrespect & co.! Open with closed prompts.
What: Event things.
When: 9.8 and on throughout the month.
Where: Prompts will have locations.

Content Warnings: Event-typical warnings. Missing person trauma. Slight self-harm + PTSD flashbacks. Bad management of breakdowns.

001 ⦁ GROWING PAINS | cassandra district | open.

( Not long after the 8th Samatoki can be seen outside of his home in Cassandra, looking over a small slip of paper with burnt edges. It says "have a nice trip!" and is written in blood-ink.

He has his mask fixed on his face as he buries the slip of paper after folding it into a neat square. Once his claw is drawn across his palm, pale blood spilling onto the soil below, a red spider lily blooms and stretches towards the sky.

There's a hidden smile from behind the mask when the flower doesn't change its bright color. NO rotting, no wilting. He knows, then, that the Blood Minister path is the right one for him.

He turns to see someone a little ways off; not removing his mask, he stands. )

What's good, boss?

002 ⦁ POST-GROWING PAINS | cassandra district | closed to orpheus.

( Heading towards Lumenwood is Samatoki; he's been location-scouting lately for an idea he has ... There's a craning of his head and a stop in his tracks when he sees someone with a guitar, heading down the street.

Makes him think of doing music again ... Even if his music was typically heavy beats, rhyme and flow. )

Ah, hey. You good with that thing?

( He calls, pulling his mask down and fixing it to his belt. Not weird at all. )

003 ⦁ RIVER OF REGRET | ???? | closed to atsushi.

( Ah, fuck. )

The fuck is this?!

( The day is idyllic and pretty, sunlight and trees and a peaceful river. The only other one in the boat is Atsushi, that kid he'd talked to the other day ... )

You got any clue?

004 ⦁ POST-RIVER OF REGRET | lumenwood district | open | self harm + PTSD flashbacks warning.

( His claws itch and flex; it feels like there's something under his skin that keeps him moving, laced with pure anger and anguish. He chainsmokes. He walks.

This isn't Hakagemachi, where his walking had more of a purpose, where he knew what to really bury himself in. Right here and now, in Trench, everything feels fucking pointless. He stops along a fence, leaning on it, breath shaky and uncertain but deep all the same.

Visions of his sister, mangled with her middle pecked out by hungry birds ... He clenches his fist and punches through the fence on reflex.

Then he beats his fist against the top of it, splinters of wood embedding themselves in his skin. )

Stop ... Stop ...

( His breathing is labored; the opposite hand is digging furrows down his face. )

Fuck ... Nemu ... Nemu, please ...

( Anyone happening across him now might recognize he's having flashbacks, eyes turned unseeing to the space in front of him ... )

005 ⦁ BLOODSPORT | prufrock district | open.

( Oh, this is certainly a way to let it out.

He's all too quick to put on his mask again, a comfort of sorts, and tear into monster after monster.

After felling his third on his own, he's not had enough. )

Gimme another. Fuck, gimme two. Things are fucking weak!

006 ⦁ WILDCARD.

( want a starter or something else? hit me up @ vandalisto if you would like to plot/discuss! )