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Realistic or Modern ◞⇣NIGHT.OWL 「cs」

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night owl
picaresque . set roles . app-based

a roleplay revolving around youth and how they steal back legacies taken from them.

main image by champi

01
drowning in highballs i can't even drink
story
Pt0mSIy.jpg
The city of Tokyo moves to its own beat, uncaring if you can follow along. The few who hear its rhythm thrive and rise above the rest, casting deeper shadows in their wake.
In a city that drowns its people in lights, there are those who choose to remain friends of the dark.

Forty years ago, an art circle named 不夜城 (Nightless City) gained critical acclaim through a series of paintings depicting everyday scenes in Tokyo. Each piece could stand alone - but as a set, it told the story of the city's duality: how it was filled with both hope and despair, failures and dreams. Rather than display them in an art gallery, these paintings were put on display in one of the member's public art studio. It remained there for a few years until change slowly permeated through its walls.
One by one, each painting was lost. The first was sold as collateral to a gambling debt. Another passed hands into the next generation and was never seen again. At least two were lost to an internal feud, and the studio finally closed its doors, putting everything away into storage.
The value of these paintings did not go unnoticed. Within a year, the storage house was raided and everything of value was lost, including the remaining paintings of the Nightless City. Even with a feverish search and public outcry, the paintings could not be tracked down.
Eventually, memories of the paintings too, were drowned by the city.

Today, those paintings are barely a blip in the public conscious - a piece of trivia for the inquisitive, an urban legend for the artists. The old studio is now a used bookstore, opening its doors again to the public for the first time in decades. Half-assed coffee is served for cheap, and a few re-upholstered seats gather around the bar. It smells of bad coffee, musty pages, and musk of a cat. For many, it's nostalgia in a building.
It's here, while
prime
was cleaning, that they uncover their grandfather's old journal, hidden behind a hollow bottom of the shelf. Inside were notes, clippings, receipts with information haphazardly jotted down the back. All of it about the paintings people forgot - and his wish for their recognition again.
closer
sakai ryuuji
Some of
CLOSER's
earliest memories are of men coming to the door at midnight and the stress written, plain as day, on their parents' faces. They remember their father cursing their grandfather, yet succumbing to the same fate with the cards. How their mother left, weary with defeat, walking away without looking back.
Nowadays, they run a money laundering business that fronts as a laundromat. In the backrooms, their father fences stolen goods, making barely liveable dividends from the sales - most of it went to paying off the family debt.
CLOSER
resents their family, as they're unable to pursue the higher education they desire. Instead, they went to a kosen with the plan of finding work early.

CLOSER
is a frequent visitor to the used bookstore
PRIME
works at. The two businesses are along the same street.
CLOSER
has met
morte
and
dawn
in passing when they came in to do their laundry.

Character art by
era_pippi
. Played by
riddle .
.
orbit
mochizuki yua
From a young age,
orbit
was expected to excel. Unfortunately for them, they did. Whether it was academics or sports, they accomplished it all with ease. What their family sought now was something that they could be the best at. It would be laughable if
orbit
could remember that they're in their current predicament because they said they wanted to be like the olympic gymnasts being broacasted on stage. It was just something a child said, fascinated by the colorful costumes and flashy acrobatics. But their parents took them seriously and booked them the best coach they could find.
orbit
is exhausted. After failing to meet expectations for the third time in a row,
orbit
took a break from the competitive scene and assess what they want. Their parents protested, of course, but their coach had their back and reached a compromise to continue training even if they wouldn't be competing.

orbit
is cousins with
folie
. In fact, envy of
folie's
family is the reason why their parents expect so much out of
orbit
.

Character art by
storybuns
. Played by
A Murder Of Corviknight
.
prime
Mokuto Yumeji
PRIME
had always known their grandfather had been an artist, but they'd always assumed they weren't anything special. After all, they wouldn't have closed down their studio if they'd been famous, right? There would've been some mention of their greatness, but they never saw evidence of it - until they found the journal and looked into it themself.
With the help of their closest confidant, they tracked down the rest of the parties they thought should be involved in the recovery of the Nightless City's paintings. Now here's to hoping they agreed with their sentiments.

They're childhood friends with
WITCH
as they used to be neighbors and kept in contact despite the
WITCH's
retreat.

Character art by
ISUMI_136
. Played by
Bitten
.
folie
ninomiya reine
Born to a life of privilege, some might say
folie's
accomplishments would be the direct result of that. They'd be right. They've never been a hard worker - everything came easily to them. Natural charm and their affluent background opened doors that should've remained closed.
If only they knew the price to pay for a life of luxury. Oh,
folie's
hands are clean - but they can't say the same of the things they own. Though their parents made every effort to hide the nature of their work,
folie
still found out. Their heart is heavy with guilt, though they remain too cowardly to step away from wealth's safe cocoon.

Folie
is cousins with
orbit
, though they aren't fully aware of the context behind their parents' bad blood.

Character art by
NOZ
. Played by
Nano
.

witch
hino sayuri
With a prominent online persona as an entertainer, the college dropout
WITCH
would seem like an average cloutchaser, racking up views with their stupid plays and loud personality. At least, that's what they want you to believe.
In truth, they've been lauded as a wunderkind, their ability with numbers unnerving the people around them. Unfortunately, life was not kind -
WITCH
locked themselves away from the world. Though their skills as a cracker grew, it was hard to say if anything else did. It's only recently that they've taken the steps to climb out their self-created hole.

PRIME
is
witch's
closest and oldest friend. They stayed in contact even when
WITCH
became a hermit.

Character art by
いちじく
. Played by
fluticasone
.
morte
Izumi Hanako
The story of the Nightless City paintings caught
morte's
attention while researching for class. Missing paintings, estranged friends - it made for a romantic story that caught their attention.
That's all it should've been - a story. The kind they would make up of their own past, having been orphaned early and never adopted. They excelled in theater after all, earning themself a partial scholarship at the university. Their only memory of their past is a key that they keep around their neck, though
morte
has often debated if it's time to let go.

morte
became friends with
dawn
because they share a few classes.
They frequent the street where
closer's
and
prime's
workplaces are, popping in occasionally.

Character art by
jizell
. Played by
SavannahSmiles
.
dawn
Matsui Hato
There's something to be said about youth gutsy enough to head into the big city by themselves despite not knowing anything beyond their sleepy little rural town. But
dawn
has always been a go-getter, and when they were provided an opportunity to study art in Tokyo, they grabbed the chance with both hands. Never mind the fact they had no relatives there - it was where their grandmother first honed their craft, and they were determined to follow in their footsteps.
It was their grandmother who first taught them to hold a brush, and though they've passed,
dawn
insists on carrying on the tradition. They felt they owed them that much, as their grandmother raised them for much of their early childhood while their parents were working.

dawn
became friends with
morte
as they share a few classes at the university.
dawn
is a regular at
closer's
laundromat.

Character art by
CUW
. Played by
ravitto
.
The Night Owls
No first-come first-serve. All roles are applied for unless you've been previously invited by the GM.
The GM has the final say regarding any decisions made in the roleplay. Discussion is allowed, but if the GM puts their foot down on an issue, it should be respected.
There are low expectations when it comes to activity. However, if more than two months pass between posts, regardless of reason, the player will be removed.
If there are arguments between players, it should be handled privately and civilly. If the tension bleeds into the group OOC, in the event there is a back and forth, regardless of who started it, both players will be booted.
While there are no "literacy" requirements, a decent grasp of English is a must. Just follow the skirt rule and we should be fine! I don't need needlessly verbose descriptions, but one-liners don't give a lot either.
Hey there! I'm mono, your GM. This roleplay is highly inspired by Persona 5, Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne, and Magic Kaito... just less magical and more like unrealistically skilled youth. Just ride along with the suspension of disbelief and don't think too deeply about how realistic this all is - I know I won't!
That said, we'll be touching on some fairly sensitive subjects such as addiction and depression. I know these are common triggers, so I'd like to dissuade you from joining if they are yours. I expect any applicants to be able to tackle these issues with critical thinking and empathy.
As mentioned previously, this entire roleplay is app-based. There won't be any first-come-first serve business - I'll review all the apps in one go once all roles are applied for. If only one person happens to be an applicant for a role, they can still be rejected.
Our OOC will be on discord. If you don't have one, you could probably manage, it just won't be ideal. Feel free to hop on even before applying! It's the best place to go if you have any questions.
Good luck and I hope this managed to peak your interest. If not, no hard feelings, see you in the next roleplay!
 
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last first

age (00)

pro/nouns
role
Quote or lyric that you think relates to your character
name kanji
Code:
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              [div=position: absolute; width: 5px; height: 100%; left: 5%; top: 0px; background: var(--darkColor); mix-blend-mode: darken;] [/div]
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                [div=font-size: .9rem; display: inline; background: var(--darkColor); color: var(--lightColor); text-transform: uppercase; padding: 1px 5px; font-family: var(--aFont);]last first[/div][br][/br]
                [div=font-size: .9rem; display: inline; background: var(--darkColor); color: var(--lightColor); text-transform: uppercase; padding: 1px 5px; font-family: var(--aFont);]age (00)[/div][br][/br]
                [div=font-size: .9rem; display: inline; background: var(--darkColor); color: var(--lightColor); text-transform: uppercase; padding: 1px 5px; font-family: var(--aFont);]pro/nouns[/div]
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              [/div]
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          [div=flex: 1.8 300px; height: 100%; position: relative; scroll-snap-align: center; scroll-snap-stop: always; overflow: hidden;]
            [div=position: absolute; height: 100%; width: 100%; top: 0px; left: 0px; background: var(--darkColor); mix-blend-mode: darken; display: flex; flex-flow: column nowrap; align-items: flex-start; transform: translate3d(0,0,0);]
              [div=flex: 1 30%; width: 100%;] [/div]
              [div=flex: 3 70%; width: 50px; background: var(--lightColor);] [/div]
              [div=position: absolute; width: 80%; right: 5%; bottom: 5%; font-size: 4rem; text-align: right; line-height: .9; font-family: var(--aFont); color: var(--blendColor); text-transform: uppercase; pointer-events: none;]Quote or lyric that you think relates to your character[/div]
            [/div]
            [div=position: absolute; top: 10%; right: 50px; writing-mode: vertical-lr; color: var(--glowColor); font-family: 'Noto Serif JP', serif; font-size: 3rem; font-weight: bold;]name kanji[/div]
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                [div=display: block; height: 50px;][/div]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Please wrap each paragraph in this code. Here, write a combined personality and history. It doesn't have to be super detailed or long - just tell us about your character. Everyone should be around the age of 19-26 since we're looking at young adults story-wise.[/div]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Etiam arcu neque, dictum vel consequat ut, laoreet vitae lectus. Aenean aliquam diam id volutpat condimentum. Donec consequat elit quis ante fermentum efficitur. Sed commodo lectus ultricies velit sagittis, pharetra egestas nisi pharetra. Donec arcu est, molestie et nunc non, malesuada egestas nisl. Morbi et semper arcu, eu venenatis justo. Suspendisse at dignissim lectus. Pellentesque eu facilisis lacus. Integer non aliquet orci. Ut ultricies a lorem non sollicitudin. Donec porta mattis blandit. In cursus pharetra ligula, sit amet placerat nisi eleifend ac.[/div]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Vivamus a dui ut nibh condimentum lobortis. Aenean porta eros a ligula sodales, nec ullamcorper elit auctor. Donec vel aliquet dui. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Duis id tincidunt neque, vel semper ante. In placerat dui a leo posuere maximus. Phasellus in enim magna. Cras fringilla odio quam, semper laoreet ligula efficitur nec. Donec vehicula eros ut erat porta egestas. [/div][br][/br]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Use [plain][br][/br][/plain] when you want to denote a bigger break between paragraphs. Ut elementum tincidunt enim, ut fringilla orci hendrerit sit amet. Suspendisse tristique vulputate aliquam. Donec vehicula arcu vitae lobortis condimentum. Suspendisse potenti. Morbi posuere risus in ex dictum venenatis. Sed tristique ipsum sit amet turpis suscipit venenatis. Aliquam condimentum nibh risus. Pellentesque nec ultricies enim, a rhoncus enim. Sed auctor elit velit, sed vulputate ipsum tempus non. Nullam ut justo luctus, placerat mauris ac, ultricies neque. Morbi ultricies lectus in nisl fringilla, at egestas mi ultricies. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. [/div]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Mauris porta nec nisi eget pulvinar. Proin diam nisl, viverra ut aliquet a, lacinia non dolor. Integer accumsan lobortis felis eu rutrum. In eget magna nec ex placerat gravida vel efficitur felis. Fusce luctus in felis vitae viverra. Curabitur malesuada lectus vitae nulla semper, id suscipit erat commodo. Integer ac imperdiet magna. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam sed urna bibendum, tristique erat eu, pretium odio. Mauris vehicula finibus hendrerit. Vestibulum libero mauris, fringilla non sapien in, porta suscipit augue.[/div]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Curabitur eget aliquam sapien, non euismod nulla. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Curabitur dictum condimentum sem eget luctus. Maecenas quis nisl nunc. Praesent id pharetra tellus. Nam posuere congue leo quis rutrum. Maecenas vitae placerat elit. Etiam rhoncus eleifend ipsum, in elementum dui. Sed eu fermentum ante. In dapibus, dolor sit amet lacinia tincidunt, neque ipsum luctus ante, condimentum venenatis augue enim a enim. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Quisque sit amet neque turpis. Mauris congue ipsum at quam fermentum, id finibus massa consequat. [/div]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]I'm just doing stuff like this so you guys have more basis.[/div][br][/br]
                [div=display: block; margin-bottom: .5em;]Praesent mi risus, fermentum in fringilla sit amet, suscipit laoreet felis. Nulla mollis luctus luctus. Pellentesque sollicitudin tristique orci ut feugiat. Aenean vehicula vestibulum ullamcorper. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Nullam egestas nec libero at ultrices. Mauris blandit lorem et ex malesuada efficitur. Aenean nec nulla quis nulla faucibus ullamcorper. [/div]
                [div=display: block; height: 50px;][/div]
              [/div]
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          [div=flex: .25 25px; width: 7.5%] [/div]
        [/div]
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        [url=artistpage][div=display: inline-block; color: var(--lightColor);]artist name[/div][/url]
      [/div]
      [div=position: absolute; z-index: 5; top: 0px; left: 0px; height: 100%; background: var(--darkColor); color: var(--darkColor); font-family: var(--aFont); text-transform: uppercase; writing-mode: vertical-lr; font-size: .95rem; letter-spacing: .15em; box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px 8px 15% 8px; gap: 5px; display: flex; flex-flow: row nowrap; justify-content: space-evenly; align-items: center; mix-blend-mode: darken;]night owl[/div]
    [/div]
  [/nobr]
Please wrap each paragraph in this code. Here, write a combined personality and history. It doesn't have to be super detailed or long - just tell us about your character. Everyone should be around the age of 19-26 since we're looking at young adults story-wise.
Etiam arcu neque, dictum vel consequat ut, laoreet vitae lectus. Aenean aliquam diam id volutpat condimentum. Donec consequat elit quis ante fermentum efficitur. Sed commodo lectus ultricies velit sagittis, pharetra egestas nisi pharetra. Donec arcu est, molestie et nunc non, malesuada egestas nisl. Morbi et semper arcu, eu venenatis justo. Suspendisse at dignissim lectus. Pellentesque eu facilisis lacus. Integer non aliquet orci. Ut ultricies a lorem non sollicitudin. Donec porta mattis blandit. In cursus pharetra ligula, sit amet placerat nisi eleifend ac.
Vivamus a dui ut nibh condimentum lobortis. Aenean porta eros a ligula sodales, nec ullamcorper elit auctor. Donec vel aliquet dui. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Duis id tincidunt neque, vel semper ante. In placerat dui a leo posuere maximus. Phasellus in enim magna. Cras fringilla odio quam, semper laoreet ligula efficitur nec. Donec vehicula eros ut erat porta egestas.

Use [br][/br] when you want to denote a bigger break between paragraphs. Ut elementum tincidunt enim, ut fringilla orci hendrerit sit amet. Suspendisse tristique vulputate aliquam. Donec vehicula arcu vitae lobortis condimentum. Suspendisse potenti. Morbi posuere risus in ex dictum venenatis. Sed tristique ipsum sit amet turpis suscipit venenatis. Aliquam condimentum nibh risus. Pellentesque nec ultricies enim, a rhoncus enim. Sed auctor elit velit, sed vulputate ipsum tempus non. Nullam ut justo luctus, placerat mauris ac, ultricies neque. Morbi ultricies lectus in nisl fringilla, at egestas mi ultricies. In hac habitasse platea dictumst.
Mauris porta nec nisi eget pulvinar. Proin diam nisl, viverra ut aliquet a, lacinia non dolor. Integer accumsan lobortis felis eu rutrum. In eget magna nec ex placerat gravida vel efficitur felis. Fusce luctus in felis vitae viverra. Curabitur malesuada lectus vitae nulla semper, id suscipit erat commodo. Integer ac imperdiet magna. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam sed urna bibendum, tristique erat eu, pretium odio. Mauris vehicula finibus hendrerit. Vestibulum libero mauris, fringilla non sapien in, porta suscipit augue.
Curabitur eget aliquam sapien, non euismod nulla. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Curabitur dictum condimentum sem eget luctus. Maecenas quis nisl nunc. Praesent id pharetra tellus. Nam posuere congue leo quis rutrum. Maecenas vitae placerat elit. Etiam rhoncus eleifend ipsum, in elementum dui. Sed eu fermentum ante. In dapibus, dolor sit amet lacinia tincidunt, neque ipsum luctus ante, condimentum venenatis augue enim a enim. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Quisque sit amet neque turpis. Mauris congue ipsum at quam fermentum, id finibus massa consequat.
I'm just doing stuff like this so you guys have more basis.

Praesent mi risus, fermentum in fringilla sit amet, suscipit laoreet felis. Nulla mollis luctus luctus. Pellentesque sollicitudin tristique orci ut feugiat. Aenean vehicula vestibulum ullamcorper. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Nullam egestas nec libero at ultrices. Mauris blandit lorem et ex malesuada efficitur. Aenean nec nulla quis nulla faucibus ullamcorper.
night owl
 
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hino sayuri

twenty-one (21)

she/her
witch
you’re all the same – just victims of these nights
火野 小百合
If you could call anyone a wunderkind, young Sayuri certainly fit the bill. It became obvious in her early development that while she struggled with her people, her abilities with numbers and general logic were far beyond average. She was easily bored by the mundane; the increasingly difficult questions were more like a game for her inquisitive mind. If she performed well at these games, she was showered with praise and sweets. Could you want anything more as a child?
Wants weren't the same as needs, and in that regard, her parents failed her. While Sayuri may have had the intellect of someone older, emotionally and socially she was behind her peers by several years.
Sayuri so badly wanted to fit in - she just didn't know how to. She had no idea what kids her age liked, what they did in their spare time. The only person she knew was Yumeji, and at that point she only spoke to him through messages because her schedule was always filled with things. All she knew was the ever increasing demands her parents lay on their child's shoulders. It was only a matter of time until she snapped. In hindsight, it's a curse it hadn't happened sooner. Maybe it wouldn't have gotten as bad if she hadn't held on for so long.
If there had been more kindness, more compassion, maybe Sayuri could've coped. But when she failed, all people could say was "oh, she's not what I thought." A polite way of saying she wasn't acting like the genius she'd been tauted as.
Sayuri broke.
She stopped speaking to anyone and retreated into her room. She was so brutally lonely, but didn't know how to tell anyone, least of all the friend she wanted to keep up appearances to.
It's around then that she created Kiki. For a few hours everyday, she could forget her shut-in existence and just be someone who played games. When she wasn't Kiki, she filled her time with things that interested her, like cryptography and computer science, indulging the child in her. Maybe the content was more sophisticated than what the average kid would have, but it held her in the same childlike rapture.
In a way, Kiki became Sayuri's path back to the outside world. Through her, she sought help. Released from her controlling parents, she's slowly finding her footing as her own person.
Sayuri's still a child in many ways. Like a kid wearing their mother's heels, she feigns maturity and self-assuredness while she topples over her own feet. Easily provoked, yet just as easily soothed. It may seem like she's difficult to understand at first, a living bomb with an intellect that could intimidate almost anyone. But honestly? All it takes is one common interest and she's pleased to speak.
That's all she's ever wanted after all - a chance to speak. As Sayuri, the awkward logic geek, and not as Sayuri, the mouthpiece for her parents' desires.
night owl
 
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sakai ryuuji

twenty-three (23)

he/him
closer
the son and the heir of nothing in particular
坂井 龍慈
He wonders when his eyes started losing their shine. Was it when he realized people lie? Maybe when his parents no longer inspired safety but dread? When his mother left him behind? Most likely when his father turned desperate and dragged him into his problems - the family cycle of disappointing and being disappointed continued. Ryuuji stares at his reflection and doesn't see the bright blue-eyed boy he once was. Now, there's just a tired fool who talks rarely and has a propensity to smoke too much. The only vivid thing remaining is his amber hair, his last connection with his mother, and a painful reminder to his father. Ryuuji covers his piece of fire with the hat that belonged to his grandfather, taking comfort in how it hides him in its small way. It's the one good thing the old geezer left behind that was worth keeping, the rest being burdens.

Forced smiles and politeness are a second skin to combat the ugly thing underneath his mask of complete blankness, his most worn and familiar expression. Youth earned him a reputation for being overly giving, eager to help to receive favors in exchange, overlooking the sharpness in his eyes as he in turn took more from them in their ignorance. Nothing comes for free, and Ryuuji has always abided by this life rule. There can be selfishness in selflessness, and any good Ryuuji sees himself do is blocked out as he swindles another person in feigned kindness. The feeling of being a stranger to himself is constant, akin to the hunger after skipping another meal, something his adult body now suffers for - stunted and small. How awful it is, he thinks, to be a dreamer in a world where he's been kept awake and dragged through its dreary reality.

Ryuuji has kept an empty feeling ever since, and it deepened when his father's "friends" came into their home, with the way they slid him a few 100 yen with leery grins as they went back to his father, leaving him in the half-light to meet his father in the dark. Ryuuji thinks he'll never feel clean after using the meager change to buy himself the rare indulgence of chocolate to make the bitter taste he swallowed all the time go down easy with the sweetness.

What never goes away with ease is the rage that hits him suddenly, especially when cash is low and he finds his father passed out, reeking of booze again. Thoughts he aims to shudder away, closing his eyes and counting until it's over, refuse to fade out like usual, and he wonders if he should walk away for good. Or do something much worse. In the end, Ryuuji gets halfway through his violent plan before he calms himself and returns to his father, turning him over to his side and covering him with a blanket, falling into another role shoved upon him, ever the dutiful son and caretaker. "Ryuu", his father will call out in a haze. "Ryuu don't leave, forgive me." Anger morphs into care, and he stays.

The love and loyalty Ryuuji feels keep him rooted in continuing his current path of illicit activity. While he sheds one persona to the next, adopting what he needs to get his way, these traits remain, tying him back to his true self. A self that longs to create rather than destroy and take. He desires to give back and stop the cycle of taking and being taken from. But poverty has left its mark, and envy of those better off than him keeps Ryuuji steady in creating his other selves to deepen his own pockets.

Creation, freedom, and compassion are for those with security and privilege, not for those who have to fight for every coin they earn. So, for this, Ryuuji becomes a silver-tongued snake, a brilliant mind honed to keep people at a distance and see them as a means to an end on a chess board where he excels in the game of wits.

He just wonders how long he can keep lying to himself until something gives, and his desperation to be seen rivals his cruel apathy.
night owl
 
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Matsui Hato

twenty (20)

he/him
dawn
oh mother, there are lamps but there are sparks
松井 鳩
Hato’s hometown won’t be labeled on most maps, but if asked he’ll gladly point you to the spot where it would be—two hours west of Kyoto by train, right in the middle of nowhere. Of course, if you say as much, you can expect him to talk your ear off in defense of the area. Sure, the population may be dwindling, and you may have to sit on a train for the length of a feature film to get to the nearest big town, but Hato will never give up on trying to sell you on the place’s value.
It could seem ironic just how much he defends the place, because even as a child it seemed apparent that he was going to leave his hometown. He was always a lighting strike in a town of lightning bugs, never appeased by sleepy life surrounded by an aging population. Some children would grow used to it, sticking around and tending to family businesses and farms, but no one was ever under any assumption that Hato would be tamed by time.
It didn’t help that he was enamored by the big city ever since his grandmother started telling stories about her time in Tokyo. It seemed like his rare moments of patience only came when sitting by her side; He would watch her paint, hands growing shakier with each passing year, and listen to her stories with more wonder than he’d ever gotten from fairy tales. Before long he was holding a brush in his own hand as they spoke. And when the time came that he was left to paint alone, those stories still echoed in his mind, his grandmother’s voice never fully fading.
With how close he was to her, his family has expected the worst when she was gone—for him to shut down with devastation. But if anything, he only seemed more determined. If he couldn’t hear those stories from her mouth anymore, he was going to go and make more of them himself.
So Hato threw himself into his art after her death, almost in a frenzy. For two weeks, he hardly even stopped to eat or sleep; That mania faded, to everyone’s luck, but it never fully disappeared. He quietly stoked that fire with the only dedication he seemed able to show. Hato only scraped by in school, shirked responsibility for chores, wasted every moment he could manage—until it came to art. Actually, when Hato painted was probably the only time anyone could ever get him to shut up.
God, did he work his ass off for that scholarship. And god, did he work his ass off to pay for the rest of the expenses that came with living in Tokyo, everything his family couldn’t cover. God, did he work his ass off to get to know that city until it almost started to feel like home.
But none of that work undid his love of the place where he was raised; Even his attempts to hide his dialect never masked the warmth in his tone, or the friendliness that one could only manage when they weren’t city born. So if you give him the opportunity, he’ll tell you every story of home he can think of with his usual smile. He’s here to make his grandma proud, after all—for her sake, he’d never dare to say a bad word about the place.
CUW
night owl
 
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ninomiya reine

twenty-two (22)

she/her
folie
I bite them all to bits, every single scream locked up inside my throat, tasting every single grain of lies
二宮麗音
A lesson that Ninomiya Reine learned early in life was that a flower raised with love will bloom beautifully, but too much water will rot its roots. Tears gathered in her eyes when her grandmother shook her head at the wilting potted orchid, but once her passion cooled, it too became another distant memory. In the end, it was just another victim tossed aside after its novelty wore off.

Fickleness clung to Reine’s nature like a persistent parasite. Where most people needed to wait for opportunities to come to them, the young girl had the freedom to open those metaphysical doors as she pleased. She was neither weighed down by the yoke of a genius nor belittled as a talentless fool, granting her the freedom to tinker with her newfound hobbies as she pleased. Even when her various pursuits resulted in professional equipment being reduced to nothing more than a decoration, no one dared (or cared) enough to express that perhaps the child should tone down her mercurial behavior. After all, her family had nothing but money to burn. Sunk cost was hardly an afterthought if it meant showering their daughter with money in place of the love that they were too busy to give.

They say money can’t buy happiness, but no one can disagree that it brings a significant degree of comfort. Even if Reine couldn’t succeed with money alone, it wasn’t difficult for her to obtain what she desired with a few words and a smile she’d perfected by the time she’d learned what cliques were. Adults praised her as a smart and well-mannered child, while her acquaintances generally described her as a confident but good-natured individual, albeit with a bit of a wasteful streak and penchant for sarcasm. Those who dared call her shallow and arrogant were criticized as jealous naysayers with nothing better to do, and they were promptly silenced by the lack of dirt they could successfully dig up. She was privileged and perfect, a person whose ears had heard the words “I wish my life could be like yours” thousands of times. Her only response is a light chuckle. The way her heart trembles every time is a fact known only to her.

She too wonders what her life might have looked like had she been someone else. If she’d been in her cousin Yua’s shoes, would she have been a more driven individual? If she hadn’t been born to a household that tolerated her manner of tossing out hobbies like garbage, would it have prevented her from becoming someone who fumbles for some semblance of a life goal? Behind the Mochizuki couple’s kind words praising how she’d grown up into a fine young lady, it wasn’t difficult to read the thorny subtext criticizing her as a spoiled brat with no plans for her future.

Because they’re right.

However, she doesn’t dare express her concerns in fear that she’d be ridiculed. It’s presumptuous to expect answers other than “that’s such a nonissue” or “you don’t know what real anxiety is.” She isn’t allowed to be unhappy. After all, it’s a privilege to live a life like hers.

Do I deserve this life?

The question creeps about her mind like a plague, clogging up her lungs as a devil sits upon her chest every night. At times, she wished she were truly as ignorant as the Mochizukis claimed she was. Companies exploiting their employees and operating while toeing the legal line is old news. It would be naive to believe otherwise, especially for a company as successful as Ninomiya Co. despite barely being three generations old. She just hadn’t expected for her family’s wealth to be built on literal blood.

How much of her grandfather’s dementia-induced rambling should she believe? Each time he mentioned the name “Yutaka”, she feared what he’d say next.

The company’s beginnings could be described as a forked road. Their wealth was stolen in the literal sense, ripped coldly from the hands of her grandfather’s so-called friend.

“Remember, Yutaka. Remember…” he’d say, to which she’d try her best to close her ears and remind him that the person he was addressing wasn’t present.

How could the man who once cradled his grandchild lovingly on his lap scheme against his own friend? How could he sleep guiltlessly at night after years of feeding them lies that he dearly missed his friend, when he’d been the one to drive him to his death? How could he smile so carelessly when he drove a family to ruin when they should have shared in his wealth?

A righteous person might have chosen to traverse the thorny path of looking to right a wrong, but Reine instead chose to stitch her mouth shut. She tried to convince herself that any evidence would be long gone already. However, deep down, she knew that she simply couldn’t bring herself to leave her comfortable cradle of wealth. Without her parents’ money, she had nothing to her name. Unlike her older brother, she wasn’t a clever businessman. Unlike Yua, she didn’t have the determination to polish a skill to perfection.

When Reine had watered her orchid to death, her older brother had scoffed that it was a mere decoration that served no use and could simply be replaced. Their parents had scolded him harshly for his insensitive words, but nowadays she couldn’t help but agree—except this time she’s the one who’s drowning.
night owl
 
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mochizuki yua

twenty-one (21)

she/her
orbit
what kind of world will be waiting for us at the end of the galaxy
望月 結愛
The Mochizuki are an old, traditional and well off family who have their roots in pharmaceuticals. Yua, as the youngest of three and the only daughter, was not expected to follow her grandparents’ and parents’ footsteps. If Yua had shown interest in the family business, she would have been expected to join or expand on the family business. But as the youngest and the daughter she had “less” pressure.
Of course, “less” pressure to join the family business didn’t mean her parents didn’t have expectations. Her mother in particular was adamant that no child of hers was going to be NOT successful. Whether it was in academics, sports or the arts she had to be the cream of the crop. And while her grandparents were less strict on their grandchildren than their own children, they still occasionally inquired whether or not their grandchildren had anything for them to brag (humbly of course) about at family gatherings.
Which, with Yua pulling out of the competitive field of gymnastics, she had also avoided going to the big family gatherings that would definitely put her under a lot of scrutiny. Especially when some days really makes her reconsider going to therapy under her coach’s encouragement. But Yua is deathly afraid that finding out that she needs to go to therapy would be the final stressor that sends her mother to snap or end up in the hospital.

For someone who puts up a facade of calm and determined confidence, she is actually quick to fold to guilt. Even the small part of her that has grown to be resentful of her mother’s scrutinizing gaze is quick to fall to old habitual guilt. Afterall, without the hard work of her parents and grandparents, would she even have the opportunity to live a privileged life where she has options?
While Yua is relatively close with her brothers, she is unable to confide in them. Not only do they have their own families to worry about, the sensitive and anxious part of her doesn’t want to trouble them when she feels like their situations at her age were worse. In a sense, she was able to do what she “wanted” while her older brothers’ fates were determined the moment they got their first breath of air. In fact, her eldest brother’s marriage was practically an arranged marriage with only good luck blessing them with a happy and loving marriage.
So when her older brothers worriedly asked if she was alright while she was physically recovering, Yua swallowed her grievances and told them with a small smile it’s nothing that she can’t bounce back from. Even joking that maybe she could use the break to take time to attempt to make friends with their cousin Reine to do the impossible and end the family feud (which was a can of worms that her brothers paled at). However, jokes aside, she was just going to take a break from gymnastics to see what she wanted to do for the future and maybe even just relax a bit.
Which was not completely untrue. She was going to take a break from gymnastics. She was going to see what she wanted to do for the future. But as much as she wanted to believe it was true, she was unsure if her failures were truly something that she could bounce back from.

For now, she has pulled out of family gatherings and focused more on her studies. Her coach also pushed her to practice and work out more for stress relief than assuming that she might go back into the competitive field. She also pushed Yua to do more outside of her usual old routine and social group.
Unfortunately for Yua’s coach, what should have been helpful advice to a stressed young adult would lead to a different kind of adventure than what the coach would be expecting.
night owl
 
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mokuto yumeji

twenty-two (22)

he/him
PRIME
And who said It wasn't meant to be If I can't be without you Anyway
目途 夢二
What’s a dream for but just a waste of time? Better off not having one at all than to subject yourself to a yearning that might never be fulfilled in its fullest. That in itself was a lie, although if he did a good enough job at deceiving others, couldn't he do the same to himself? Yumeji knew deep down that life was more bearable holding onto something. So, in the end, he could never have truly accepted such a statement as the absolute truth. Whatever his say was in the matter though, it seemed he could never truly separate himself from his family's past.
His grandfather. The way he began to resent him as he drew closer to adulthood each year. He never understood the old man and more repulsively, the air of carelessness that hung around every interaction he had as a teenager. The countless small conversations where art was a reoccurring topic, perhaps if he was such an unsuccessful artist there was nothing else but the clinging desperation that remained. That wasn't what bothered Yumeji, rather it was the notion from his grandfather that he would take after him one way or another. Destiny. That word began to become sickening to hear and it played itself like a broken record. So even when the dead were put to rest, those sentiments were etched in his grandson's brain. Perhaps he wouldn't have been so callous when he was younger had his family been wealthier. It was something he had always blamed his grandfather for.
Yes. There was once a time where disenchantment for everything hadn't yet taken root. In fact, as a child, he had always been so self-assured, full of ambition. It was maybe because of that version of himself—that others were looking to put him in what they thought was his place. To be able to get into a prestigious private high school was something he had always been proud of. To be charismatic, smart, as well as a promising baseball player. Many looked on with envy, it didn't help that Yumeji was a bit cocky about what he had achieved from that point on. Rightfully so. When others got in through connections or their family's seemingly endless supply of money, his acceptance could have only been possible due to him taking initiative and giving his utmost effort to guarantee success. Yet, there was never a chance for him to have ever been welcomed with open arms. Throughout all his years there, he only ever had one real friend, and even she had gone to presumably greener pastures. Better than where he was at, that’s for sure. It was simply the fact that his family was "low-class" and that him getting through by merit alone was laughable when almost everyone else got through by less than traditional means.

Behind the scenes, there was something at work. It was this that led to the outcome of changing his view on his family forever but maybe it was only a matter of time. "Mokuto" "Isn't that..." "Wait a minute..."
Like a candle which flames had been blown away, Yumeji lost his fiery spirit. It devolved into one of insecurity yet simultaneously a heightened sense of false pride that served to give way to an even more antagonistic attitude. Talk of his grandfather became the center of gossip, originating from his nosy classmates. They went onto anonymous forum boards whose users went on to dig even more stuff that he himself didn't even know. It disgusted him. He thought about transferring to a different school but he resolved himself to stand his ground no matter what. Showing weakness was the first sign of accepting defeat, so he endured it for as long as he was still attending with a scornful, unfazed attitude. So came the lies that he weaved together to silence the noise.
A fabricated prospect. He was scouted and offered to be an idol trainee. Believable enough right? It was such a big statement that it did the job. Yet many gave unbelieving glares, Yumeji knew the tangled web of deception he created would never be something he'd be able to live down if he admitted it. So he began chasing what he thought were his aspirations, but gradually he found himself doing nothing save for shooting for nothing. It was fine now, if he just kept laying low like this, no one would bother to check up on him. He never wanted to live his life in the spotlight anyway.

...and that's what they wanted him to think, that he was nothing, and a descendant of a failed man. Was he going to let them have the last laugh? The coffee served in this mundane bookstore doesn't taste so bad when you think about other people's comeuppance.
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IZUMI HANAKO

twenty (20)

she/her
morte
How can I be loved when I don't like me?
泉 花子
No one knew where Hanako came from, she just showed up at the orphanage one late night. The caretakers had been in the process of putting the older kids to bed when they had heard the sound of crying coming from outside. Rushing out, they found a tiny baby swaddled in a pink blanket resting in a basket left on the step. When no one showed up to claim her, they took her in and gave her the name Hanako.
When she was younger, Hanako used to sit by the window and stare outside, perking up whenever she saw an adult coming up the walk-way, only to slump down in disappointment when she realized that whoever it was, was not there for her. As the years passed, her post by the window gradually became empty.
Having accepted that her parents would not be returning for her, Hanako turned her attention to the adults that did come, but no matter how many drawings she showed them or how excited she was that they were there, they would always give her a vague smile before leaving with one of the other children.
Was there something wrong with her? Was she not friendly enough? But even after she had practiced her smiles in the mirror, she was still left behind each and every time. And so eventually Hanako withdrew, hiding in her room whenever the adults visited. She turned to writing because in the words she scribbled on the pages of her notebook, she was happy and most importantly, she was wanted.
Hanako drifted through her school days, distant from her peers; it only took one invitation to a classmates birthday party to realize how painful it was to see their happy life with a family that wanted them and so after that Hanako would politely decline any invitation given to her.
When she eventually discovered theater, it was as if the shades of gray her world has consisted of up to that point had been replaced with a burst of color. For once in her life, she didn't have to fake her smile and it felt as if the world was finally accepting her. When she received a scholarship due to her various performances, she was hesitant to allow herself to hope that maybe her future was finally becoming one she could look forward to.
night owl
 

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