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This app tells you your personality by looking at your Tumblr account. You should really check it out. This is my result: INFJ PERSONALITY The INFJ personality type is very rare, making up less than one percent of the population, but they nonetheless leave their mark on the world. As Diplomats (NF), they have an […]
If you ever want to drop one of our threads, the easiest way to do so is to just not reply. Unless we’re actively talking about it, I probably won’t pester you, so it’ll be nice and simple and, haha, don’t worry, my feelings won’t be hurt.
If you want a new/different thread, please just let me know! I love writing/starting new threads, especially with pre-plotting, so come at me, bro!
…also if it’s been a while since I replied, I either have it drafted or I missed it, so please ask if you’re curious and I’ll let you know the status!
When you RP with people and their posts are like fucking Shakespeare and yours are basically I CAN COUNT TO POTATO
“Oh come on, now. In terms of collaborative writing, we’re all within the realm of potatoes, as each thread is only as the average of the partnership. Besides, it’s not as though Shakespeare was any good, anyway…
"If anything, a ‘potato person’ comparing someone else to Shakespeare is very likely an insult at best. As if to say, ‘you’re good only because you’re famous, not because I understand any part of what you were trying to do. I also don’t know enough about writing to realize that your satire is brilliant despite the overly pretentious and flowery purple prose. I believe that you have skill not because I’m able to recognize said skill, but because I have been informed by popular media that such a skill exists, thusly invalidating my compliment to begin with.’
"So you see, my fellow writers, do not be afraid to be a sparse and straight forward potato-counting journalist, and do not fear that your roleplaying partner is somehow more ‘quality’ than you simply because they have more followers, write longer posts, or confuse you with their literary nonsense that falls flat but seems impressive because of fancy window-dressing…
"The point of the matter is, poorly defined sonnets of pointless tragedy is not necessarily something we should be striving for… in essence, I would rather have the potato, which is far easier to stomach in any sense of the word.”
“No need. I’ve already paid for the both of us and the cab has been taken care of as well.” He stated and finished off his water. Collecting his bag and the food he glanced outside and watched the cab pull up.
“Jon’s early.” He murmured and glanced down at his watch. Looking down to Twig then back up the Hakuba he asked them both. “Ready to go?”
By the time the attention had returned to him, Hakuba managed to get himself into some sort of presentable condition. He didn’t want to lean on his cane any more than necessary, even with the tension in his back. Yes, Kudou knew that he’d been injured, and it was obvious to anyone with any sort of basic observational skills, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to go out of his way to appear weak.
He spared a glance down at Twig, who wagged her tail, looking right back, then gave a nod. “Yes, I believe so.” Despite saying thus, Hakuba reached back into the booth to retrieve his bag, which he shouldered as a sort of counter-balance to the cane, and started toward the door.
The limp wasn’t so bad, really, now that he’d had a chance to rest, but his gait was stiff, anyway. Still, determined to be as brave as he could muster, he bore that smile again and walked, anyway. “Thank you for the tea, Kudou-san… it was just what I needed."
It was far easier to play the adorable, helpful child around those he hadn’t spent a lot of time around, or those that didn’t know his true identity. While Hakuba seemed capable on his own, he hoped that he wouldn’t become another that figured his secret.
”What’s the dog’s name, and how’d it get out?” Conan wanted to asked what it was the owner wanted from the canine’s collar, but would wiggle his way into that question later.
“Her name is Mikki, and the current theory is that she somehow got out of my client’s car while it was parked at an office building, just two miles from here…” Hakuba glanced in the direction of the building – north east – then back down to Conan with a sort of helpless frown.
“They think she just got out through the window, but I wonder if, perhaps, someone broke in to let her out. There were little scratches on the door next to the window, and it’s so terribly easy to break into those older cars. Here, I’ll show you a photo."
The taller detective pulled out his phone to scroll through the evidence that he’d captured earlier that morning, and held it out to him. Sure enough, the black car had tiny scratches in the paint, indicative of a metal object and several false starts to get between the door and the pane of glass.
"I have to admit that I’m more than a little upset at my client for leaving their dog in their parked car, but I suppose that can’t be helped now…"
Kaito softened while watching him slip the necklace on. “I’m glad you like it.”
He felt like a stupid giddy schoolgirl. Absolutely pleased with his handy work. It took him only three hour search for the right stone, a simple unannounced heist for the aquamarine disk, and six hours to link the chain together and three more to fit the topaz pieces around the disk.
“I’m only sorry that I don’t really have anything to give you in return,” Hakuba returned with a wince, voicing the thoughts he’d meant to keep to himself. Following the trend, he continued while adjusting his collar. “Dare I ask where it came from?"
At least he managed a playful little smile along with it, tilting his head as he looked back at the young man that he knew, without a doubt, was a thief. That fact did nothing to deter from the sweet expression he gave, though, brown eyes warm and full of feeling as he looked at him with an almost embarrassing amount of vulnerability.
”…or is it better left a mystery?“
Everything hurt.
She came to with a start, with a gasp, with a near-silent cry of pain and an even quieter mental cry-
[Emi.]
Her world spun. The walls, were they white or black or somewhere in between. Was someone there? She felt – or she thought she felt – a warmth, a heartbeat of someone close by, her left side in fact, and what was jammed down her throat? Akira choked on the breathing tube and heard the erratic beeping of the heart monitor as she struggled. The person beside her stirred, and Akira recoiled at the garish white and black smeared into grey and the black pits for eyes, a red slash for a mouth.
Akira screamed.
All of the time spent waiting, hyper-focused on every factor of his friend’s vital statistics, had lulled the detective into a false sense of the passage of time. Even the cases that Hakuba brought with him did little to hold his attention for any particular length of time, most of his presence dedicated to counting between each heartbeat, each revolution of the machinery in the room. It had become a sort of comforting despair.
The scream, of course, disrupted that ever so thoroughly.
Hakuba fell off of the chair that he’d been sitting in, papers scattering to the floor in a flurry of white and manilla, then scrambled to pick himself up. Any residual pain from his injuries was nothing to the pounding of his heart or the panic that flared up like scalding steam.
“A-AH! Akira-kun!” he cried, eyes wide. “Ah- ah, j-just hold on, hold on, let me… let me get the…” The detective threw himself to the call button, hitting it a bit harder than necessary, and turned back to the girl in the bed. “Th-they’re coming! They’re coming! It’ll be all right!"
He didn’t want her to choke, but strictly speaking, he wasn’t really permitted to remove the breathing apparatus on his own. Still, could he stand there and do nothing? Hesitantly, he edged closer to try to put a hand on her shoulder, frantic.
She had learned awhile back that many people found it easier to communicate if they were performing some distracting task with their hands. It was sort of a comforting gesture in a way. She thought it was cute that Hakuba would resort to such a quirk in his nervous state. His anxiety was almost tangible, in fact, thick and heavy in the air as if drawing the breath out of him and making him silent.
When he finally found the words to speak they were hurried and messy as if he had choked on them on the way out. What kind of question was that anyway? She raised an eyebrow at him and continued scribbling away at her work.
“Just fine. Thank you so much for asking. I have found that simply getting it over with is the best method for completing school work.” If he was going to ask such shallow questions then she was determined to provide him with equally shallow responses.
Eventually one of them would grow tired of it.
“That’s a fair strategy, yes… it seems to work quite well."
Would things ever stop being so awkward between them? Or between himself and, really, any number of people? Hakuba glanced over to her, feeling a sort of twinge in pain at the degrees of separation that they now had. He pursed his lips, considering.
"Koizumi-sa… Koizumi,” he sighed, turning his head away in defeat. He was tired of it, and as much as he longed to cling to his resolve, it was far too difficult to keep up the pretense of indifference with someone he still had feelings for. Not that he could admit that to anyone but himself, but he knew it at his core. It was pointless to try to say otherwise.
“What are we going to do?” He left the question open, vague, hoping that she could supply the meaning that he was attempting, and failing, to convey.
“Oi-stop!” A young man about 17 called out, he was chasing after Hakuba waving his arm side to side trying to get his attention.
“Ah…” The detective glanced up and over, recognition flickering in his eyes. He didn’t know if the approaching person had anything to do with the package or the test in general, but it didn’t sit well with him. Even so, clutching the mysterious danger to his chest, he made his way through traffic with a quicker step to meet the other teen with an expression of panic.
“Yes, and who, exactly, are you?” he asked once they were safely on the sidewalk again.
