ERode

Shoujo⁴: Hatsukoi Reunion

Aighto, got maybe a third of it done, so I'll leave the rest for tomorrow.

Shoujo⁴: Hatsukoi Reunion

Apply credit card to ATM then. Iz that simple.

Junko would probably recognize that there’s unlimited rice…so she exclusively orders rice bowls or fried rice instead.

Shoujo⁴: Hatsukoi Reunion

Also, I envision this kinda of Ryuuichi energy.

Shoujo⁴: Hatsukoi Reunion

Alright, time to start hashing things out before I go into the IC proper.
@Vertigo
So, first off, with regards to Ryuu’s hijinks. Chance encounter sounds great. Maybe they both encountered each other in the mountains then? This could be when they were both fairly young, so Junko would’ve still been a dainty little girl who was doing stuff like lifting small rocks or pushing/pulling trees or stuff like that. Kinda giving the image of a kiddo replicating hardcore training. Kinda like a sealed childhood memory that is vaguely incongruous to their present selves so neither of them made the connection. That being said, maybe later down the line, Junko encountered Ryuu in a scrap with some bullies/delinquents and stepped in? That’d be the incident where she broke her nose, which she treats as a badge of honor because she definitely tossed the dude into the stratosphere immediately afterwards. And maybe there’s some form of ‘fight buddies’ connection afterwards, with Junko offering a hand whenever Ryuuichi needs backup in a scrap, and Ryuuichi never taking that hand because he’s a lone alpha wolf in his head.

@Yankee
With Takaya, yeah, I’m expecting that they’d have interactions just from an administration sorta view, yeah. I think that she’d be generally aware of him, but more owing to his relationships with others. Oh, but imagine. Imagine if his parents told him that he should strive to make better connections in high school. That he should focus on earning the favor of the Arashiyama ojou-sama rather than waste his time with the mediocres in his class. Huhuhu…

Oh, but I’m not really envisioning that they’d have played together all that much in childhood, or been aware of each other at all. At early elementary school, Junko would still have been very much a proper young lady (outside of having a big appetite), and would still have been keeping her mountain training a bit of a secret.

@Kensai
Which leaves me with Koharu. Depending on the timing, I think it’d make sense if Junko only knew the post-dead-parents Koharu. Since the diner was set in Minamikawa, and Minamikawa is the premium Aogumo-hiking destination, maybe it was the case that during late elementary school/early middle school, she was also one of the regulars there? Something like a sweaty-ass, pudgy-faced girl, sunburnt and scratched up from whatever was on that mountain, descending every afternoon to order a whole table’s worth of food for herself and just chomping industriously at it. Always paying with a black credit card, despite her relatively rough attire.

And then, when they re-encounter each other in high school, they could’ve bonded over memories of that diner, becoming closer-than-normal friends. There’s probably a sense of noblesse oblige on Junko’s part; she’s entirely willing to help Koharu with her money problems, but she also holds back on that offer, because she wants to see how far Koharu can go with her own strength. Whenever she needs it though, that credit card will be ready.

---

Also wanted to check real quick. Is this the kinda RP where we decide on pairings ahead of time and then more or less settle into them? Or is it more of a vague kinda thing, with the possibilities of love triangles and rivalries and complicated hijinks like that?

Shoujo⁴: Hatsukoi Reunion

Queen Bee Ojou-Sama Judoka

Arashiyama Junko
Arashiyama Junko

^{"An obligation? No, it has always been my duty."}

_______________________________________________ Identity Full Name - Arashiyama Junko Age - 17 Gender - Female Year - Third Personality Bold There is nothing that gives Junko pause, no confrontation she wouldn't face head-on. To her, who has always believed that the truly beautiful were those who ardently pursued their own truths, there was never a reason for her to hide her thoughts in the face of those older than her. When it came down to it, it was a simple matter: between doing nothing and doing something, it was her duty, as one so blessed, to do something. Provocative That same boldness, that same unshakeable belief of hers, leads her to being provocative, to always push the limits of not just herself, but others. Her manner of speech may be eloquent, dressed with the frills of someone who came from a rich family, but their meaning is anything but. She holds others to their claims and goals, even when they had spoken of it in jest or whimsy. She derides those who find it fitting to lie flat, wallowing in their vestigial emotions. She stands tall, a veritable mountain, and expects others to do the same. Kind And yet, despite such high expectations of others, despite her harsh words and unflinching glares, it's out of a desire to see people become their best selves. She recognizes that she is a blessed child, that she has the power to do good to those around her, so why shouldn't she grasp at others wrists and drag them up to where she is? She would never ask someone to spiral into the self-destructive thing that was 'sacrificing in order to attain results'. She would never push someone to overwork or overtrain. Rest is also part of polishing one's self. Too many people see their lives as a collection of moments. Dedicated But life is not taken in great leaps. It is taken in steady steps. Steps that would form a path. A path which would inspire others to take on their own journeys. The accumulation of effort, the forging of the body through food, exercise, and rest, over and over again. This is what allows her to keep going, allows her to stand the way she does, unashamed and undeterred. Her boldness is not a lightning bolt. It is seismic movement, shifting continents. Character Relationships Osanai Suzuka "I will always meet her challenges head-on. But it's a conundrum, isn't it? I will not slow down so that she could catch up, and yet I fear that it means certain competitions will only become more and more one-sided." Isshiki Mikako "Ohohoho, a spirited paradox, no doubt! Mature and yet sweet, eager to become the foundation for others indolence! And yet, to what end? Is this the so-called 'codependency' that I've heard others fall into? Or is Mikako a true saint, worthy of unquestioned praise?" Fuji Eikichi "I will not denigrate his efforts as those of a weak, false man, for I too have strode the path of forcing my will to reflect upon this body of mine. But if he's too afraid of losing what he has gained in order to obtain what he truly wishes? Then I will crush him." Morioka Haruto "A curious breed, this one. Would Mikako had turned out this way, if things have changed? Would he have become like Mikako, if not for his camera? Ohohoho, if he desires to be in my debt, then I will certainly secure for him a place to fully pursue his ambitions in two years time!" Shinomiya Koharu "Shallow. Insipid. Foolish. It is people like Koharu that truly unveil just how surface-level others can be, how impressions made by the exterior can so outshadow the interior. How is it that even now people see her as nothing but a loud-mouthed gyaru? Mongrels have finer tastes than them, if they cannot admire such a gem as Koharu." Chihara Takaya "A regular sort, I suppose. Stand in the crowd, and you can throw a stone in any direction and hit someone like Takaya. Hard-working, grounded down by obligations, he'll soon enough be consumed by the vertigo of freedom and either crash and burn or be forever locked-up in that box his parents put him in. Is it my place to say something? No. But it is my obligation, as one ahead of him." Sakamoto Ryuuichi "Ohohoho! Is Ryuuichi not the antithesis of the problems of modern day students? Ferocious rather than apathetic, brash yet sullen! A troublemaker of the bosozoku era! Pardon my forwardness, but I do believe he must join the Judo Club." Other Information Now in her third year, she has switched from being the undefeated ace of the Judo Club to its manager, a decision that has caused some conflict between herself and the club's advisor.

Physical Description 182 centimeters. 100 kilograms. By all metrics, Junko is huge. Not just tall, but wide, muscle and fat packed up unreservedly in a society where there were grown women half her weight. She eats well, exercises well, and sleeps well, building herself up with her own image in mind. Her hands are callused, her nails cut short. Her silver hair is fine but dull, treated with the same unblemished vigor that she treats the rest of her body. Her eyes were burnt out from her studies, thick glasses hanging from her bent, pudgy nose. Her jaw is square, decidedly mannish. Her body itself was ill-suited for the fine dresses and fanciful lace that a young lady like her was expected to wear, and a teacup looked like a toy in her grip. Perhaps to the delinquents at school, she was a pig, a bear, some ungainly, beastly thing that only attracted her followers due to gravitational pull. Perhaps if she cut half her weight, quit the judo club, and went through a 25 step nightly skincare routine, Junko would become a model-esque beauty with a foreign charm. Perhaps. But to those who know her, she is a mountain. A broad back and warm hands. A thick neck and a motherly voice. A queen without wiles, who made clear exactly what she wanted and always pursued those desires honestly and ardently. A superficial queen could never aspire to the peaks she's trodden upon. Personal Story She had always been something of a spoiled child. It had just reached her heart instead of her head. She loved her mother, a ballerina who could balance on the very tip of her toes. She loved her father, a judoka who competed not for medals but rather against his own present self, never yielding to the weight of that solitary path. They were amazing people, people so out of the ordinary that she decided that if this wasn't ordinary, she didn't want ordinary. Those grand heights. The sights that her parents had seen. All that they have accomplished, their flames burning so bright that it had undoubtedly touched so many others! ... She had always been something of a lonely child. Her father was absent by nature, drawn to his obsessions towards perfecting his art. Her mother was constantly visiting doctors and surgeons and therapists for one reason or the other, body too hurt by that gossamer brilliance to ever stand on the stage again. Her most tender memories were massaging her mother's feet when it ached too much for her mother to accompany her to the playground. Camping out in the forest with her father, even as he slipped out the tent at night to continue his exercises. Standing in the parlor room on her sixth birthday, as her father fumbled over the piano keys and her mother danced with nothing but the gestures of her hands. Fleeting moments, bundled in her small hands like sparkling rocks or pretty marbles, held tight until they chased away that loneliness. ... She had always been something of a self-assured child. Certain in the strength and possibility she held, from the dozens of love stories her mother had told her. Certain that the blood in her veins was special enough to set her apart from the rest. Certain that because of who she was born to, how perfect her environment was, there was nothing out of her reach, so long as she desired it, so long as she was willing to struggle for it. And that, because of all this, she ought to share her blessings with all others. She had caught herself in the mirror once, when she was ten years old. A short, scrawny, delicate thing, with over-sized eyes and silky, voluminous hair. Like a fairy out of a storybook, having gained more from her mother than her father. Junko could not let this stand. So long as she wished it, she could have it. So she wished to become like her father. Pure, proper, and powerful. How else could she give her parents the peace of mind that no matter what storm hits, their daughter would withstand it? How else could she give her classmates the sense that hers was a back that they could trust? How else, how else? ... And thus, she became who she is by discarding who she was. She ate what she needed to eat, packing three lunches to others one. She trained both her body and her mind in alternating cycles so one could work while the other rested. She forced her will upon her body, adding pounds of fat and muscle, guzzling down cartons of milk to build bones and gain height, seeking strength down the same path her father did. A single punch could not slay a bear, but a single throw? That was a different question. As her distance between her friends grew, so too did the number of admirers. There was a point where she had developed a truly princely form, tall and handsome, strong yet still slender. And then, she blew past that point. One hundred and eighty two centimeters. A whole solid one hundred kilograms. No makeup, no pretense. Her hair thinned, frayed. Her eyes, dulled and set to a perpetual squint without her glasses. Fingers always wrapped one way or the other. There was nothing beautiful about her. There was everything beautiful about her. For it was a self-evident truth. "Ho? You wish to be like me? Then there's only one way to do it. Eat well and live well! Nothing else can compare to the sight of one pursuing their own way of life!" ... Sweat beads off her shoulders and back. In the light of the rising sun, she shines, bejeweled in her lifelong efforts. Junko Arashiyama, Third Year. The Diamond of Aogumo.

Shoujo⁴: Hatsukoi Reunion

Backstory completed and relationship-opinion things done.

Kakakaka, truly built to be in an entirely different genre. Guess I better start thinking up actual character connections now though.

Queen Bee Ojou-Sama Judoka

Arashiyama Junko
Arashiyama Junko

^{"An obligation? No, it has always been my duty."}

_______________________________________________ Identity Full Name - Arashiyama Junko Age - 17 Gender - Female Year - Third Personality Bold There is nothing that gives Junko pause, no confrontation she wouldn't face head-on. To her, who has always believed that the truly beautiful were those who ardently pursued their own truths, there was never a reason for her to hide her thoughts in the face of those older than her. When it came down to it, it was a simple matter: between doing nothing and doing something, it was her duty, as one so blessed, to do something. Provocative That same boldness, that same unshakeable belief of hers, leads her to being provocative, to always push the limits of not just herself, but others. Her manner of speech may be eloquent, dressed with the frills of someone who came from a rich family, but their meaning is anything but. She holds others to their claims and goals, even when they had spoken of it in jest or whimsy. She derides those who find it fitting to lie flat, wallowing in their vestigial emotions. She stands tall, a veritable mountain, and expects others to do the same. Kind And yet, despite such high expectations of others, despite her harsh words and unflinching glares, it's out of a desire to see people become their best selves. She recognizes that she is a blessed child, that she has the power to do good to those around her, so why shouldn't she grasp at others wrists and drag them up to where she is? She would never ask someone to spiral into the self-destructive thing that was 'sacrificing in order to attain results'. She would never push someone to overwork or overtrain. Rest is also part of polishing one's self. Too many people see their lives as a collection of moments. Dedicated But life is not taken in great leaps. It is taken in steady steps. Steps that would form a path. A path which would inspire others to take on their own journeys. The accumulation of effort, the forging of the body through food, exercise, and rest, over and over again. This is what allows her to keep going, allows her to stand the way she does, unashamed and undeterred. Her boldness is not a lightning bolt. It is seismic movement, shifting continents. Character Relationships Osanai Suzuka "I will always meet her challenges head-on. But it's a conundrum, isn't it? I will not slow down so that she could catch up, and yet I fear that it means certain competitions will only become more and more one-sided." Isshiki Mikako "Ohohoho, a spirited paradox, no doubt! Mature and yet sweet, eager to become the foundation for others indolence! And yet, to what end? Is this the so-called 'codependency' that I've heard others fall into? Or is Mikako a true saint, worthy of unquestioned praise?" Fuji Eikichi "I will not denigrate his efforts as those of a weak, false man, for I too have strode the path of forcing my will to reflect upon this body of mine. But if he's too afraid of losing what he has gained in order to obtain what he truly wishes? Then I will crush him." Morioka Haruto "A curious breed, this one. Would Mikako had turned out this way, if things have changed? Would he have become like Mikako, if not for his camera? Ohohoho, if he desires to be in my debt, then I will certainly secure for him a place to fully pursue his ambitions in two years time!" Shinomiya Koharu "Shallow. Insipid. Foolish. It is people like Koharu that truly unveil just how surface-level others can be, how impressions made by the exterior can so outshadow the interior. How is it that even now people see her as nothing but a loud-mouthed gyaru? Mongrels have finer tastes than them, if they cannot admire such a gem as Koharu." Chihara Takaya "A regular sort, I suppose. Stand in the crowd, and you can throw a stone in any direction and hit someone like Takaya. Hard-working, grounded down by obligations, he'll soon enough be consumed by the vertigo of freedom and either crash and burn or be forever locked-up in that box his parents put him in. Is it my place to say something? No. But it is my obligation, as one ahead of him." Sakamoto Ryuuichi "Ohohoho! Is Ryuuichi not the antithesis of the problems of modern day students? Ferocious rather than apathetic, brash yet sullen! A troublemaker of the bosozoku era! Pardon my forwardness, but I do believe he must join the Judo Club." Other Information Now in her third year, she has switched from being the undefeated ace of the Judo Club to its manager, a decision that has caused some conflict between herself and the club's advisor.

Physical Description 182 centimeters. 100 kilograms. By all metrics, Junko is huge. Not just tall, but wide, muscle and fat packed up unreservedly in a society where there were grown women half her weight. She eats well, exercises well, and sleeps well, building herself up with her own image in mind. Her hands are callused, her nails cut short. Her silver hair is fine but dull, treated with the same unblemished vigor that she treats the rest of her body. Her eyes were burnt out from her studies, thick glasses hanging from her bent, pudgy nose. Her jaw is square, decidedly mannish. Her body itself was ill-suited for the fine dresses and fanciful lace that a young lady like her was expected to wear, and a teacup looked like a toy in her grip. Perhaps to the delinquents at school, she was a pig, a bear, some ungainly, beastly thing that only attracted her followers due to gravitational pull. Perhaps if she cut half her weight, quit the judo club, and went through a 25 step nightly skincare routine, Junko would become a model-esque beauty with a foreign charm. Perhaps. But to those who know her, she is a mountain. A broad back and warm hands. A thick neck and a motherly voice. A queen without wiles, who made clear exactly what she wanted and always pursued those desires honestly and ardently. A superficial queen could never aspire to the peaks she's trodden upon. Personal Story She had always been something of a spoiled child. It had just reached her heart instead of her head. She loved her mother, a ballerina who could balance on the very tip of her toes. She loved her father, a judoka who competed not for medals but rather against his own present self, never yielding to the weight of that solitary path. They were amazing people, people so out of the ordinary that she decided that if this wasn't ordinary, she didn't want ordinary. Those grand heights. The sights that her parents had seen. All that they have accomplished, their flames burning so bright that it had undoubtedly touched so many others! ... She had always been something of a lonely child. Her father was absent by nature, drawn to his obsessions towards perfecting his art. Her mother was constantly visiting doctors and surgeons and therapists for one reason or the other, body too hurt by that gossamer brilliance to ever stand on the stage again. Her most tender memories were massaging her mother's feet when it ached too much for her mother to accompany her to the playground. Camping out in the forest with her father, even as he slipped out the tent at night to continue his exercises. Standing in the parlor room on her sixth birthday, as her father fumbled over the piano keys and her mother danced with nothing but the gestures of her hands. Fleeting moments, bundled in her small hands like sparkling rocks or pretty marbles, held tight until they chased away that loneliness. ... She had always been something of a self-assured child. Certain in the strength and possibility she held, from the dozens of love stories her mother had told her. Certain that the blood in her veins was special enough to set her apart from the rest. Certain that because of who she was born to, how perfect her environment was, there was nothing out of her reach, so long as she desired it, so long as she was willing to struggle for it. And that, because of all this, she ought to share her blessings with all others. She had caught herself in the mirror once, when she was ten years old. A short, scrawny, delicate thing, with over-sized eyes and silky, voluminous hair. Like a fairy out of a storybook, having gained more from her mother than her father. Junko could not let this stand. So long as she wished it, she could have it. So she wished to become like her father. Pure, proper, and powerful. How else could she give her parents the peace of mind that no matter what storm hits, their daughter would withstand it? How else could she give her classmates the sense that hers was a back that they could trust? How else, how else? ... And thus, she became who she is by discarding who she was. She ate what she needed to eat, packing three lunches to others one. She trained both her body and her mind in alternating cycles so one could work while the other rested. She forced her will upon her body, adding pounds of fat and muscle, guzzling down cartons of milk to build bones and gain height, seeking strength down the same path her father did. A single punch could not slay a bear, but a single throw? That was a different question. As her distance between her friends grew, so too did the number of admirers. There was a point where she had developed a truly princely form, tall and handsome, strong yet still slender. And then, she blew past that point. One hundred and eighty two centimeters. A whole solid one hundred kilograms. No makeup, no pretense. Her hair thinned, frayed. Her eyes, dulled and set to a perpetual squint without her glasses. Fingers always wrapped one way or the other. There was nothing beautiful about her. There was everything beautiful about her. For it was a self-evident truth. "Ho? You wish to be like me? Then there's only one way to do it. Eat well and live well! Nothing else can compare to the sight of one pursuing their own way of life!" ... Sweat beads off her shoulders and back. In the light of the rising sun, she shines, bejeweled in her lifelong efforts. Junko Arashiyama, Third Year. The Diamond of Aogumo.

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

“Of course. Some things may never happen again, after all.”

And with that, Lorelei turned her attention back to the task at hand. While Barbatos and Dezzie were both decked out in alt-rock punk that was undercut with some softer, cute elements, Lorelei chose juxtaposition herself, strutting alongside them in a luxuriously white dress that hugged her curves, while a faux-fur coat was draped over her shoulders, breaking up that otherwise lethal silhouette. The thigh holster was brazenly displayed along the slit of her dress, while the wide-brimmed sun hat that hid one eye simply added to the deadly allure, the mystery of not knowing when exactly she’d hang you upside down and lower you into a cement mixer.

There were times where Lorelei liked to play along, and times where she’d indulge in her own whims. In this case, of course? Well, it was the Floating District, and no matter how much of a fraction her income was when compared to the higher-earners of the hostess clubs and strip bars, she certainly couldn’t let herself be shown up, no?

“No reason to split up somewhere like this, after all,” Lorelei spoke, casting a knowing glance towards Dezzie. “Wouldn’t want Barbatos to go get snatched up, would we?”

With that, she strutted off, knowing exactly where to begin their investigations into the root of the Saniwa’s demise.

…

7th Haven occupied the liminal space between true luxury and common decadence. A mid-tier establishment by design rather than by the lack of business acumen, it grasped upon the classiness of a parlor meant for businessmen to relax amongst women more beautiful than their wives, while still being able to kick up the raunchiness during themed nights or the hours past the witching hour. Incandescent lights lent their warmth to velvet and brass and at this time of day, though the gleaming poles weren’t accompanied by dancers, an androgynous pianist sat before their grand instrument still, playing a melody at once nostalgic and foreign to the admiration of the layabouts who could afford to drink during the day.

It was in contrast with the garish neon and explosive sex appeal of lower-level establishments, for certain.

It was also certainly an intentional choice by Lorelei. She smiled towards the chiselled specimen of a slime-demon behind the bar’s counter, then lead her companions up to the second floor lounge area, which overlooked the first floor. It was empty enough, outside of a few shady-looking fellows making perfectly-legal business transactions. Her fingertips brushed over the petals of a dandelion, a flower that featured prominently in 7th Haven due to its owner’s tastes, before Lorelei sat down.

“I’ve a friend here,” she said. “Make yourselves at ease; it might be a bit.”

A touch of thought.

“Ah, the wifi password is ‘gigavaporeonfluids’. All capitals, with the first ‘I’ being a 1.”

⇜ Deicide ⇝ [Dark Fantasy Isekai]

Perhaps there was something to be concerned, when one of the spear-wielding soldiers revealed themselves to be clearly inhuman, at least on the outside. On the inside though? The fact that none were immediately skewered on the spot as a ‘proper’ show of strength was enough for the flame-headed one to take it easy. To pay some attention, briefly, to something that was more important to him.

Despite the dry, seething heat all around him, his right hand felt cool. The hand he used to uproot the spears and seal them into his space was now something that didn’t seem to be drawing any heat at all. Surreptitiously, he rolled his fingers, tested his dexterity, confirmed that everything, beyond ‘temperature’ remained in good condition, and nodded.

There were worse things that could happen than a cool hand. Especially when his fellow spear-stealer sported an arm that was a whole lot whackier.

“Well!” He nodded as if it weren’t his problem at all. “That’s pretty fucking wild. And Witch-Lady, I’d be happy to answer those questions of yours, if you made it worth my while to.” The flame flickered briefly, almost as if the pale radiance itself was ‘winking’ at her before he sauntered over to the scale-armed girl. Perhaps the prune-ass shaman had a point. Perhaps any moment now, his head was going to turn into scales and shit. Something something, dead, something something gotta respect them.

“So, girlie.” He hunched his back, getting more on eye-level with the slightly-panicking, slightly-level-headed, definitely-confused brunette. His head tilted to the side, enough to further expose the opaque flames. “I know it’s gonna sound a bit crazy, but how ‘bout you stick your whole scaly arm into this ol’ head of mine and, oh, I don’t know, close your hand after its inside? Best do it quick though. Who knows what’d happen next?”

Iris Ascendis

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark}

Alto seemed to be the careful sort. Even Rio didn't seem so eager about the prospect of actually fighting without even the most basic amount of essence to empower or shield him. Chloe, thankfully, was making her way back to the door. Was Iraleth fully-armored and with a sword? She didn't draw it and didn't rush out the carriage, that was for sure. And there was no way at all that they were going to let Ciara out during this.

Well, honestly, if Alto was as powerful as he presented himself to be, the Instructor shouldn't have any problem mopping up a bunch of brigands and bandits. There was no reason for Otis to step in, except for one.

Rekordia.

Even now, they thought that those that developed Ethos would serve as better fuel for the Gearveins, huh? Naught more than a group of idiotic number-crunchers, chasing delusion, and craven slavers, chasing gold.

Amber eyes narrowed through the carriage windows, and without hesitation, Otis shot first, unloading six shots upon the brigands on one side.