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[conspecifics]

@dogboy*

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open season.

OPEN SEASON

@dogboy
24 / m / straight / 2♠️*

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

His name is Kirma and he’s illiterate. I’m helping him fill this out, but honestly speaking, it’s a complete waste. Besides that, don’t you think his rank is unfairly high? Even though it’s still in the single digits, it’s not as if he wouldn’t be at home in the basement levels. If someone could send my complaints along to the house, I’d appreciate it.

My Future Plans

Surviving?

My Talents

Chasing sticks. Eating absurd quantities of garbage. Fouling up perfectly nice beds. Trampling flowers.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Meat.

My Ideal Partner

Someone skilled at training dogs.

Height 169cm / ~5’7 Body Type fine Smokes apparently Drinks i think so Drugs maybe Sign ? Education laughable Occupation unemployed Income unpaid Children none? Pets he is one Hobbies cooking

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

“WHAT'S A MIME”

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

NEITHER

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE

.05 TITS OR ASS

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

Personality Type
ISFP-A

ENERGY

73%

introverted

MIND

76%

observant

NATURE

66%

feeling

TACTICS

54%

prospecting

IDENTITY

75%

assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

[erbe]

No, not at all. Just don't be too limp — it makes it harder to carry people.

[As more magical energy floods her circuits, blue patterns on her limbs begin to glow. Rin approaches Kirma, and stretches out one hand to press to his chest or shoulder (which ever is easier at their height difference). The intent is to guide him back against the nearest wall. Hopefully to be able to use it as a stabilizing prop for when she folds him. Gently.

Gently-ish. But they need to reach that wall first.]

[relater]

[ daddy's little yarfchamp is NOT having a good time

By which I mean Kizuna is in the arcade for Clubs girl's night out, even if at first blush he's nowhere to be found. This girl's night had gone horribly in every way imaginable — how was Kizuna supposed to know that his heckling and dragging people in to the fray would result in rivalries over crane games and ski-ball that would transcend sanity? He sowed. And now he's reaping, scuttling out from the bathroom looking pale and sweaty. Did he throw up again? Unclear.

But he sensed his dog in shining armor, so here he is, pathetically slinking towards him in the chaos of the arcade, unable to sense anything amiss. ]

There you are — [ reach 🥺 ] I want to go.

[conspecifics]

( blue is at least a color kirma can easily identify. the light catches his attention visibly and immediately, his ears standing straight up as his eyes trail along the patterns illuminated under her skin. he’ll give rin this much— if he was going to try and guess what magic is supposed to do, it’d appear much like this, in his mind.

the push isn’t quite so intuitive to follow, in comparison. not that there’s any resistance; his steps backward are obedient, and though her hand is likely closer to his shoulder than his heart, the nervous staccato of his pulse still thrums under her fingers. a contest of physical strength is not something he’s often found himself on the losing end of. the novelty of it was a fun enough idea, but being face to face with what that would actually look like… is a little more unnerving.

but. his back hits plaster and his ears twist back, as if it were an unexpected turn of events. )

— I’d think sweeping would be harder with a wall in the way.

( he’s no expert, though. )

[erbe]

You take things a bit too literally.

[Her stance shifts, and her knees bend. Rin's arms hook around his legs, curling behind Kirma's thighs, and with a swift upward movement she pulls him up into her hold. A few things happen at once: his weight is lifted and he's tilted so his shoulder blades against the wall are used as a point of propping him up, Kirma's legs are held at Rin's waist, and Rin herself smiles as if all this motion and weight means nothing to her.

Then, shortly after, she shifts her hold on one of his legs to start bending the knee up to his chest. No longer gripping his thighs like logs, but instead cupping her hand to the back of his knee and pressing him to the wall like a recently saved damsel in the steamy portion of a romance novel.]

[waged]

( that's a siren's call, but not one aventurine, blinded by desire and the fervent instinct of predator, can really fight against. he licks his lips in response, as though the feast before him is one he will eat to the brim. the idea is too tempting, like a box full of surprises. it takes every inch of self-control not to jump him there, and have his way with him.

no. he has time aplenty. kirma had invited him here, wanted him to be here, and maybe, luckily, as aventurine always is, he'll be the first to him. despite his body's first opposition to even touching another canine of far less worth, the idea that he could actually become a delicious bunny is too much.

so, and with all the awkwardness that comes with moving in their position, he attempts to roll kirma to the side, if only to give him room to bring a hand to the base of that fluffy tail, one aventurine has always wondered how sensitive it is. part of him wants to yank it off of him, that maybe there would be a cute, fluffy bunny tail right underneath. though his fingers grip around it, they do not pull.

with the worn-out experience of a man who has done this one too many times, aventurine undoes his belt and pants with a swift hand, pulling himself out. everything else happens with little ceremony - one of kirma's legs, that he throws over his shoulder, the way he aligns himself neatly and enters with unsurprising ease. kirma had done a good job, and aventurine's way swishes contently in response. )

When you turn into a cute bunny, ( when, not if, and aventurine kisses kirma's calf between words, not moving quite yet, ) don't let anyone else have their way with you, okay?

[conspecifics]

( it’s a reach answered poorly; rather than take kizuna’s hand gently or lace fingers, kirma grabs him by the wrist, a grip just tight enough for the pressure to turn uncomfortable. the violence seething within him is tempered by the satisfaction of an earlier outburst, in an earlier place, but it’s far from subsided. such is the punishment of the house. )

This place seems—

( ridiculous. hideous. normally, he wouldn’t be so judgemental. the entire resort is gaudy, loud, and over-the-top, so it’s natural that the arcade would be no different in that respect. kizuna is hardly at fault that, nor is he to blame for his overwhelm— well. sometimes, he isn’t. right now… with tremendous struggle, kirma bites down on whatever scathing remark he had for their surroundings, focusing instead of dragging kizuna out of the space. literally, if he must. )

Ghosts, or people? ( just so he knows. )

[relater]

[ Ironic, that his grip is just a hair shy of painful and yet the connection it forges blanches his heart of all the other forces impressed on it. Kizuna's fingers twitch and then go lax as he's hauled through the rows of blinking and blaring machines. Like this, he's an easy passenger: all wiggles, no bones. He answers and it's dim with wonder and a little dread, like the silence of a forest in the presence of a predator. ]

...ah — people. It's people... no ghosts this time.

[ He's trying to feel what he can but it's useless in a place like this, nerves already shot. Only ambient violence remains. ]

Kirma, are you...?

[ like, okay?? ]

[conspecifics]

How else am I supposed to take—

( — them. the retort is cut off by the sudden loss of connection with the ground, and kirma’s ears fly up in clear shock at being lifted. it’s a bit silly, perhaps. the move had hardly come out of nowhere, but there is a difference between expectation and action, a gap that he hadn’t quite bridged.

surprise aside, he does remember the instructions and doesn’t go limp. it’s possible that he’s overcorrecting a little too far in the opposite direction, though. his body tenses, and as rin progresses in the foldening, it only gets worse, shoulders unconsciously rising from coiling muscle. he isn’t trying to fight against it, and thus it doesn’t amount to much resistance at all. it’s just a clear measure of discomfort, of some kind or another. )

I think, I get the idea?

( which kind it is might be a little more obvious now, with the unintentional lift in his voice that so perfectly mirrors the position they’re in. flustered, he can no longer make eye contact with her smile; one hand comes up to cover his mouth, as if that helps any. it’s… probably a little late to hope this doesn’t awaken anything in him, huh. )

You can— you can put me down. ( pwease )

[conspecifics]

Am I what, ( comes the snap, clouded with a venom not normally found anywhere near kirma’s vicinity, let alone welling up from within him, specifically. it’s clearly a no, even if the question hasn’t been fully spoken. kirma doesn’t so much as spare him a glance, as they march out of the arcade, steps heavy with the weight of desires unfulfilled. it hasn’t been a complete strikeout of a night, but once the blood was rinsed from his fingers, so too did any satisfaction whirl with it down the drain. and then—

here they are. the halls, quieter, the tinny noises of games and enticements still audible. kirma releases kizuna’s wrist, takes a step onwards without him, and then finally pivots to hold out a slightly less antagonistic paw. a concession he forces himself to make as he tries to choke down the seething currents deep within him, the tension of the struggle filling his body out to the fingertips. )

And what was wrong with the people?

( a bit of small talk will suppress the misplaced urge to savage kizuna like a feral animal, surely. )

1/2. this is a real tag but brb

[relater]

[ WEHHH WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO HIS DOG ]

2/2. ok im back

[relater]

[ It's a lash of tongue that makes Kizuna flinch and immediately push past the saturation threshold of his senses. He's seeking an outline, an origin point, the disembodied well from which these feelings are being tapped. Whatever's being dredged up... it pours over him, thick and bitter and stinging.

Slowly, Kizuna reaches out for the forbidden beans, less daunted by the threat of violence than he should be. So it goes. ]

It was the Clubs gathering. Turns out, a bunch of the same suit together means it's a lot harder to regulate certain things...

[ His other hand joins the first, sandwiching said paw gratefully through his strain. ]

Where were you?

[conspecifics]

( what are you, his wife



oh right. professionally, yes. )

Hearts.

( a single word that speaks volumes; a suit, but not his own. there might be a connection there, there might not. this is the first time he’s tried to flaunt the casino’s decree, and it feels as though he’s been laced through with tar for his audacity. his fingers curl against kizuna’s palm, at least able to find some appreciation for the cool touch surrounding his paw.

a touch can only go so far, against the weight of a dozen lifetimes’ worth of built resentment, drawn to the surface against its will. it sits under his tongue like a pill forced into his mouth, slowly dissolving and suffusing his body even in his reluctance to swallow. with their hands joined, or something like that, he tugs at kizuna. )

We’re still near. ( as if the arcade is the worst of kizuna’s problems, right now. )

delivery, part one.

[skinstitch]

( after that paw print--it's not like he doesn't know. fucking dog made the whole room rattle, nearly broke his favorite glass out of his hand in surprise. not enough balls to break the door down itself, but a warning is a warning. for being helpful? geez.

but hey, neighbors should be friendly, right? he isn't aware of anyone else on this wing of the floor of ten suites, after all, and it's so helpful that the little track of dirt and smudging leads him to the door directly across from his. cute. this resort really likes fucking with the worst people--

but neighbors. yes. friendly, sure. there's a knock at kirma's door, though once he opens it, there will be no one there: instead, right in front of the frame on the floor, is a glass measuring cup, marked all the way up to four cups, and a small notecard, folded in half. he's tried to make his writing as neat and even as possible--so that the dumb bastard can maybe at least try scanning the text into his watch to have it read to him. )

hiya, neighbor.

can i borrow a cup of sugar? you can leave it at my door.

xoxo

[conspecifics]

( naturally, this is his immediate response. )

[conspecifics]

( the thing is, he doesn't need to recognize dabi's handwriting to know whose little request this is. smoke. ash. metal. a lingering heat in sharp contrast to a cool demeanor of arrogance. not even a man who cloaks his presence from spirits could stand up to the raw identification power of a dog— it does mean kirma's first instinct is to crumple the paper, then very genuinely consider eating it. a pointless gesture that he thankfully refrains from. he is still stuck soliciting help elsewhere to actually read it, but that, too, is an easy thing to accomplish.

one thing's for sure. despite the marked upgrade in size of his new suite— the tenth floor is starting to feel real crowded.

with the message firmly tossed into a wastebasket and mental note to answer the door a little faster in the future, kirma ends back up on dabi's doorstep only a few hours later. behind him, across the hall, his own door remains wide open. neighbors, huh. he slams the bottom of his fist against the door once,
twice,
then turns back to his own room, hands shoving into pockets.

and on the ground just before the door sits the measuring cup: filled with exactly one cup of sugar. no more, no less. )

un: wildflower

[loosestrifes]

( Guess who has finally unblocked him... again. )

I looked into the resort a bit the other night. Are you aware of just how many of these guests are actually spirits?

[conspecifics]

( :D!!! ... oh. the notif was more exciting than the subject.

D: )

The ones at roost. Right.
Is that all you want to talk about?

[loosestrifes]

Not just those. Guests around the resort. Dealers in the casino. They're everywhere, it seems, these beings that seem to be a cross between alive and dead.

[conspecifics]

[conspecifics]

Not funny.
Did it really take you this long to come up with that?

[loosestrifes]

It's not a joke. I looked into the resort from the rooftop gardens. You'll likely still smell the remnants of my setup there, if you really want to check.

[conspecifics]

That's a suspicious invitation.

( he's thinking about this. deeply. like— )

What about the cute girl working at the convenience store? She's on the night shift.

[loosestrifes]

Lost soul.

[conspecifics]

( ............. )

I'll ask her tonight.


Was that all you found out?

[loosestrifes]

You can't ask a lost soul if it's lost. Do you want something terrible to happen to her? Simply focus and you can likely tell yourself. You have a strange talent for that, don't you?

Anyway, no. Are you curious about the rest of it?