hinomesu-blog

[hinomesu-blog]

|| sorry for not being here lately I’ve been working on a bunch of other things and playing overwatch an unhealthy amount but I swear I’ll reply to everybody within the week !!!

[hinomesu-blog]

' local man caught trying his best ! '

❝… I suppose so.❞

A smile ghosts over his face.

❝But without you, Gon, I would never have gotten this far… so thank you.❞

[hinomesu-blog]

"Local man needs a nap."

❝On the contrary, I’m fully rested. Don’t make assumptions,❞ he lies, while lying. Please knock this man out.

[hinomesu-blog]

What I do not care about with RPing:

Reply length

Reply speed

Typos

Continuity errors (especially for long-running threads)

Whether your RP blog is a sideblog

Your RP blog’s aesthetic

Unique fonts in posts

Unique muse icons

Special post formatting

What I do care about with RPing:

Having fun

Pride in and enthusiasm for writing our muses

The chance to make friends with you

Entertaining and challenging ourselves as writers

Our thread(s) contributing to the development of our muses

Having fun

Looking forward to seeing where our story will take our muses

Growing as a writer with you

Having fun

[hinomesu-blog]

…While I don’t consider myself a particularly open individual, I suppose I’ll be taking your questions!

[hinomesu-blog]

familiar quiz

quiz; tagged by @niightingcle

TIGER

The Tiger, though very, very powerful, is a dangerous, mysterious, and unpredictable familiar. They are often the companion of one who has strong feelings of vengeance or hate to another person. However, you are most likely very independent and sure of who you are, and strive to be yourself and not conform to others. You are pushed through even the toughest of situations through willpower and wise decisions, if you are able to keep your feelings of anger in check. A Tiger familiar is a very strong, vicious partner in battle, helps their master through mental stress, and gives them the will to continue on. This familiar represents

Shadows

Willpower

Anger

Unpredictability

Mystery

Wisdom

Tagging: anyone who wants to!

[hinomesu-blog]

a x surprise x encounter!

( @niightingcle liked for a starter. )

——

Out of everything that’s happened today, every risky communication and not-so-legal dealing and shady figure that he’s associated himself with, the absolute last place Kurapika expects to ruin his generally normal day is the vending machine. . . and yet it does exactly that.

He’s on his way to the vending machine when he catches sight of somebody standing in front of it. Usually not a problem. Kurapika’s patient, for the most part, even when every minute that passes is another minute without iced coffee.

The problem lies in the fact that, with a jolt, the Kurta realizes this person is very familiar to him. He’s spent enough time going over blurry, pixelated images captured of the Phantom Troupe to know they’ve recently acquired new members. Even though he’s made it a point to no longer actively go after them, he’s kept tabs on them over the years— just in case— and the face framed by long, dark hair is recognizable enough that Kurapika immediately acts, iced coffee forgotten.

His chains glint in the dusk.

❝Don’t bother trying to escape,❞ he hisses, the Nen-cloaked chains moving to constrict him like silver snakes. ❝I already have you captured.❞

[hinomesu-blog]

//OOC: PSA

Doesn’t matter if we’ve never interacted, if we’ve interacted once, or a BILLION times. Doesn’t matter if we have zero threads or FIVE BILLION. 

ALWAYS feel free to spam my ask box with in character asks, questions, or starters. 

ALWAYS feel free to spam my inbox with ask box memes!

ALWAYS feel free to tag/@mention me in memes.

ALWAYS feel free to tag/@mention me in quizzes. 

ALWAYS feel free to tag/@mention me in posts you want me to see!

ALWAYS feel free to tag/@mention me in posts that remind you of me/my muse.

ALWAYS feel free to tag/@mention me in stuff, period! 

ALWAYS feel free to start an interaction with my muse!

ALWAYS feel free to suggest a plot for our muses. 

ALWAYS feel free to send me an OOC message in DMs or in Asks.

I LOVE that stuff. YOU’RE NOT BEING ANNOYING. IT MAKES MY DAY. Talk to me! I love it! :D 

[hinomesu-blog]

'local man of relatively short stature possess rage equivalent to that of a large bear; where /does/ he store it?'

❝At least I don’t possess the face of a large bear.❞

[hinomesu-blog]

|| AU where someone hires the Zoldycks to kill & take the eyes of the Kurta clan

[hinomesu-blog]

@mediknight:

Leorio’s drying his hands in the medical suite when his phone rings. He thought it’d died hours ago, before his shift started, but then he remembers how rarely he’s contacted, how his most recent texts are days, even weeks old. The shrill sound startles him, but he recovers from the shock and wipes the remaining moisture from his palms onto his scrubs, still pristine.

He’s been observing, still months away from practical surgical experience, but he’s familiarized himself with scalpels and stitches, knows the texture of a still-beating heart when bared to the open air. Even when he isn’t scheduled, he finds himself loitering in the hospital, listening and connecting textbook ideas to what he sees, and the staff all know him by name.

Days pass when he forgets his life beyond of sterile walls and stuffy libraries. Everyone outside makes it so easy to forget.

The scarce reminders - minor exploits of adventures in rural papers, occasional e-mails, this phone call - are jarring enough to make Leorio homesick for a place intangible.

After the second ring, he peers into the hallway before easing the swinging door open with his shoulder. Only then, in the echoing silence of linoleum and florescence, does he draw his phone from his pocket and squint at the screen.

Kurapika. There’s a name worth the breath it takes to speak its syllables. Leorio’s thumb hovers over the green button and air hitches in his throat. Even as he presses down, he wonders how long it’s been since they spoke, how many messages Kurapika opened but ignored, and what the hell was going through his mind when he decided to call.

But he can’t quite muster the anger he wants to feel; a shout broils deep in his chest, but there it stays, unvoiced. Instead, he stuffs his free hand into a pocket and stares down the hallway, at the bright intersection and framed prints that cast glares on the wallpaper. He’s tired enough that the nagging fear under his ribs feels like a body ache or bruise, nothing more.

“It’s been a while,” he says into the static, suppressing his longing, his loneliness, his everything, until only sarcasm remains. “For you to call me now, after however long it’s been, without any warning…” He allows himself a laugh and leans into a wall, curving his spine comfortably. “You must be drunk or dying, and I’ll be honest, Kurapika, I don’t know which I’d prefer.”

——

When he hears his voice, Kurapika’s suddenly starkly aware of the time that has passed. They’ve both changed so much - and yet fundamentally they’re still the same. The same old Leorio who wants to be a doctor, the same old Kurapika who wants to avenge his clan. But what used to be them is a concept that seems so foreign, so unattainable. . . back when he could joke and laugh and argue about honor versus greed without feeling a horrible pang in his chest when he’s reminded of what he’s done.

He finds himself wishing that he could go back to this time, where everything was freer and easier.

❝. . . funny. Unfortunately for you, I’m neither.❞ Kurapika lies through his teeth, exhaling raggedly. The pain at his abdomen pulses along his heartbeat. Leorio must be angry with him for not being there, for deliberately making himself unreachable — he wonders if he knows about all the times he sat staring at his phone, a finger’s breadth away from answering, and how many times he refused himself of it. The kind of life he’s involved with isn’t something he’s particularly enthused to bring his friends in, especially because he knows they would step in in a millisecond - that’s the kind of people that they are, and he simultaneously loves and hates them for it.

So everything about this phone call is one big, selfish mistake. And he knows it. But he can’t seem to find the energy to worry about it; it’s like he’s already burned it all out.

❝I just. . .❞

Wanted to hear your voice? Pretend like you’re still here, and not pushed somewhere far away by my own hand?

❝. . . wanted to make sure you’re still keeping up with your medical studies.❞

[hinomesu-blog]

"Local man survives on coffee, scientists baffled as to how he's alive."

❝I don’t survive on it. It’s just occasional.❞

Says this while sipping on cold coffee at approximately 9 at night.

[hinomesu-blog]

Sum my muse up as a news article title

Example: “Local man gets what he deserves”, “Local man fucks everything up.”, etc etc. Bonus points if you make the mun laugh.

[hinomesu-blog]

dark continent kurapika

it’s been a while since i drew any hxh ;.;

[hinomesu-blog]

He offered a small nod, not quite finding it in himself to smile. ❝I’m glad,❞ he murmured, exhaling. All in all, this situation could have ended up much worse than it had; this was a B-level threat, and the Hunter Association has barely assigned a fraction of its experienced members to deal with it. Still, though, Gon’s resulting wounds and the hurt that Killua had undoubtedly sustained made it a hard event to celebrate.

Kurapika’s eyes lingered on the former assassin’s small form. He’d spent enough time with him to know what he was feeling, sometimes, and the recent events that had shaken his friend’s psyche revertebrated outwards in a way he couldn’t just simply look past. Leorio’d call it mother instincts, he supposed. But it was more akin to mutual understanding.

Not being there for your friends and the accompanying guilt was something he could understand, after all. From early on, not being able to prevent the death of his clan. . . And then not being there for Gon, for Killua. . . the inner turmoil hurt, and was made even worse because it was deserved. At least, that was the way it was justified —— but for Killua, with the little Kurapika had heard about his circumstances, wrongly so.

❝But that wasn’t entirely what I meant.❞ His voice softened. ❝You don’t have to talk to me about it, but please don’t put up a front.❞

‘ Do you want to talk about it? ’ || love your writing, btw!

@hinomesu | source

                Truth be told, he did want to talk about what happened. As much as he felt the urge to spew out a list of grievances, he couldn’t bring himself to. Over the past few weeks, the mess had been cleared, but the stain of failure remained. If he could go back to that day, would he be able to change Gon’s mind? or would he have only succeeded in provoking his rage? If Gon had curbed his anger towards him instead of Pitou, maybe he could have stopped him. But all he could do was watch his friend’s back as he walked away. To him, he was just a fly on the wall. A mere pebble in his path. He couldn’t shake that feeling of helplessness from welling up now and then. But he refused to let it get the better of him. However horrible he felt, he knew Gon was a hundred times worse.

                ❛ Well, we both made it out alive, that’s what counts. Plus, because of him, I was able to free my sister. Pissed Illumi off, too. Heh. Serves him right. ❜

[hinomesu-blog]

THERE’S NEVER ENOUGH POSITIVITY AROUND !

a blog dedicated to give some good vibes for the roleplay community of the series HUNTER x HUNTER. non roleplayers & roleplayers are free to send in their good vibes to any roleplayer of the fandom. Canons & OCs are all cool !    Be sure to check the blog’s guidelines before sending one in !

[hinomesu-blog]

( @mediknight liked for a starter )

A stinging pain spreads from the side of his abdomen, and Kurapika blearily realizes that his hands are coming away slick and dark. Damn it, he thinks to himself, eyes closing as he slides down into a defeated sitting position. He’s done two things wrong today: activating Emperor Time for far too long already, and then failing to catch this final stray bullet. He can’t muster up the strength to heal it on his own at the moment, and even if he tried, there’s a very real possibility of falling unconscious from overwork and then bleeding out.

Damn it.

His hands grope for his phone, digging it out from a pocket that already feels wet with blood. Fingers clumsily unlock it and search through his contacts, before his eyes land on a certain name - one that communicates sudden emotions of warmth and healing and all of a sudden his logic and reasoning forsake him.

He calls Leorio.

Kurapika breathes out a sigh as he listens to it ring.