PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Ramune
N/A
quirk Fantoccini
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N/A
alias Marionettist
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Post by The Marionettist on Dec 16, 2018 1:37:12 GMT
nonchalantly playing a song of our murderous intent over the radio waves
Day 1, 3:00AM XX/XX/XX
In ancient times, they referred to this time of day as Ushi-no-toki, or the hour of the Ox, after the Chinese zodiac. It was meant to be the time of day that was most quiet, and legend went that this was the hour the divide between the living and dead was at its thinnest. It was advised to heed caution at this hour, lest you may be attacked or possessed by a malevolent remnants of the dead long past. Or that’s what Aya had read when he was younger, in any case.
To the one society would label a villain, however, he didn’t believe in ghosts beyond certain quirk users who’s forms simply resembled spirits, so there was no worry of being up and active at this time of night. In fact to him this was still pretty early, his nocturnal and anti social waking and sleeping times meant he was usually up till around 7am, most likely found working in his “work room” that was a cross between a minor laboratory and an artist’s studio where he created and customised his marionettes.
On this particular day he was working on a head sculpt for a new doll, feeling the need to have more specialised models than just one that was a half way between defence and attack. He wasn’t sure exactly when he started to use his lifelong hobby of creating dolls into his main offensive/defensive weaponry but it had happened, and with the current situations where he was finding himself in far more dangerous and testing situations, it was only logical to keep upgrading and improving them.
Kimi, his first large doll, the one with waves of light blonde hair and large lavender eyes, angelic and serene looking in appearance with it’s long, feathery lashes and delicate pink lips was best as a shield, he felt. It had been steadily growing in size as the months went on and Aya’s control over larger objects strengthened, it was almost the size of a young teenager currently and The Marionettist had, only yesterday finished changing it’s parts so panels on both arms could open up to make a slightly more mobile shield and upgrading its composition so it was more durable. It made the whole thing far heavier to control which was a minus but he guessed with enough practice he should be able to make it work.
Now that Kimi was harder to use as an offensive weapon, it was only logical to make a lighter, easier to control attack marionette. He did have his own form of attack via using his knives in the L'harmonie des lames style, but seeing as he could just use 3 fingers to potentially control something that was far more flexible in terms of attack than simple stabbing, with wider range and gave slightly more defence than his knives could offer.
Taking a swing from the bottle of seasonal limited edition “Orange and berry” ice tea that sat on his work desk, (it wasn’t half bad actually, far better than the clear latte they had in the summer.) Aya glanced at his sketches clipped to a board propped up against the wall. Various body parts had been drawn in many angles, another page dedicated just to skulls, and some partially fleshed facial features like jaw, cheekbones, eye sockets.
Taking out a block of sculpting clay, he started to get to work forming a rough outline of the head around what was essentially a ball, which was his working stand. Cutting a large lump of the smooth, grey material from the block, kneading it between his hands until it was an acceptable softness, he covered the top half of the work stand in the putty like substance, smoothing it over where the back of the head would be, before moving to the front.
Quite a lot of clay later, the stand resembled a grey, somewhat human head shaped lump and he started to form the forehead, this part he was mainly doing out of memory as he smoothed the soft material under his fingers into a soft curve, pushing all the excess down to where the brow bone would be.
“You surround yourself with things to replace what you lack.”
What a time to remember those words thrown at him a while ago. It was the first time he had been told something like that, but then how many people did he talk to properly in his life? How many people had ever entered this apartment or seen how he lived?
One.
That was probably saying a lot about the violet haired man more than anything. Maybe he was correct. Maybe he was trying to make up for things he lacked in his life. Picking up the sculpting knife, he started to mark out where the eye holes would be with firm strokes, removing the excess clay before smoothing out the ridges. Glancing at the nose bridge, he felt it better if it was a little higher and so worked on doing so, pausing for a moment and pushing his chair back so he could look at it from a little further away. Looked better. Good.
On second thoughts, was there really anything he wanted in his life so badly? If nothing Aya prided himself on being independent, and he would like to say one of his best points was his level headedness and ever unwavering calm. The lack of control that came with emotions irked him, he realised with recent occurrences he disliked himself even more than usual when he became emotional. Then again, he had experienced things he never thought was possible for him to feel so no point in regretting it now, it was but a waste of time to do so. Move on. Learn from mistakes. Even if he hated making mistakes more than anything else.
WORDS: 993 || SOLO Don't even read this, I was just bored and I kinna needed to do this. Maybe.
template by Margie @ Adoxography v2
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Ramune
N/A
quirk Fantoccini
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N/A
alias Marionettist
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Post by The Marionettist on Dec 16, 2018 1:41:05 GMT
nonchalantly playing a song of our murderous intent over the radio waves
Day 2, 4:00am XX/XX/XX
The soft hum of the dremel in his hand was the only background music to his work as Aya shaved off silvers of hardened clay out of the eye socket, creating a perfect wide, round curve now that it had been filed down. As he changed the dremel head, he glanced around his work station and thought to himself how this all could be done more efficiently. It was a challenge, mainly because while it was totally possible for him to do up to 10 things at once, he only had one brain and though he must say he was pretty good at multitasking, things like detailing like he was doing now was something that needed his attention too much to do anything else at the same time.
In theory, if he made rough sculpts of all the limb parts they probably could be sanded down at the same time, which would cut production time by quite a bit. Well alright, that is something he could do.
Going back to the head sculpt before him, he started to carve in the eye fold, starting at the corner nearest to the nose bridge, a delicate line following the eye socket, stopping the blade just before the outer corner of the eye. He decided on having slightly half lidded eyes for this one, what was also referred to as a “dreaming” head in the industry, mainly because it would be easier to hide the fact it was a doll this way when he took it out on the streets, and well, it just looked better for this one.
Moving onto refining the nose, he didn’t really bother looking at his sketches, he was a little busy, preoccupied with his thoughts as his hands moved almost automatically, a finger running down the nose to check the curvature and angle every now and then.
The apartment was silent, though he could faintly feel the presence of his “flat mate” who still seemed to be awake, it was rather odd. In the last few months the other man sort of became the norm to be there. Someone being with him in the same space was starting to feel right, for when he wasn’t there due to some reason (mainly because they had another argument and he decided to go off and possibly get killed, or similar.) it felt strangely empty. For a person who had been alone most of the 21 years of his life, this was a very peculiar change indeed. It felt foreign but right at the same time, a strange conflict the two that gave him no hints as to which was the correct one to believe. Was it a positive change? Or something that may steer him away from achieving his goals? Was it a strength? Or a weakness?
“Oh...”
Aya glanced down at the doll head before him, his hands stopping. The sculpt was pretty much complete, and til now he had not really worked with an actual image in mind, in fact he never usually did, he would normally just make a head he thought looked pleasant or beautiful from his imagination but this one was a little different. From the bone structure he could tell who it was straight away.
Ah. How awkward.
Was he developing an obsession with this person to end up freestyling a head sculpt and it ending up looking this way? Or was it because he had seen this face so much recently that it had stuck in his mind? It must be the latter reason, the other was illogical. He considered changing it so it wouldn’t resemble the man so much but at the same time he didn’t want to. It looked perfect as it was. It felt right.
Oh well, once it had a face up most people wouldn’t be able to tell anyway.
Probably.
It was already 7am by the time he glanced at the clock on his main computer screen- casting could be done tomorrow.
WORDS: 677 || SOLO YEP IT'S STILL A SOLO
template by Margie @ Adoxography v2
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Ramune
N/A
quirk Fantoccini
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N/A
alias Marionettist
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Post by The Marionettist on Dec 16, 2018 1:44:57 GMT
nonchalantly playing a song of our murderous intent over the radio waves
Day 3, 4:00am XX/XX/XX
The “skin” that covered the surface of his marionettes was something Aya was rather proud of, it was a mix of silicon, vinyl and a few other things that made it far more durable than normal dolls or human skin but kept the smooth, unblemished, perfect beauty. It also did have a practical use- making his dolls appear more human-like, even upon closer inspection when they came closer to a target. He was pretty sure the only give away was the face which usually was largely covered by hair anyway, and by the time it was that close to a victim, it was too late for them. The new head was designed so the jaw could open fully, tearing through the artificial skin to reveal jutting multiple blades for extreme close combat or if the doll had to hack away at something when it’s arms were seized or occupied- a situation he has had to deal with more than once in combat, that had been likened to something out of a horror film, and well, if it raised fear in his enemies, that was good.
The thin “skin” of the marionette was placed over the finished body and face, the whole thing really taking to shape now as parts clicked into place. Without his quirk, all any of these dolls were where simple oversized, well detailed figures, only barely standing by itself. Their limbs and joints were simply fitted into place with a loud click, but even a simple hard push would be able to reduce them to parts. It was his string-like quirk that penetrated the whole body and held it together, even with sharp movement or hard impact.
Aya put the doll together so he could test it, once all the parts had been assembled he pressed his fingers against the cool “skin”, and a few moments later the distinct feeling of being connected could be felt against his fingertips and a small flex of a finger made its right arm move, a few more fine movements of his connected hand made the new creation slowly get up off the work table. The connection seemed secure.
Good.
As a marionette geared more towards attack, he had created some “gimmicks” for the arms and legs. A sharp clench of his fingers connected to the doll, followed with an unique unhooking motion and flick out of the fingers made a small clicking sound and blades jutted out of the arm and leg parts, catching the early morning light with a glisten. A reversed version of the hand movements retracted the blades with a soft scraping sound of metal and Aya nodded to himself, satisfied with the results so far. It would do for now until he could test it all out properly.
Breaking the connection between them with a light swipe of his thumb against his fingers, he guessed he would work on blushing the limbs and body, while he would complete the head tomorrow. Moving over to the airbrush set up, he started to mix the correct colours to start putting in the shading on the doll’s limbs to make them appear more lifelike. He was aware there was not much need to do this, most of the dolls were covered in clothing but maybe it was just the artist in him who wanted perfection and beauty in every part of his work, visible or not. He would know it was there and that was the most important thing.
Reds, pinks, browns, the colours blossomed on the surface of the pale “skin” with a faint whoosh of the airbrush, adding colour to the otherwise perfect, but inhuman limbs, as if blowing life into them. It was pretty easy, he could remember from memory which parts needed to be what shade, he had studied the real thing so many times before. A beauty spot here. Slight red flush around the fingertips, and the task of shading in all the raised veins on the arms according to the sculpt underneath.
Wavy violet tendrils of hair fell across Aya’s face and he sighed to himself, attempting to move the offending locks by shaking his head to the side, but it didn’t do much, the hair just softly feel back onto his face. On second thoughts he probably should have tied his hair back before starting this. Oh well, too late now, something to remember for tomorrow as his hands were occupied now and would be more work to put everything down than to ignore his hair.
It was probably already starting to show light outside, the clock on his PC screen read 7am. Not that this certain room saw any daylight ever, the only windows in the room were heavily blocked with blackout curtains, and they were never drawn. Sunlight was bad for most things he worked with, and in general sort of annoying so he tended to try and shield from it as much as possible, though now after he sprays sealant on all these parts he would have no choice but to turn on the ventilation on full blast before he left the room as he didn’t want to die from fumes just yet.
WORDS: 874 || SOLO Yep, still a solo.
template by Margie @ Adoxography v2
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Ramune
N/A
quirk Fantoccini
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N/A
alias Marionettist
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Post by The Marionettist on Dec 16, 2018 1:48:15 GMT
nonchalantly playing a song of our murderous intent over the radio waves
Day 4, 3:00am XX/XX/XX
Aya remembered Fearwringer being rather surprised to find out he could do delicate things like draw or make things, though he was a little confused as to why this was the case, did he give off such ungraceful vibes? Well, it was the ex U.A jk who still seemed to think of herself as a bit of a hero, so maybe, no, most likely she was an awful analyst of character so it was nothing to take to heart.
Fine brush strokes drew individual hairs of the brow, that was an elegant, gradual arch over the sculpted brow bone, shifted slightly to the center, as if the doll was in thought, to match his dreaming eyed sculpt. The base shading had already been put in, giving depth and highlights to the correct parts of the face, the faint touch of pink around the waterline of the eye that Aya noticed was a Caucasian trait; he probably had it too, with his half Norwegian blood though his eyes always had some level of dark circles under his eyes that never seemed to go away.
Looking at the head in his hands as he started to root the upper lashes, tweezers affixing each long, dark grey hair into place. He could definitely say it was a delicate, beautiful face, no line was overly harsh, down to the jaw shape and smooth facial structure, to the curve of the Cupid’s bow. He was pretty sure anyone looking at this head mould would agree, now it had been painted and almost complete. Not that many people probably would have a chance to see this thing up close in a situation that they could stop and admire it, which was possibly the same for the person it had ended up being based on without him consciously doing so.
But it was mainly for himself, as he liked making these things and he was a firm believer in things being beautiful whatever their purpose so it didn’t matter.
Aya’s chest felt heavy, tight, almost suffocatingly so, as if unseen hands were squeezing his heart, moving it’s way up to his throat when thoughts went to him and it was uncomfortable. Why did it end up this way? Why did it have to happen? Where did it all go so horribly wrong? He had spent over a decade learning how to disassociate himself with everyone else, learning the refined art of independence, how to anaesthetise mundane desires that everyone else was dominated by, his laissez-faire for anyone that wasn’t himself was the correct way to approach things, it always was. The golden rule of surviving as comfortably as possible.
Or should be.
All it took was one person, one person to spend a little time with him, say a few choice words and his survival mechanism was unraveling, open to the harsh elements of the world, becoming a glaring weakness begging to be taken advantage of.
Pathetic.
All tragic ends in fairy tales came about because two people met, connected with each other, got too involved. The mermaid princess would not have been reduced to nothing and dissolved into the sea if she never saved the prince nor would blood would have been shed if Cendrillon had not gone to the ball and met someone who could not forget about her.
Human contact was always bad news when it was personal, he knew that. Saying he knew was an understatement. It was clear logic, sound rules he had set himself that he had also broken and he only had himself to blame. Others may blame the alcohol, or the other person involved but really he knew it would just be frail excuses and there was no reason to look away from the reality of the situation or he would make a similar mistake again.
And he couldn’t have that.
It was painful, in an almost unexplainable way; it was hard to breathe, memories, thoughts, sensations all tangled into coils that wrapped themselves around him, it was slightly similar to the feeling of hate, something he was familiar with but it wasn’t so repulsive, it was like somewhere in himself he wanted to feel like this, it was an emotion that was being accepted, welcomed, even as it slowly consumed him and that was the most frightening thing of all. It was in Aya’s very nature to protect, preserve himself and yet he wasn’t doing very much to defend himself from this very act of self destruction.
So this was what it felt like to like someone.
How dangerous this was, how downright ridiculous. The fact he was still thinking about it in itself was idiotic beyond belief.
He took a deep breath as he put the brush in his hand down, having finished applying the semi matte gloss to the eyes and lips. Flicking the switch on, the table fan that was pointed at the head whirled to life as he started to work on the hair, straight silvery grey strands that felt soft, maybe a little too much so to be human. It had already been mostly fixed onto the silicone base cap, all he had to do was attach it to the head and secure it once the face was dry.
Now came the question, how was he to deal with this? It was simple really, wasn't it? He wasn’t a princess looking for a happy ending, nor was he willing to let others shape his future. This wasn’t a story, but real life. There probably was no good end to his route, just seemingly endless roads with no certain end before him, which was rather frustrating. He hated unpredictable more than anything else. He wasn’t powerless, he wasn't. He would claw his way up to the surface, whatever it took. He would use everything he could, take advantage of anyone that was of use and cut off anything that got in his way. He would get everything he wanted.
But what did he really want?
“I care…”
Those words he heard that night came back to him at such an inconvenient time. He exhaled an irritated, shaking breath, there was one part of him who wanted to keep that memory as if it was something important, precious while the other identified it as a threat and wanted to destroy it. He had been so stupid, all the things he had said, done that night were things he was never meant to have shown anyone, nevermind Sen of all people. The only saving grace was it seemed like Sen didn’t have an exact recollection of everything that transpired, but he did, and Aya was so glad this was the case or how would he ever be able to even speak to the other man? He would have to destroy the other. He would have known way, too much. A sharp inhale as a particular thing he said came to his mind and he inwardly squirmed at having to accept the words had come out of his lips, and directed at another person at that.
Never again.
Reaching out, gently brushing a fingertip over the gloss, he found it was dry, though that was expected. He reached into one of the small parts drawers on his work desk, pulling out a small, black box. It contained a pair of soft-glass eyes, in a shade that was a very dark red, almost black, only in bright light would the pupil be able to be seen, the iris appearing more like a garnet in colour. Taking the head, he pulled the back of the head off before installing the eyes, then hair. The head now joined the rest of the body, all fitting with a firm click. He was done.
He hadn’t decided on a name for this marionette till now, but Aya knew now what it was to be called. Ore. As in I, myself. He was the only person who was going to protect him with certainty, at all times. Even in this abstract world, he could depend on himself. And that was what he was going to go with. He guessed it a little ironic now, as his shield was Kimi, or you, though it pointed at no one in particular. You and I were a air but they were both himself. A small laugh came to his lips. How dumb. At the end of the day, all he could do was build his defenses higher, protect himself more. He was his sword, and his shield. But that was fine. It was the way it should be. Other people could change their mind on a whim, wake up one day and decide they didn’t love him anymore, or maybe come to realisation they never did, and leave him. He himself, however, could not abandon him as he was all he had. And that was not an issue.
Infact, it was most desired.
WORDS: 1508 || SOLO AND DONE! Aya is still just in denial guys
template by Margie @ Adoxography v2
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