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โถ AUDIO
โถ VIDEO
โถ ACTION
18 / Male / Bi / Kingโ ๏ธ
Details
(Weiss Schnee wrote all of this, and literally none of it is accurate. ยฏ\_(ใ)_/ยฏ I'm too lazy to change it, though. It's good for a laugh, I guess! I'm just a regular guy, thanks.)
Yo! My name's Kazuya Minegishi. I'm just your average boy... or so I thought! As it turns out, my world has a demon infestation problem, and guess who got roped into taking care of it? That's right. It's your boy.
Don't get me wrong-- I'm no hero. I'd rather be listening to cool music on my MP3 player than summoning demons. But hey, when the fate of the world and my friends is on the line, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.
Pretty cool, right? I'm so cool. I've since ascended to the throne and become the King of Demons. All the demons in the world now bow to me. I may look like a lanky boy, but I've got so much power and hunger for human souls.
To rise up the ranks, of course! I currently live in the worst room possible, and it is my goal to take me and my friends to the top.
Yo, they call me the King of Rap, the polymath prodigy,
Got skills so diverse, I'm a one-man symphony.
Chess boards tremble at my touch, kings bow to my gambits,
Checkmate in five, your intellect scattered in fragments.
But strategy ain't the only language I speak,
Fifty tongues on lock, conversation unique.
Mandarin to Maori, Farsi to French, I flow,
Every syllable a weapon, watch the knowledge overthrow.
Books devour me whole, knowledge my fuel,
IQ off the charts, Einstein eat your drool.
Philosophy dissected, science on my tongue,
History dances with future, a symphony unsung.
But don't mistake me for a brainiac in a gown,
My skills ain't confined to academia's crown.
Kitchen's my canvas, flames my brush, I paint,
Flavors explode, palates sing, no culinary complaint.
And when the chaos reigns, I'm the hurricane's eye,
Dust bunnies tremble, grime surrenders with a sigh.
This ain't just brag, it's a testament to life,
Each talent a facet, cutting through the strife.
Mind sharp as a rapier, words sharper than knives,
My bite ain't for aggression, it's wisdom that thrives.
So come one, come all, test the multi-faceted skill,
Board games or Babel, I'll conquer with will.
Renaissance Rap ain't a title, it's a soul unbound,
Where knowledge and passion in a masterpiece are found.
Forget books, music, and food. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE BEST MOVIE EVER!!!!!!
Buckle up, because you're about to witness the wildest flight of your life - a honey-soaked, pollen-powered fever dream where bees sue humans for stealing their syrup! Imagine this: a world buzzing with disgruntled pollinators, led by a rogue honeybee with a taste for jazz and a bone to pick with Big Sugar. Picture him, wings slicked back with rebellious swagger, delivering courtroom diatribes against greedy humans harvesting their golden nectar.
Get ready for courtroom antics that would make a hornet laugh, with witness stands overflowing with jittery bumblebees and nervous ants. See bees in disguise infiltrate honey factories, unleashing chaos with pollen bombs and sticky sabotage. Witness epic courtroom showdowns, where the fate of a jar of honey hangs in the balance, and one sassy bee's rap skills hold the key to unlocking freedom for his buzzing brethren. So grab your pollen basket and prepare for a cinematic trip so bonkers, it'll leave you questioning everything you thought you knew about honey... and jazz.
She is the winter's whisper, a breath of cool defiance in a world ablaze. Her beauty is sculpted ice, sharp angles softened by the ghost of a smile. Her eyes, the color of a glacier's heart, hold depths both chilling and captivating, promising untold stories etched in frost.
Her strength isn't the blaring anthem of a warrior, but the quiet hum of resilience, a willow that bends but never breaks. Her mind, a labyrinth of icy intellect, houses a cunning that outmaneuvers the mightiest storms. Yet, beneath the glacial facade lies a hidden well of empathy, a warmth that thaws frozen hearts with the gentle grace of a spring thaw.
She is a paradox, a symphony of contradictions played on the strings of fate. A creature of both elegance and grit, where icy brilliance dances with the raw power of a blizzard. She is the woman who walks through fire, not unscathed, but ever more resplendent for the kiss of the flames.
She is, quite simply, unforgettable. And though the world may try to confine her, to label her as fragile or cold, she will forever be the untamed spirit, the whisper of winter that carves its own path through the storm.
Though, I suppose anyone with similar traits will do. I'm very easy!
Wine. I'm very classy.
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
No one would want to choose either of these choices
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Hot showers with others ;)
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Ninjas
.05 TITS OR ASS
Breasts in my hands and my penis in someone's ass
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
None
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Spicy
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Winter
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Leather. I'm a very, very bad demon!!!
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
The one where there's biting ;)
ESTP-A
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Get arrested as much as you like. I don't think they care.
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and they care ENOUGH to drag me down here in the first place.
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[ Hold on, he's going out to get Akira a card at one of the local stores.... It's one of a cartoon turtle on its back, clearly struggling. The text says "Hope you're back onf your feet soon!".
Afterwards, he grabs a nice bouquet of flowers, and some chocolate from a higher end store.
This all takes roughly 15 minutes as he hums and haws over the selection of cards, flowers, and chocolates before he sends one of his fan club members to deliver this very precious package to the jail where Akira is.
It'll be there soon!
... this asshole isn't even delivering it or teleporting it himself. Wow. ]
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[Akira, who is not expecting any kind of gift at all and just wanted to rant about the clear inequities between criminal and low-ranked civilian life in the resort, will be perfectly surprised to receive such a nice delivery! and he might even be touched by it, but-for for one small problem. . .]
[Kazuya gets another text about five minutes after his fan club member drops off the package]
you can teleport you lazy asshole.
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AND you're making me feel like i have a terminal disease. am i about to die from being-in-prison-itis?
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twenty-four hours left to live and you won't even come visit me to say goodbye.
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in a pair of prison-grade soft fuzzy slippers and a fancy robe.
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at this rate, you're going to be my number one target when i decide to start haunting people.
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ghosts are incorporeal. they pass through walls
alternatively: that's what vents are for.
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As for the vents, I'll make sure the ones in my room are Extra Tiny.
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[... Well, maybe not that far??? But he's willing to bluff.]
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guess i'll have to think outside the box, then.
[suddenly: a mysterious knock on Kazuya's door?]
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Does he even want to open it... What if it's one of his groupies... Ugh.]
Did you send me anything.
That determines on whether or not I bother opening my door.
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[yes. yes he did]
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[ But he's going to get up to open the door, not at all suspicious of what might or might not be behind it... ]
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[they lean in, offering him a tightly sealed red envelope, and mutterโ honestly, you can do sooooo much better, I don't know why you waste your time with such riffraff]
[ANYWAY. inside the envelope is a thank you card with a cartoon hot dog and bun on the front! it says "franks a lot!"]
[on the inside, Akira has scribbled a little personalized message: next time we meet, i'll thank you properly by stealing your heart. WINKY FACE]