❝There's nothing good about being a detective. Even so, it's a job that someone needs to do.❞
Indie Ginoza Nobuchika (Psycho-Pass) roleplay blog
Tagged by agamenoncrying.
six similarities between mun and muse
౦ Enjoy wearing long sleeved shirts.
౦ L-O-V-E glasses. Adore them, really.
౦ Extremely super selective who we allow to get close to us.
౦ Long hair that’s always in our face.
౦ Hold onto our emotions with an iron grip. Nobody must know how we feel.
౦ Have rather difficult relationships with our father.
six dissimilarities between mun and muse
౦ He takes things literal 100% of the time, I take things literal 55-75% of the time.
౦ I was born disabled.
౦ I actually like pineapple on my food.
౦ He’s organized and tidy to the nines; I’m organized and tidy to the sixes.
౦ I’m forgiving of those who have wronged me in the past or ‘betrayed’ me.
౦ I’m all about music, Gino prefers silence.
Tagging: Whoever wants to do this (ﾉ´ｰ`)ﾉ
❝I ship Ginoza Nobuchika with happiness and a better life, because that ending was just not ok!❞
— Me when a friend of mine was endlessly naming her ships and asked mine. (via vongola-tempesta
An idle flick of blonde tresses as she tossed the packet back to her desk before casting him a slight frown, rancid was hardly the word she would use for such things! Although… the fact her Yayoi had even described them as such probably meant he was more than right.. But of course she would ignore the comments, inhaling heavily before exhaling a familiar white cloud that lingered just a little too long to be considered welcome “Suit yourself, Gino-kun~” a smirk crept over her lips “It’s not the same without Shinya around, lately it seems I’m smoking for the both of us!”
A familiar silence settled as she paused her train of thought, taking a moment to wonder about that particular enforcer with an idle sigh “I trust he hasn’t contacted you either?”
Ginoza would never come to know the powerful addiction or the pleasantries that come along with smoking cigarettes. How could anyone want to pick up the habit in the first place? Is it really as simple as thinking so and picking one up in your hand? He waves the lingering smoke away with his free hand, his famed condescending look on his face at having such unpleasant smoke snake into his face. Still, despite his trash talk, the enforcer finds solace in smoke oddly enough. A reminder that his best friend is still out there somewhere with that stoic look upon his gruff features with a cancer stick hanging from his mouth.
"Hardly. To contact any one of us is a great danger to him," a small sigh, "not to mention our relationship these past recent years. In any case, Kogami isn’t someone to worry about."
"Arara~ Quiet days are worse than those where they drown me in papers” She had grown steadily used to the now-enforcer occasionally dropping in & making himself comfortable on her couch, lightning up another one of her cigarettes before casting him an idle glance “have you given in yet? They’re wonderful to pass the time~” she cooed, holding the packet out towards the dark haired man.
Ginoza didn’t even want to begin contemplating the pain Karanomori must go through being their wonderful analyst. Constantly tapping away at the her keyboards, having to conduct tests and whatever else the inspectors and enforcers request of her; surely a slow day would be better in comparison? He looks from her to object in her hand being held out to him.
"No thank you." A smoking enforcer is one trend he would like to stop. He has nothing against the addiction itself or those who partake in it but he himself doesn’t intend on getting hooked any time soon. "I don’t need my quarters smelling rancid."
"Sure is slow around here.."
"Quiet days are troublesome." But slow days aren’t all that bad. A break every now and then is nice, even to the workaholic Ginoza. He crosses his legs from his position on the couch, gloved hand curled against his cheek. It’s rare to see the enforcer socializing with others if he can help it but even he is learning how to come out of his shell.
The smell of flesh and blood assaulted the woman’s sense, and she fought the urge to look back at the puddles of blood, guts, and gore behind her. Her eyes locked onto the dirty cement, she sighed before glancing at the Enforcer.
"Right,” she said curtly, nodding and doing a instructed, taking a left at the end of the alley way and walking straight ahead. “So, Mr. Enforcer…I’m surprised you don’t have any questions for me. This is usually when people yell or accuse me of something.”
"You’ve been rather tame and quiet. It’s almost boring.”
He follows after her in silence as a safety persuasion; until he is satisfied no one else is coming after them before joining her at her side yet again. For a night that was supposed to go smoothly the enforcer has found himself far from his original post. He can’t help his lips curling just so at her words. Sounds like this woman is always getting into trouble. Just his luck.
"I’m not here for your amusement nor is it my job to yell at people for their shortcomings." Well, compared to previous dogs of the CID, Ginoza is rather tame and quiet in comparison. "As far as questions, I already asked you all that I need. You got lost and are now heading for work. Although," he turns to face her, "I never did ask for your name. I’m Ginoza Nobuchika."
Crisp moonlight shines into an artificially lit room
holding a single patron trapped within the walls.
The lone figure shuffles about the confined space with
a watering can for company. The sound of rushing water
being captured in the plastic container fills the infinity
momentarily, until the tap is killed. Calm steps approach
potted posies with a poised, delicate smile.
"I get along without you very well,” tenor tones serenade, ”of course I do.”
Water trickles like rain onto waiting blossoms. “Except when soft rains fall,
and drip from leaves, then I recall,” soft inhale, “the thrill of being sheltered
in your arms. Of course I do.” Tenderly do phalanges caress and smooth
over velvet greenery as his song fills the air. ”But I get along without you very
"I’ve forgotten you just like I should," growth is picked and tossed,
"of course I have." He moves about the room softly with slight sway.
"Except to hear your name," water trickles, "or someone’s laugh that
is the same,” a bud given attention, “but I’ve forgotten you just like I
Whoosh opens his quarters door, the hushed sound drowned
out by his melodic voice. “What a guy, what a fool am I, to think
my breaking heart could kid the moon.” Oblivious does the
hound stay to his intruder while carried away in song.
"What’s in store?" Flora is examined. "Should I phone
once more? No, it’s best that I stick to my tune.”
"I get along without you very well, of course I do,” inhale,
"Except perhaps in Spring," quarter turn, "But I should never think
of Spring, for that would surely break my heart-” Ginoza turns around
fully, finally giving attention to the person in wait, “In… two…”
"How long have you been standing there?"
hydrangea by hamapenguin on Flickr.