We can't all get along

An Independent RP blog for Yata Misaki of the anime K.

MA!Status: none

I track homuracommander.

Multifandom friendly II Multiship friendly II NSFW friendly II AU friendly

Blog timeline is generally before the time of the show, but I am open to RPing in any timeline status. If you aren't sure, just assume that it's pre-Totsuka's death and post-Saruhiko leaving.

Not all icons are mine, but please ask permission before using my icons.

Headcanons are my own, please don't take them/copy-paste them somewhere else.

AU II Servant of Evil II Faceoffascism & Assasinodelsud

 How many days had it been since he’d had anything to eat? A man wasn’t meant to go this long without eating. Yata slumped against the side of a brick building, clinging onto a case of his wares. It was no good.  There was no one coming into this part of town, no one that hadn’t heard his sales pitch. 

 How annoying.

 As he grumbled to himself he noticed a change. It was getting a little quieter on the main street. The redhead kicked off the wall and went out to take a look.

 Twins. Or .. People who looked a lot alike. and one of them looked loaded. and since he’d never seen this loaded stranger, why not take the chance and get a little cash out of him? One way or the other. They didn’t look very tough, or fast. 


 Smirking he stopped in front of the two and gave his best salesman smile, not that he had good tactics in the first place. If selling didn’t work, he usually just grabbed and ran. “You look like a coupla fine upstanding guys, and fine upstanding guys like you gotta eat, right? So why settle for bread an’ all that boring shit when you could have some grade A meat?”

 Popping open the wooden box he showed the two of them his wares. Collected all over the city and poached on his own time. “We got everythin’ you could want. Horse, pidgeon, crow, cow, whatever’d suit your taste.” His voice was unused to speaking Italian, and it was incredibly clear that he was foreign. Most words were either half-wrong or just left out of sentences. “What do you say, sirs?”