@celestial-torrent
Someone had broken into Djeetaâs house in Fibonacci. It wasnât obvious at first---not a single item is out of place, nothing stolen or destroyed as one might expect when a thief whisks their way through anotherâs home. No, if anything, something had been added.
A familiar perfume would tickle the young skyfarerâs senses upon entering her own room, a breeze carried in by a slightly open window. The moon and stars were clouded over on this eve by one of many eclipses, but if she chose to investigate the darkness until she gets close---
Then, and only then, would glimmering yellow eyes open and become visible. The silhouetted thief perched on the windowâs sill would disappear just before any attempt could be made to reach out to him, cackling breaking the silence of the night.
Regardless, a perfumed calling card had been placed upon her pillow, a cat-like symbol greeting Djeeta alongside familiar cursive.
My Dear Friend,
I would like to inform you that when natural light once again flits across the city of spirals
I plan to steal your breath away
A trail of stars shall guide your way, until the moonâs tears wash over you
Yours mysteriously,
Phantom Thief Chat Noir
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Unspoken Fluff Starters
A gentle brush against fingers.
A head pat.
A short shoulder rub.
Leaning into their side.
Joining them in silence.
A quick hug from the side.
Sitting with them.
Bringing them a drink.
Bringing them food.
A hug from behind.
Stroking their hand.
A slight nudge of the elbow.
The lightest âboopâ on the nose.
A head to head touch.
A quiet evening walk.
Sharing a meal.
One resting on the other.
Giving them their coat.
Handing them a small gift.
A comforting smile.
Making space for them to sit.
A soft brush against the face.
A quiet kiss.
A comforting hug from the front.
Sharing a nap.
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[ been pretty quiet lately bc lifeâs been fighting me but!!! like this post for a starter as i try to get back in the swing of things tomorrow/fridayÂ
no cap, just gonna do my best to make it all happen as i get time ]
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[ been pretty quiet lately bc lifeâs been fighting me but!!! like this post for a starter as i try to get back in the swing of things tomorrow/fridayÂ
no cap, just gonna do my best to make it all happen as i get time ]
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@bxsiliisk
They donât meet face to face for some time after Chat Noir returns to the city of spirals, but there certainly are obvious hints that the phantom thief had returned to Romanusâ home.
Beautiful scarlet red roses now lined the front doorway of the house in an arch, new decorations and flora to properly welcome spring. Every item in their fridge now stared back at those who dared to throw it open: silly googly eyes plastered to cartons, tupperware, and anything else that took up space in its cold embrace.
No, it wasnât until one late evening, the stars glimmering high above as Romanus closes up his club alone, that he meets Ămile again. Slipping out of the shadows and into the light next to him, as if heâd always been there, a wicked smile alit on pretty features, he breaks the silence of the evening.
     â Good evening, dearest heart---many a moon has passed since our last meeting, but Iâm sure you can forgive my absence: fate has the oddest of whims, especially in a city such as this one. â
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[the granblue fantasy!!!!!!!! instagram!!!!!!!! posted a picture of my boy!!!!!!!!
this is all iâll be talking about for the next 100 years on twitter iâm so sorry yaâll]
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@aneerietale
Slipping in, unnoticed, had always been an easy feat for Chat Noir. Locks never stopped him for more than a moment, and there were ways to hide in plain sight when he infiltrated more guarded areas. A necessity, when his calling cards announced his heists before theyâd even begun.
This was no heist. The unseen puppet masters governing Spirale hadnât returned his key to Romanusâ house, so Chat Noir was simply going âhome.â The sun was setting over the city now, but when he arrived in his room, something was amiss. For the most part, every item was as heâd left it. The puzzle that unlocked the entrance to a secret room was untouched, all of his belongings were in order, except---
All of his blankets had mysteriously disappeared. A smile tugged up at the corners of thin lips, amusement dancing through his veins.
Well, heâd just have to pay his dear friend Nikkari a visit a little sooner than expected.
By the time darkness had truly descended over Spirale, the outside world only lit by the moon and stars, a scented calling card and a planter of red roses would be waiting on Nikkariâs bedside table. While most of the roses were true blooms, one in particular was a fraud with a proximity sensor: if anything got too close to it, water would spray out.
Dearest Nikkari,
Consider this a statement of my intentions: Iâm interested in you.
Many a moon has passed since our last rendezvous beneath the stars, and tonight I plan to steal away more than just your breath.
Indulge me, and come to the window.
Yours mysteriously,
Phantom Thief Chat Noir
By the time his current target had finished reading the letter, a slight breeze swept through the room: the window opened to allow the moonlight in---along with a scattering of red and pink rose petals.
And if his wishes were followed to the letter? For a brief moment, only the dazzle of the stars and moon would greet dear Nikkari; when the phantom thief did appear, he was upside down, his face obscured just as the last time. And, just like their last meeting, he slipped in to steal a kiss, before flipping and settling on the windowâs frame. Only when his hat was removed and pressed to his chest did his face come into view, and he finally spoke.
     â To go so far as to steal from a phantom thief... how delightfully bold, Nikkari. â
Flattering, too, if it was a signal that his dear friend had missed him.
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Chat Noir - Granblue Fantasy
the slinkiest cat man to ever live
a true gentleman leaves no puzzle unfucked
a mischievous shithead that loves childish pranks---water guns and rubber insects/snakes are not beneath him in the least
a phantom thief: heâll send a cryptic, perfumed love letter calling card before stealing ur heart treasures
he loves beetles most, but all insects are good---in another life, he might have been an entomologist, but he canât resist a good heist
chatâs really good with his hands, and tends to tinker around with robots and spare parts often
prefers whisking others on fun adventures to giving material gifts, but will indulge in those for certain holidays
a proud morosexual: only has eyes for his âdestined rival,â detective barawa
heâll still flirt though. a lot.
his laughter has two settings: soft and airy vs ugly cackling. which is his real laugh??? you decide
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How amusing---the gears of fate turned ever onward, whirring and spurring far outside of one phantom thiefâs control. He knew this, and yet, Chat Noir far preferred to be the one pulling the strings and setting the stage for escapades and dramatic events.
Here, in this city of spirals, he still had yet to unearth much in the way of information on their captors. This time around, he would be sure to remedy that.
Arriving in Spirale after months back in the skies he called home was strange, to say the least. A ghostly driver tried to drag him through the same motions as the first time around, but Chat was far more alert and aware this time---instead of accepting a ride to his new âhome,â he waved the flickering chauffeur off, opting to take the key and wander the city properly.
Not that it mattered. The key to House 143, a residence in Fibonacci, wouldnât truly get any use. Chat Noir turned it over in his hands several times, before pocketing it. For now, the Golden ward would work just fine as a place to live---he already had a place in mind, and a lack of key wouldnât stop a phantom thief such as himself. Picking locks was mere childâs play.
Heâd focus his efforts on getting situated, and then turn his attention to more fun priorities: namely, crafting a few surprises and fancy entrances to let his companions know heâd returned. Simply returning to business as usual would be far too dull for him, after all.
Even if he belonged in the sky, Chat Noir couldnât exactly ignore fateâs whims---this time, heâd unravel all the secrets Spirale had to offer. All while having a little fun here and there; mischief certainly made life all the merrier.
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hi there mods! without prior reserve, i'd like to reapp chat noir from granblue fantasy. his application can be found under /app
Welcome back!
Youâll be staying in HOUSE 143!
Youâll retain everything from your previous stay!
Enjoy!
âMod Lyra
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How wonderfully unexpected. Oftentimes, when Chat Noir returned from his late night escapades, the house was still and quiet as could be---though, he usually arrived before the sun managed to stretch its way above the horizon. Some plans required a little extra time to unfold, and there was no use in rushing perfection. Especially when it involved stealing back happiness that had been unjustly taken by criminals far more selfish and cruel than he.
     â You could say that. â
As his lips curled upwards into a mysterious smile, he waved a hand dismissively, as something of a response to Romanusâ earlier question. Coffee would only make it more difficult to fall asleep when exhaustion set in, and heâd always preferred tea. It only took a few moments to fill up a little glass teapot with water and set it up on the stove, before Chat returned his attention to his dear friend.
     â And what of you? Trouble sleeping, or did you plan to rise alongside the sun today? â
forewarnedfate liked your post âLike this for a starter. Its capped at 3! People who know Ro is exemptâŠâ
ââEy, you want some coffee?â Romanus hadnât expected anyone to be awake at this time of the morning. The sun was barley peeking out to greet the world and the only things that were up were probably the birds, and maybe some other early birds out there. Romanus couldnât stay awake and so he chose to do exactly this. Getting up, going downstairs, and fixing himself a cup of hot coffee.Â
âCouldnât sleep in?âÂ
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đ!!
send me a heart to learn something about my muse! | No Longer Acceptingđ: what would my muse consider a âperfect giftâ?
[ A surprisingly difficult question to answer!
Despite being a phantom thief, Chat doesnât put quite so much stock in material items as one might expect at first glance. His idea of âperfect giftsâ are more tailor made experiences for those that he sets his sights on, and its shown very clearly in the way that he handles most âgift-giving holidaysâ when interacting with Gran/Djeeta.
For birthdays and Christmas, heâs more set on taking the captain of the Grandcypher out to do something thatâs both thrilling and fun: from snowball fights and ice skating to leaving the Grandcypher on his skyskimmer alone to go anywhere they so desire.
It also shines through in how he crafts his various heists and how he interacts with Barawa and Sarya.
There is no physical perfect gift for Chat Noir. ]
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[Hi! Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you used to run an IB rp blog?]
[ 800 years ago, when i was just a baby eighteen year old---
yeah, i ran a garry rp blog that i dont really remember the url of anymore
that was waaayyyyy back in 2014 though, so itâs a little surprising that anyone would recognize me (iâd like to think iâve grown up quite a bit since then!) ]
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foxfiresfancyâ:
Her frown deepens at the mention of an apology. âYou hurt a lot of people, E.â The old nickname slips past her lips without her even noticing. âYou hurt me, you hurt my parents and my brother.â
âWhy didnât you just tell us things at home were bad? If you needed to get out you could have come to us. We couldâve helped you, Ămile.â She crosses her arms defensively, though itâs more to keep herself together than to brace for any answer her old friend may give. âI thought you knew that⊠I thought you trusted meâŠâ
He can lie. Play along with the pieces of what she had said, twisting them in such a way that might appease Aysha and make her feel better. Carefully constructed lies were so much cleaner, far prettier than the reality of the situation. For several long moments, itâs more tempting than Ămile would prefer to admit. He knows how to play act sincerity, tug at anotherâs heart strings just right to wholly be the victim.
     â I didnât--- â
He wonât lie. Not this time. A deep breath is taken before he starts again, even if this is a much more intense beginning to this conversation than he had hoped for.
     â No, I knew. Deep down, I knew you would have helped. That your family could have, willingly, separated me from mother. Not- not the first few years of it, but when I became more than just an obedient little child that couldnât think for himself. It wasnât lack of trust. â
His words are a bit more hurried, still soft, but less refined in their cadence. His eyes wonât meet Ayshaâs. The reality is all wrong, none of it a comfort to anyone, least of all Ămile. If only his pretty, perfect lies could be the truth. Then this conversation would be simple and easy.
     â I wanted to stay by her side. More than anything, I wanted... her to look at me and smile. Not through me---not that hollow gaze she wore at home, or the practiced smile that she feigned in public---I wanted to be seen. And loved, and thanked for all I had done, and continued to do, as her little, dutiful tool. We were both selfish. I wanted what I didnât deserve, just as she did. You would have helped me, but I liked pretending that everything was okay when I wasnât with her. I didnât want anyone to see me for what I was---least of all you. I hurt everyone for my own sake. At first it was only out of fear, but it quickly twisted up. I feared and hated her, but I loved her, too, and I craved her approval. I liked other people, and I wanted them to believe me to be worthy of love, but I wanted more than that. â
He had hoped that after so many years, it might be easier to state outright, but even now it felt like a poison slipping through his veins, leaving a burning, nasty sensation crawling beneath his skin.
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ingoldententâ:
âOh, I-Itâs not like that!â He quickly raises his arms to dispel whatever bad impression his words just brought. âYou see, my wife and I are fans of puzzles and mysteries and stuff like that, especially if it has a spooky vibe to it. You canât blame me for wanting to learn from good craft, right?â
In particular, Battler seemed interested at the spider robots. Itâs likely that such contraptions wouldnât be approved by Knoxâs Commandments, but itâs not like every mystery has to follow those. Battler points at one. âBy the way, how did you control those?â
As the other man scrambled to explain himself, Chat Noirâs lips only curved ever upward; soon enough, soft laughter spilled out into the open air, and previously narrowed eyes softened.
     â Iâm only teasing---Iâve been having such fun acting the part of phantom thief, I couldnât help myself. Puzzles and mysteries are worth exploring all the deeper, and I donât mind satiating a fellow enthusiastâs curiosity. â
Easier to pretend that âChat Noirâ was only an act specially put on for this haunted house. If people truly believed him to be a phantom thief, that would only make it all the harder to get others to trust him here in Spirale, especially given his current limitations. Back home in Phantagrade, his name was known across the skies, but his face... not so much.
     â For the most part, theyâre pre-programmed. I do have a device on hand to manually override them should the need arise, but I thought it would make things more seamless if I didnât need to control each and every single one at all times. They have motion sensors to keep them from touching any of the guests, but if youâre fast, you could grab one. â
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mycseiâ:
 It had been awhile since he had adjusted to this life, it was strangeâ but quiet. Something he hadnât been used to for a long time, not since he was much younger⊠in fact, it was probably the first time in years since he had even talked to any of them. Yet here he was, moving in with his youngest brother to take care of him after such a horrible accident. It really seemed as if he was out of place, as if he shouldnât be hereâ but it was too late to back out now. He supposed he would just have to make do.Â
 Perhaps he should clean upâŠ? Certainly Lucifer wasnât exactly messyâ but he didnât feel content just sitting around the house doing nothing. After all, he had finished moving in already and he didnât have any other things that he should be doing. The best thing would probably be to wait at the hospital for Lucifer⊠yes, perhaps that was the best thing he could do.Â
 Getting ready to go out, he couldnât help but hear soft noises from the kitchen. Strange⊠he didnât recall anyone else being home but him. His mind immediately went to a burglar breaking in. He had his fair share of people attempting to break into his living space, and though he was very quiet about where he was living at any given time⊠he knew stalkers always had their ways.Â
 Being a bit sneaky he peaked around the door frame expecting to see a random fan breaking in, but in turn he saw quite the opposite. Ămile? Someone he had worked with years ago, but he could still recognize his face. He wondered what on earth he would be doing in a place like this, much less his brotherâs home.Â
 Taking a step forward, he revealed himself entirely as he gave a soft sigh. He wasnât even that much upsetâ mostly just confused if anything.Â
      â ĂmileâŠ? What on earth are you doing breaking into my brotherâs house? â
Luck seemed to be on his side tonight, or perhaps heâd just been correct in his judgement of Lucioâs behavior. The police werenât called, nor did his old friend have any sort of weapon on hand---
At a later time, that would properly sink in, lending Ămileâs thoughts to concern over the other manâs inherent lack of self-preservation and caution. Not that he had any footing to stand on, so to speak, but his sense of empathy did have a nasty habit of turning him into a hypocrite of sorts.
For now, it caused his smile to stretch ever upwards as Ămile tried his best to calm his racing heart; not that his nerves were clear in his expression or body language. Nearly two decades worth of constant lying and hiding away made that all too easy. If anything, his body language remained wholly at ease.
     â Youâve shut yourself away, Lucio---I only came to offer you some much needed companionship during this trying time. â
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foxfiresfancyâ:
Aysha knows someoneâs coming when a handful of the foxes she was playing with scurry off in alarm. And when she turns, she finds a face that she had never expected to see again.
šĂmileâŠÂš The name sounds both foreign and familiar at the same time, like a word she forgot she knew. She hasnât seen him since high school, hasnât talked at length with him since he got caught stealing. She gives a small frown at the comment on rose petals. All of his theatrics felt tainted by his old trickery.
âWhat are you doing here?â
Once upon a time, the foxes tolerated his presence. Theyâd always loved Aysha most, but at the very least, they didnât disappear the moment he arrived.
Things are different now. Theyâre no longer a kitten and a fox, playing and bickering at odd intervals as children are wont to do.
     â I came to see you. â
His voice is softer now, even if the sudden shift in his tone might be regarded as insincere. If nothing else, sheâs actually looking at him, and there doesnât seem to be any anger in her tone or body language yet---but whether or not that means sheâll be open to a real conversation remains to be seen. So far, breaking up the tension with his typical dramatic nonsense had failed.
That doesnât make it any easier to be more plain about answering her question, and his eyes canât quite meet her own as he clarifies. Not something Ămile does very often even now, but hopefully that will make it all the more clear that heâs making an attempt.
     â I'm here to apologize. I canât possibly make up for all Iâve done, but you deserve far more than how we left things as teenagers, if youâre willing to speak with me. â
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