Shinsekai (新世界, lit. "New World" in English) is an old neighborhood located next to south Osaka City's downtown "Minami" area. The neighborhood was created in 1912 with New York as a model for its southern half and Paris for its northern half. At this location, a Luna Park amusement park operated from 1912 until it closed in 1923.
As a result of minimal redevelopment after World War II, the area has become one of Japan's poorest. Despite its negative image and commonly held reputation as Osaka's most dangerous area, Shinsekai boasts a colorful history and unique identity. At the beginning of the 20th century, the neighborhood flourished as a local tourist attraction showcasing the city's modern image. The centerpiece of the neighborhood was Tsutenkaku Tower, the "tower reaching to heaven".
Shinsekai's status as a dangerous area owes much to criminal activity that flourished in the decades before the 1990's. Though its elements of seediness and destitution are often highlighted, Shinsekai is also home to a large number of legitimate business outlets. It is the scene of low-cost restaurants, cheap clothing stores, cinemas, shogi and mahjong clubs, and pachinko parlors.
Shinsekai has several fugu (blowfish) restaurants, but the neighborhood's real culinary forte is kushi-katsu. The neighborhood abounds with kushi-katsu restaurants offering various kinds of meat, fish, and vegetables all breaded and deep fried on small sticks for around 150 yen each.
Shinsekai sits next to Tennoji Zoo, Tennoji Park, and the Osaka Municipal Museum of Art, to the east. To the south is Spa World and the now-closed Festival Gate, a compact amusement park built to rejuvenate Osaka's most run-down area. Instead of trying to blend the park into Shinsekai, its construction resulted in virtually barricading it from the surrounding neighborhood. As an amusement space, it was no match for nearby Universal Studios Japan.
Owned By:Kansai Serpents
Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2019 4:43 pm
His instinctive stance verified to be reliable, for she has arisen like an angel with newfound wings. A royal flush flashes on cheeks, colored in the daze that primes his sharp jawline. Gadget sighed in joviality, pinning a feather-light kiss to his neck where his Adam's apple bobs. Her love is reckless and impassioned, akin to inferno incarnate with curvity as fiery as an unquenchable flame. Fingertips travel from the clockwork thrum to taut byways, descending inch by inch simultaneously as calloused digits ascend, silken thighs bloom in need. Her own suggestion spurs haste, the vehicle roars to life and things truly begin to shift gears.
Poised repose pivots knees donning white fixings, angling previous interest toward him. "What do you fancy to bet then?" What she implies is: What could he stand losing?
Idly attention flits to his profile, utterly enraptured in what she witnesses. "Oh come on now, that's it? Heh. How about a kiss? I'd like.... well, when I win," prodding mirth instantly ignites a smile. "I'd like your shirt. It'd look really good on me~" What a view it'd bring into existence too! Eyne rove downward, arcing to the concave of his ideal physique. It isn't until they arrive at the familiar destination that rapt perception swerves, taking in the few souls roaming paver-paved pathways. Neon lights awaken the locale, flooding half-lidded scrutinization with kaleidoscopic prisms.
Gadget ushers the aperture open, swinging her weight and planting treks upon welcoming earth. She prevails, bending at the waistline fully to both adjust and promptly initiate the wearable devices. So eagerly saccharine dessert presents itself, daintily wrapped in a red ribbon begging to be torn asunder. Curtly coy grin flowers, visage reemerges and knowing: "Enough window shopping, Daddy." Tone is sarcastic but came out too yearning, white-hot confessional honeyed on her tongue. Cacophony holds it's own breath, had she hit a sweet spot? Cupid's profound bow strung, wrenching at youthful dimples.
Wheels roll, heaven's fallen gliding lithesome. "Where do you want the finish line to be?" Pendulum hips influence the melodic beat, accentuating metronome ticking. All movement comes to an abrupt halt, the faded crosswalk would be where they start. She cants her head, carefully adjusting one leg so she can push off hurriedly. "So have you considered where you wanna kiss?" Devious seraphic offers more than an innocent partaking.
"GO!"
Considerable friction reverberates, the stronghold of alloy and plastic push back, propelling her forward fast. Pleated garment sails, bestowing picturesque viewing to curious strangler.
Wanton gazes bearing laser focus do not go unnoticed, lips curling mischievously into fanged bow as he reaches for her thigh; clutching or tracing patterns along skin that grew slippery with dewy perspiration as frolicking fingertips ventured near sheer panty line. Muscular quads even go so far as to shift a little; bulging imprint against denim pushed to the max for voyeuristic pleasure and firther examination.
"Hrmmm... what do I want? How about your phone number?" Plenty of carnal images and deviant suggestions flash, a familiar voice chiming in with it's typical two cents; yet he oddly settles for something more tame... something she immediately takes note of; even going so far as to rectify transgression.
How about a kiss? sweet lyrical hymn was the jackpot; a libidinous introduction that would suck them both down the rabbit hole of madness.
"You got it! But... I get to decide how long it lasts. Then ya got yourself a deal babycakes." If events progressed with the devil's sinful intentions, both shirts would be gone with the wind anyways.
Gripping upon slick inner flesh roughly, speeding vehicle makes a sharp right turn before they slow to a gradual halt. This time shamelessly roving hand refuses to budge however, devilish smirk bearing bold and brave tidings.
"So... what are the chances that I get a quick kiss beforehand? Think of it is a sneak preview; or maybe one for good luck? If ya think about it, we could both use some luck right now ~" Of course not, but who the hell would blame him for trying?
Honey sweet seraph slips from corruptive grasp just as quickly as she had cozily settled in; waist bending to hike skirt in a prolonged peep session in which he makes no attempt to hide face fully enwraptured; hypnotized even by the view of plentiful thighs that connected to plump rear that essentially swallowed the fabric between.
Grab it.
Elusive subconscious figure suggests, sneaking it's way past inebriative barrier in such heated intensity. Temptation tells Aidon to take the risk, but wisely he decides to wait.
I can booty grab later, hang on.
Back and forth the fate bound twain continue to bicker, until finally coveted object of affections interjects with a piping hot take that causes him to bite his lip, gaze intensifying as breath hitches in chest and heart skips wildly off beat.
"Shoulda grabbed it." Mumbled under his breath after distance separates pert cheeks; blissfully unaware that fine tuned auditory system can here even the most silent of words spoken.
Forearm delves into the space behind seats, fishing free rucksack carrying the essentials for their very first date. Old and marred Air Treks are slipped on and laced up; once glossy surface scraped rough and dull with several cracks in the enamel. Wire kept handy and leather gloves donned, musclebound legs push off towards the line where their journey began; one that would last much longer than either could ever expect.
"Hrmmm... how about we make a loop? From here to the next stop light, then make a left. Then to the next stop light, then another left. And so on until we end up back here. First one to touch my car wins?" Aforementioned pilgrimage was essentially a trip around the entire hood.
They were in sync, tuned and on the same page as the wheels on his trecks began to rev; engine coughing and sputtering to life in audible proclamation of already obvious wear and tear.
Have you decided where you wanna kiss? His grin only widens at the remark, and as far as Greed was concerned she was as good as his as soon as they crossed that finish line; regardless of who made it first.
Form folds into predatory crouch, and upon Gadget's mark they both fly forward; Though the larger of them pulls back, if ever so slightly. Still hot on her tail... He was also hot for her tail, and was quite content to start the dash by... sizing up his competition, so to speak. At least... something was being sized up, as he attempts to take a guess at glorious globes' circumfrence. Though consistently trailing he is never far, always right behind and never lagging by more than arm's reach.
Amazing Forward Special Location: Rank: F | Stamina: 1 | Passive This basic ground technique is used for pursuit, done with the intention of aligning and then fitting oneself in the direct path behind a rider ahead. Despite its simplicity, the trick allows users to hone in and aim better with run disrupting maneuvers. Even if the ahead rider turns the user can remain aligned with them as long as they are at a close or mid ranged distance behind.
ccuppajo
Posted: Sun Mar 03, 2019 10:43 am
Shoulda grabbed it.
Yes. Shoulda, coulda!
Melic candor dwindles in accord. She, languishing beside newfound companion, sky drenched in neon evenfall. The agreement sealed by a nod and they were off, accelerating as momentum is gained. Shifting fair comportment, hallowed gaze scythes crisp-cut stars underneath heavy lids, umbra centers devouring him wholly upon offering a candid twirl. Moonwalk gliding puts her in front of him at arm's reach, updrafts of wind billowing risen skirt and pink tresses. Hardly noticeable in the city’s glow, the streets ghost-ridden and only the inquisitive peer from their gloomy corridors to perceive unbridled affection.
"Tell me," breast heaving, raw, and gutted at the certainty of it all. "Tell me where? A kiss on the cheek wouldn't suffice."No, it certainly would not in any century. "The lips?"
Naivety is the lull that disembarks down the reckless length of the dainty frame, an apparent comparison shown the proximity of towering stature. Digits pry at buttoned-up seam, halidom and heart unsheltered and windswept. Daringly curvity was fingered, grazed to produce gooseflesh along pert embonpoint. Enrapt in the details, he offers the woman—of lithe grace and sanguine heartbeats—eyne crafted for tempting. It's to him she offers radiance, ivory canine seizing cherry-swollen plump.
"Here? Or...."
Gadget slants, rolling heels arcing at the first corner with him in tow. She glimpses over a shoulder and back again, devoted ministration continues southward. Lower, lower still. The bloom of her touch ruptures violently a breathless rush of irreligious warmth, fervent disciple knowing lubricious, the seed-bearing apple of thy eye; she spies the corroded envy in every tender pluck.
"Here, Aidon?"
Gentle as they are serpentine, twinned stoking undeniably invigorated by voyeurism, though rough. Unvarnished, unadulterated; something fierce and smitten by her dire lack of sober tenderness. Upheaved, glitter gilt reflects brightly lit luminescence, liquid secretion that is attractive to pollinator and fervently edacious betwixt suckling maw. It was irresistible, like the smell of ambrosia. Chin lifted a subtle note, petals POP—
"Or maybe, jus' maybe, you'll allow me a taste?"
Rounding the second corner, they neared the final league of their sojourn. Instantly bodice encounters brick, whorling wheels rev despite the lack of ground. There was something dangerous about not touching, the moment before contact. Infernal and rosebud delicacy pliant in loving affairs has no qualms finding herself between a rock and a hard place. Boiling within kindred spirits: a hunger primordial, the testimonial to carnal vivacity. Mayhap she was a queen once, in her own merit, and presided over earthy garden like a callous regent, damning the dead in corresponding measure as he. Feasibly, she could be again. Thicket lashes dip and bow to the weight of a blink, languid in repose, gawking at obvious indulgence resurrected unto her. Relentless impulse ushers commentary, weighted emission simpering on plush pout rearing ‘against the fat of her lips. <******** me you are hot."
The reverence of palms pulls at taut flesh, pathways carved from malleable steel and covered in silken sweat. Gadget lifts the hefty fabric, constraining it with one hand to his chest as the other follows diverging trenches that lead to hooking too tight textile. "It's only fair I get a peek." One; strumming tug frees the clasp and she whimpers, aggravated by the work. Two; serrated aperture parts, bestowing ample clearance to investigate impertinently. Three; beholden study deviates, vying attentiveness wholeheartedly admires carnality wrought facet.
"Just the tip?" The insinuation of debauchery, treks tip-toe the ground, hoisting herself up to lavishly caress agape jowls, sweeping shell-pink tongue ardently over the expanse. Forthwith, nonetheless, she strikes the stalled front wheel of his A-Ts, instantly the rotating back wheel hails paved path and propels him to his well-defined backside.
Troy has fallen.
Gadget wastes not but a second swerving into an alleyway in rapid sprinting, wheels resonate, acceleration prompted helter-skelter. It isn't the attuned sound filtered, he was already making headway in tentative approach. How?!
They are raving bulls straight out the gate; wild and reckless looking to live as fast as they move. She shifts his stick from first to fifth gear; lush and flooded Shangri-La revealed in an exhibition for the ages that steadily raises flagstaff on high; boiling blood bumping to the beat of Gadget's music of choice; though it slowly fades into the background.
The universe passes by as a non existent blur; cosmos in it's entirety such an irrelevancy when faced with such pressing issue and irresistible beckon. Come hither screamed from every ion in the energy that composed her, reservation in it's entirety was cast into the void of nonexistence as he slams into her on the next turn, pinning them both against the wall. Pressed tight against dewy and scorching perfection, olympian sculpted perfection molds to his goddess. He was Aidon and this was his Kore; The queen that would aid him in laying claim to the heavens, the underworld, and everything upon planes between.
<******** me you are hot.
Aggressive conquistador wastes no breath in acquisition this time around, curious intruders delving deep into a land liberally lathered in divine ambrosia; primary branches of exploration set a steady pace, husky exhalation hot against her neck as free hand seeks to climb singular snowy peak; pinching playfully upon successfully reaching it's summit.
"How about... Everywhere?"
Growled roughly as dominating hand plunges particularly deep, quivering response only fuel to stoked fires. Far be it from him to prevent Kore incarnate from claiming the pound of flesh that is owed... or maybe it was more than a pound? She'd be the judge of that anyways, as interlocking teeth strain at tent's zenith before relenting and rapidly unfurling.
Just the tip?
At that heaving ribcage is forced to whimper, response coming in lust drunk haze. He wanted all of her; here and now, in this dim alley against it's grungy brick wall... ******** all to the surroundings. But the tip wasn't a bad start.
Leaning in expectantly; balance and poise is non existent when jeans and undergarments are around thighs entirely. There is a loud and meaty thud as his a** makes direct contact with concrete. I think she just bruised my ********' tailbone...
Hastily scrambling to his feet after barking out a breathless laugh, Greed hastily takes action in ensuring this race was in the bag.
If we're gonna cheat, I might as well go hard in the paint.
Hurriedly cloaking himself in an electromagnetic field of illusion, a doppleganger assumes natural position of desperately dashing to catch back up to devious damsel. The signals of each illusion are even bounced from nearby signal tower beacon; aiding in the realistic movement of smoke and mirrors. He however, leaps high to grab the ledge of a nearby roof. Hauling himself to the top, Greed puts on a burst of vicious speed as strength gathered within bunching quads sends him hurtling over several rooftops; legitimately flying through the air with hang time like a falcon before it's final dive. Treks alight upon a roof dozens of yards from the starting jump, before the feat is performed once more and he finally alights back upon the concrete.
Nearly see through figure had effectively cut the distance of their total remaining circuit in half, and could see the finish line only a handful of yards away. [2/3]
Alpha Electromagnetic Illusion x2: The beginner Rising Road rider makes use of very simple illusionary type tricks, using their understanding of electromagnetic waves to create visual effects. The user will make use of their air treck's engine and battery in combination, expelling from their body outward a very simple illusion. The Rising Rider's waves affect those in the visual range, making it seem as though they are what they aren't. At the lowest level of usage, a rider can only hold this charade in their position. Only with the introduction of some metallic beacon in their arsenal can they expand upon the range of their beginner trick. This is a D Class trick.
ccuppajo
Posted: Wed Mar 06, 2019 10:04 am
Untamed and scented by sunshine, she, utterly inthralled by eternal perdition's sovereign everlastingly. Calloused hands shell the residual effort from inspiring intoxicant, barely forgone; instantly urgent saccharine tone betrays a soliloquized confession: <********> Maybe this was how it should have transpired. Yes."Yes, hah!"
Addiction's fidget, stirring ardor and raven'd in a dance of libertine impulses, produces rampant and profane chords. Undulated seas hailing the wayward, cast into the desired depths of sheltering heat but she was not so eager to be charmed by a devil. Absolution evaded him, if only temporarily. A dulcet hum thrumming in her throat all the while, punctuated by a smile which curves in an auric indulgence. He guffaws and she, too, indulges in jocularity.
Arrogance rung in the clank of her Air Treks against the frigid stone in staggering devotion. Half-present reception shed to the heinous invader of her shadow's breadth, a thunderous cacophony of treads imbuing quiescent airs. It doesn't register that reverberations and clattering alloy were byproducts of ricocheting resonance, and not of the faux physique rushing onward. Black wheels tarnish the pristine concrete Eden with bold viciousness wrought in every strengthened footfall. Yet, the closer the sleek vessel comes into view, the hazier her actual existence becomes. Comprised of soft lineation, breathless breast uplift. Glittering eyne and teethed grin dashed with unruly pink tresses whipped across canvas.
She had won! Or so she naively thought!
Caressing hands usher her unto him, an evident confusion given his trailing behind her, and yet, here he was. Sun-kissed contours make an artful abstraction of her; she exhibited, perhaps, softer in gilt glow. Pause as she weighs the following sequence of events, crease assembling betwixt defined brows.
Bubbly mirth leaves rosy lipt; hybridism of glee and a scoff. "Cheater," Gadget incredulously chimes, timbre only an octave above a undertone.
Primed anatomy nestles in the crook of a single-minded stronghold, leaning forward wielding a ferocious sum and substance. Digitus roving along chiseled jawline, raking jet locks to perch against shifting shoulder blades. It's hard to tell where she ended, and he began, their physicality blurring into one entity. A plethora of questions mounted upon her impatient tongue, though coyly partook in headlong collision with his, ultimately forgotten like logical reasoning for why this adds up to a terrible idea.
Whirring wheels cut rapidly back and forth in time with quadricep movement; the hood of famed finish line no more than an arm's length away. Victory had never tasted so sweet... And no doubt was there ever a prize coveted that tasted ever so much sweeter.
Reaching the finish line with copious moments to spare, rapidly shifting musculature veers entire body to the side; wheels parallel with the car's fron as he skids to screeching halt less than a foot away. Turning broad back to decked out Mclaren, Aidon hops up to find seated perch on the hood; still cloaked but ready and waiting.
From current position rapidly rocketing vixen could be seen approaching at a furious pace; one unexpectedly backstopped by adamant stronghold as she enters the forked space between denim coated columns dangling idly over embossed alloyed grill. The force of collision drives breath from pectorals with an audible huff, but embrace retains it's stalwartness even as camouflage is dropped.
Knowing verdant gaze downcast to meet upturned gilded halos; he smiles widely at the accusation. Split lipt corners nearly reaching each corresponding ear from excitement before husky throat rumbles it's low and thick response.
"So the pot felt like callin' the kettle black?"
There was a madness dancing behind emerald panes like raging wildfire; one that currently held curvature was one hundred and ten percent responsible for. Whatever witty response may have been becomes lost in undercurrent as grasping palms wreath below pleated textile; taking a firm and bountiful handful of each cheek before yanking cherubim grace onto the throne she claims as rightful heir.
Lock lipt passion ensues, breath lost in coupling with any sort of further iteration as his tongue finally grows intimately acquainted with opposite that had teased oh so roundly only minutes before. Siren song sings sweet surrender as Aidon feels Gadget mold into him; pronounced curvity fused to whipchord taut frame even as he slides off of the glossy hood and transfers them to the front seat without issue.
It is here that shameless travels begin in earnest; a promise marked only moments ago soon to be made good on. A sworn oath spoken from insatiable lips to hospitably greet every inch of silken alabaster within current hold, and he'd waste no time in beginning. Even as opposite branches curl and flex to struggle against fly bearing strained zipper, zealous petals move from lips to jawline, fleshy pink vessel carving an enthusiastic path against rapidly throbbing jugular that leaves it coated in glossy sheen.
Take it off. Get it all off. Start with the bra.
Heated impulsive commands come upon the wave of inner dialogue known all too well at this point; Though for now, he couldn't help but give in. Not as calloused tips rake their way up from gracious booty. Up they hike past flaring hips and pronounced curve of lower back; countenance buried in gasping bosom as fingers tug at elusive clasps.
Maddened maw bestows bites, licks, and kisses; no stretch of satin perfection left untouched even as pesky red garment is finally removed and Aidon at last gets an eyeful of twin globes heaving in their dewy perfection; still slick with perspiration from their prior dash. hardened pink summit taken between jaws and ardently nursed, sultry moan vibrates over current pacifier as forceful bump and grind begins at gung ho pace. Hydraulics shift, car horn unintentionally blaring several times over with enough volume to wake the neighbors as their wanton pace rapidly accelerates. Exposed skin gliding against skin in slick taboo exchange; they ride an edge together that would utterly ruin them both if they let it... Or mayhaps it would be their salvation? Anything could happen in the grand scheme.
"Lemme put it in? I promise it'll be a wild ********' ride baby."
Commanding growl was little more than a plea on behalf of yearning that ached deep however. In this moment, she invokes lust with enough temptation to drive Hades himself to the darkest pits of lunacy. Greed needed to be inside her like he needed oxygen. In fact, he'd gladly trade in hours of the latter for even a few paltry minutes of the former. [3/3]
The beginner Rising Road rider makes use of very simple illusionary type tricks, using their understanding of electromagnetic waves to create visual effects. The user will make use of their air treck's engine and battery in combination, expelling from their body outward a very simple illusion. The Rising Rider's waves affect those in the visual range, making it seem as though they are what they aren't. At the lowest level of usage, a rider can only hold this charade in their position. Only with the introduction of some metallic beacon in their arsenal can they expand upon the range of their beginner trick. This is a D Class trick.
ccuppajo
Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2019 8:26 pm
Laggardly and with a heavy-eyed, sated visage, she leans in further.
"Maybe I-?"
Conquest-driven touch was harsh against her back, wrapped around her frame like a vice. Moistened and ruddy red are saccharine petals yet unnamed. In the breadth of a moment, his yearning becomes hers, mirrored in such a way that the reflection splinters into multiplicity; the intensity harder around the edges, sharper at the line of his jaw, the furrow of her brow. She hears the hum of shamelessness through the carnal heart of articulation, which itself is an extension of the soul. Perhaps this was why both were without words, divulging language in the smooth, slick spaces of venereal carving. Yielding fevered soughs accommodating reluctant breaths, locked in her throat, captured by the vacancy of his lips.
BEEEEEEPPPPPPP! BEEP BEEP!
"Off... ********> Deft digits encompass diabolical mechanism, drawing flawless composition hard to the warm fortress of her physique. He ghosts a hand over the divots of her spine, pads spaced equidistantly as if positioned over the frets of an instrument.
What tune does she sing? "Aidon..."
She, dressed in all the rings of past fatalities, pries chaffing string from curvity and drops it at the wayside. Tension rippling below the primed sheath, she finds his entirety to be a crashing wave of stress that coiled solid musculature into a tangle of anxious knots. Graciously she savors the sacrifice and rives raw marrow, whimpering slurs of vulgarity baptized in possession. The masterpiece below her thrummed, anticipating her return with as little patience as its creator. What could be taking him so long?
Ah!
Wanton pleas do not go unnoticed: "Not here, baby. Maybe... your place?"
Gadget preferred to indulge in such passions behind closed doors; it would do them no good at all to be blindsided, caught unawares in the midst of mind-numbing PDA… however pleasurable voyeurism may be. Only a subtle simper rumbled from poised relief, professing so much more than mortal words could hope to convey whilst stoking the flame in her hand. Soon. Whenever he strayed, she'd find the center in him and restore it to a tranquil state that dared to pulse, to thrive.
"Keep your eyes open." As she spoke, she spread her palm in deceptive invitation but her thumb remained on the trigger, an idle caress. Impulsively, Gadget dragged her lower lip through her teeth, mischief lurking in the gilded depths of her gaze. As long as she could remember, she'd had a habit of playing with her food before she ate it... it's no different now. Tending to spilt saccharose, pink grazes, lapping up ruination before slipping back into its humid domain.
