#and it's dreary out so the view isn't even nice

[true-blue-sonic]

I should answer asks in the train more often, time always flies by when I do🚀

[setagaya-division]

There was only just a few minutes until the end of a certain girl’s birthday in the city of Setagaya, currently Mina Nakayama had just finished going through opening yet another birthday gift and was onto the next one. The next gift came in two packages wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper, one bigger than the other, Mina decided to open the big present first, revealing…

A beautiful painting of a blood moon in a forest setting.

After admiring the quality craftsmanship of the painting for a minute, she set it down and picked up the second gift to open it, revealing…

A collection of bat shaped fairy lights.

Along with both gifts came a card.

‘Happy Birthday, Nakayama-san

Even though you’re in high school and I’m in university, I still wish to thank you for everything that you’ve done, my gifts aren’t much but I hope you like them, happy birthday once again.

— Kureha Koizumi’

Happy Birthday Mina! 🧡

"Sick!" Yorii stated, looking at the lights that were now in display in Mina's room. "We should definitely use these to decorate our house for Halloween this year."

"...I'll think about it, Yorii." Mina said. Yorii wasn't wrong to like the lights, however. As even Mina, herself, found them a welcome addition to her room. Even though she didn't spend much time in here, even she could find it a bit dreary and boring at times. So having something as nice as lights to put up was a welcome addition.

"I'm serious, Mina. These lights would look really nice on Spooky Night!" Yorii stated, trying to get his sister to agree, until he looked over at his older brother. "What do you think, El?"

However, the boy in question wasn't listening. And if he was, he didn't respond, as he was too busy staring at the picture that Kureha had painted, his eyes glazed over as he stared.

"El? You okay, Bro?" Yorii asked, only to, again, be met with no response. Even Mina was starting to get worried about her brother.

"Uhm, if you like Elliot, I can put it up in the hallway for everyone to view." Mina said, placing a hand on Elliot's shoulder, which seemed to snap him out of his trance.

"Huh? Oh, uhh... n-no, that's okay, Mina-oneesan." Elliot answered, before looking back at the painting. "But... Kureha-chan is a really gifted artist, isn't she?"

"That she is, Elliot." Mina said, looking at the painting, a soft smile forming on her face. "That she is."

[magmahearts]

TIMING: current PARTIES: @amonstrousdream, @muertarte, & @magmahearts LOCATION: downtown wicked's rest SUMMARY: while out for a walk on a dreary day, metzli and leila run into cass, who isn't her usual perky self. CONTENT: none

The clouds glided in the sky overhead, gifting the area with shade. A kind of reprieve that only a vampire could appreciate. Tossing the umbrella aside, Metzli took Leila on a walk. Their arms were linked as they strode around the town, the quiet a calm breeze among the crowds of people going about their days. They liked it that way, and it was nice to not be required to be anything extra. Leila never asked Metzli to be more than they were, to play a role they didn’t read a script for.

It was a rare thing that they clung onto. Doing the same when Honey offered them their freedom and never once telling them they were existing incorrectly. In fact, she would tell Metzli the world hadn’t experienced them enough. Not the other way around. They thought perhaps that was why they took to Leila so easily. Honey had been a clear example on who they could enjoy and trust, and while their girlfriend was by no means like their friend, they shared the nature of empathy. A trait that wasn’t always so readily available to people like Metzli, both to evoke and to be given, but they tried.

“Is nice day.” They muttered, staring at the sky as the pair walked together. Eyes were fixated on a particularly odd-shaped cloud. To think, a few years ago, spending time outdoors like that was forbidden. None of that mattered anymore, though. Metzli was free.

For most people, a cloudy sky that mottled the world in shades of gray was the worst sort of day. Clouds often meant a storm was on the way. Clouds blotted away blue skies and stole the warmth of sunshine. But for the pair walking about arm in arm, a cloudy day was, the clouds were a refuge. Leila didn’t need to worry about the sunlight making her skin shimmer, nor the rays of the sun burning Metzli. They were safe. Two normal people enjoying the cool and shade before whatever weather might blow through.

She followed their gaze up towards the sky. A crooked smile crept onto her face as she watched the artist taking in the sky. It was as if the sky was new and extraordinary. A piece of her wondered, in all of those years that Metzli had been trapped with their master, how much they had been able to look up and take in the beauty of the world around them… Leila didn’t need to ponder that question too long. She knew the answer without having to ask. All she could be was thankful that their partner could look up as much as they wanted to now. However, she had the better view, she was sure of it. The sky and Metzli “Beautiful.” 

She was so distracted by her view that she didn’t see the girl headed straight towards her until it was too late. Someone crashed straight into the pair before Leila had a chance to really think.

It was cloudy, which meant there were less people on the streets than usual. Normally, this would be something of a disappointment. Cass liked people, after all, liked to be around them. But lately…

It was stupid, but it felt as if everyone who looked at her knew what had happened. Like they could all tell, somehow, like it was written all over her face, like the blood was still on her hands. She’d scrubbed them until the skin was raw, burned through them with her magma, but she swore she could still see Debbie’s blood under her fingernails. Like it was a permanent part of her glamour now, something she could never shake. Maybe it should be. You shouldn’t be allowed, she thought, to do something like that and get away with it. You shouldn’t be allowed to throw a girl’s body into a pit so deep you couldn’t see the bottom and walk down the street like it was normal. Like you were normal.

She didn’t even know why she was walking. Maybe she just needed to get away from Gatlin Fields, from her cave that was a little too close to the pit where Debbie’s body was already rotting. In any case, she wasn’t looking where she was going; something that became obvious when she plowed right into a pair of people, stumbling backwards. 

Looking up, she recognized one of the two, and logic dictated that the woman holding Metzli’s hand was probably the same ‘friend’ who’d messaged her about the thrift shop. Immediately, shame rose up in the back of Cass’s throat, tasting like sand on her tongue. “Sorry,” she muttered, ducking around the pair to go on her way. Metzli already disliked her enough already, despite the promise she’d bound them to. She didn’t want to make it worse by interrupting their day, by inserting herself somewhere where she was neither wanted nor needed.

Something akin to a scowl began to form on Metzli’s face until they saw who they ran into. Cass, while they hated how she had some sort of control over them, wasn’t so bad. Misguided, if anything. Solitude had a way of skewing one’s views, and with the power to make deals, Metzli figured it was only in her nature to use it. She hadn’t even forced them to do anything for her as of late. 

This, combined with her apology, inclined Metzli to forgive the interruption immediately. Anything past that would be apt to ruin their day though, so they tried to hurry any interaction the trio could possibly have. Especially while Cass looked so…sad. Metzli’s gut told them Leila would force them to stop, but maybe, just maybe, they could persuade her to continue without digesting Cass’s expression. 

“Is fine, Cass. Not upset.” Metzli tugged Leila forward in hopes of continuing their walk. Unsurprisingly, they were met with resistance, forcing a sigh to escape. The possibility of small talk was strong, and Metzli had to choke down a grumble. As much as they loved Leila, they wished her heart didn’t extend so much. But they supposed that’s what they loved about her, too. Unlike them, her empathy wasn’t swiped from her. It only grew stronger with her persistence.  

They recognized each other… 

The mare had grown very good at reading people over her two hundred years. The girl who had crashed into the pair ducked her head, as if she was ashamed to have been seen. Like she was just trying to disappear… like Leila had so often done. And then, Metzli spoke a name that up until that point, she had only seen on a screen. Cass. The girl from the cave… The girl who was living in a cave and had… coerced? tricked? forced? Metzli into a friendship. She didn’t move forward when the vampire started walking again. Instead, she stood watching the Cass girl as she tried to duck around and walk away.

She gave Metzli’s arm a little squeeze, a silent apology before speaking. “You’re Cass?” She took a step in the other direction, following the girl. “I still have those shirts for you…” Leila tried to think of any excuse to keep the girl there, and that had seemed the best choice. Superhero shirts. She’s a child, practically… So young… She didn’t want to scare the poor thing off, but there was something wrong… She could tell with one look at the girl’s face. Though as to what it was, she wasn’t sure…

“Sweetheart, are you alright…?”

Metzli seemed content to move along, because of course they were. They’d made it pretty clear that, without coercion or force, they had no desire to be anywhere near Cass. And who could blame them? Even before the supermarket, Cass wasn’t the kind of person people liked. Her own people hadn’t wanted her around, couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. How could she expect anyone else to feel any differently? Especially now, with the blood on her hands and the ash on her tongue. The only reason Nora, Van, Thea, and Ren wanted to hang out with her was the promise bind she’d talked them all into, and Metzli was the same. If not for her ability to force people into being her friend, she’d be just as alone as she had been when she’d been dropped off on the mainland all those years ago.

But Metzli’s friend didn’t know that yet. She’d only spoken to Cass once, had been too concerned about the cave to realize that the girl living in it wasn’t someone worth worrying about. She was still trying to give Cass t-shirts, still trying to help her, and Cass deserved it even less now than she had before, was even worse than she’d been in the beginning. Was this how things were going to go forever? She’d just keep getting worse and worse for however long she lived, adding more and more blood to the stains Debbie had left on her hands, in her soul? The thought of it made her nauseous. The fact that Leila knew none of it and wanted to help made it worse.

Leila asked if she was okay, and as much as Cass wanted to lie, she knew it would be obvious. She’d never gotten good at hiding the ill effects fae tended to suffer when they attempted to tell even small lies, and claiming to be fine when she felt like this? That was a big lie. A monumental lie, something unparalleled. So she said something true instead: “You don’t have to worry about it. I’m sorry I ran into you. I didn’t mean to interrupt your day.” Because that was all she’d ever done, wasn’t it? Interrupt people, inconvenience them. It was all she was good at.

Metzli began to grumble, letting go of Leila’s hand to pinch the bridge of their nose. Sure, Cass had swindled them into a friendship, but even worse, she reminded them of themself. She was lying, not to them, but to her own mind. She wanted comfort and needed people to care. Yet, she was trying to convince everyone that they could move on, that they could ignore her. She was doing it quite poorly, at that. 

The vampire could see past the facade, having used similar words before in their youth. When iron fists taught Metzli that the people that were supposed to fill a role they had signed up for, never would. Mother and father. They apologized for their own existence because the people at fault for it so clearly regretted every step that led to their birth. Metzli wasn’t sure what kind of past caused Cass to take a similar path of apology, but they knew they wanted to save her. It was selfish, really, and a double-edged sword. If they could save her, then it would prove they could’ve been saved, too. Only, no one ever came to their rescue. 

“Just speak your truth, idiot.” Metzli sighed, a perplexed look of frustration painted on their features. Mostly, they just looked confused and uncomfortable. They knew they had comforted incorrectly. They could feel it. “That…that is not comfort, is it?” The question was pointed more toward Leila, but Metzli looked at Cass, too. 

The girl was decidedly not alright. Her answer, avoidant and apologetic, was evidence of exactly that. Leila wondered how often that sort of answer had worked for Cass- how many times had she told people not to worry and to go on with their lives… and how many times had people listened? The mare frowned, scanning the girl up and down for anything obvious, but… no… no, she didn’t have any injuries. Leila felt silly- she was a stranger to the girl, and yet, here she was worrying and fussing like she’d known her for ages. 

Maybe that was what happened after all those years of loneliness: she couldn’t help but care immensely about the people who wandered into her life. 

Metzli’s words were… well, they were blunt, but they weren’t wrong. Cass’s words weren’t lies, but they were obviously not the truth. “... Not quite, but I think it was actually necessary in this case,” Leila replied quietly to her partner, her eyes flitting around for somewhere to sit and talk- or at the very least somewhere a little bit more private to stand than the middle of the sidewalk. “It was an accident, it’s alright… But do you need help? Or to talk? It wouldn’t be a bother… Like I told you before, if you need anything…”

There were two very different brands of comfort taking place; Metzli’s blunt attempt at convincing Cass to put a voice to her problems, and Leila’s gentle reassurance that she was free to do it if she needed to. Both felt warm. Both felt suffocating. It was funny; all Cass had ever wanted was for someone to ask her if she was okay and care about the answer. Now she had two people doing just that, and everything in her screamed that they were lying to themselves and to her. They didn’t care if she was all right because they couldn’t, because no one could. If Cass were the kind of person people loved, someone would have done it by now. She knew that. 

She swallowed the tears that sprung to her eyes, her throat aching with the weight of them. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if she weren’t this messed up, hodge podge, magazine cutout collage of a person, she wouldn’t be able to tell them what was going on. She’d made a promise, and she was bound to it. In order for it to be amended, everyone would have to agree. And Cass couldn’t ask that of them. She couldn’t ask them to put themselves in danger for her comfort. Not when her comfort had never been worth pursuing for anyone. 

“I don’t need anything.” Her stomach clenched so badly with the lie that she nearly doubled over. The truth was so much more pathetic: I don’t know what I need. Or maybe what I need is too big for anyone to ever give me, or what I need is so much more than what I deserve. “I can’t — I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bothering you, for — For making you feel like you have to —” Her throat was tight, her lungs strangely empty as if the air around them wasn’t enough, as if nothing was. “I’m sorry. You were having fun, and I ruined it. That’s — I do that, but I don’t mean to. I don’t.” 

Instinct took over, eyes softening and body going forward the moment Cass bent at the obvious illness that took over when she lied. Metzli hated lies, but they couldn’t be angry when they could both not feel the anger and they understood the way Cass was mostly lying to herself. “You do not have so much power to ruin happiness.” Metzli stiffened just as they finished their sentence, realizing that when they reacted, they had wrapped their arms protectively around Cass. 

They let go and backed away as quickly as they could, stuttering awkwardly. “S-sorry. Not mean to—I…Leila?” Metzli rubbed the back of their neck and they quickly retrieved the fidget cube they were gifted for moments like then. When they felt the pinpricks beginning to sting at the tips of their fingers and a ringing filled their ears. Their thumb rolled the small joystick on one of the sides, clicking every so often when they pushed down. When they refocused enough, they looked back toward Cass and sighed. 

“Girl,” Metzli called to Cass, gesturing a hand toward themself, and then to Leila. “Maybe not talk about what happen, but maybe we get sweets. She is good at picking.” If anything, a good distraction always helped. Metzli was alone when they found theirs. They had to be. It wasn’t like their parents enjoyed the fact that they wasted their time on something that made them happy like drawing. 

Metzli was hugging the girl. 

Leila watched it happen, as if the vampire was taken over by pure instinct. She watched their eyes go soft, watched them rush forward and gather the girl up and hug her tight before speaking. And their words… well, she couldn’t have said it better herself. There was a pang in her chest, a little fluttering hop of a dead heart too filled with emotion for it’s own good. The moment ended suddenly, but the feeling remained. Later, when the girl had gone, when it was only her and Metzli once more, she would tell them she was proud. 

Metzli focused on their cube for a moment and Leila slipped in, taking over whilst giving them time to ground themself and refocus. “They’re right… You didn’t ruin anything. And you certainly didn’t ruin our happiness… Now, as for whole ‘making me feel I have to’ bit,” The mare tilted her head, giving the girl a look that all but said Don’t be silly, dear before leaning in, her voice low and conspiritorial. “I am an ancient old lady who enjoys helping people. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t offer.” She winked. 

Her attention swivelled back towards Metzli when they spoke once more. The mere mention of sweets was enough to make her mouth water and her eyes go wide. Even though she had taken to feeding every couple of days, sugary things kept the edge off of that gnawing want that came with the scent of sleepy humans and daydreams. “Ice cream.” It took her all of two seconds to blurt out a thought. Leila’s eyes flicked back towards Cass. “Do you like ice cream? There’s a very good ice cream parlor nearby. Every flavor you could think of, plus more. And they do not skimp on toppings.”

If she was being honest, Cass could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d been hugged in her life. Hands had been used to hurt her far more often than they’d been used to comfort her, but she didn’t flinch when Metzli approached. In spite of the fact that she knew the vampire wouldn’t speak to her at all if not for the words that bound them, she trusted Metzli. If Metzli hurt her, it probably meant she deserved it. 

But… that wasn’t what they did. Instead, they wrapped their arms around her in a way she’d longed for all her life. It was impossible not to sink into the embrace, and impossible not to miss it when Metzli pulled away. But she didn’t protest all the same, didn’t ask for that gentle touch to return. It was clear that Metzli needed a moment; Cass could understand that.

Leila was nice, too. Cass didn’t know her well beyond the online conversation that she’d cut short after the supermarket fiasco, but it was clear that she really did care. Or… that she really thought she cared. Cass knew better than to believe it would last, even if Leila wasn’t human. She’d been abandoned by just as many shifters and undead as she had fae, over the years. They all seemed to agree on one thing — that Cass was too human for the supernatural crowd, and too supernatural for the human crowd. In between was a terrible place to be. 

But she’d gotten good at enjoying things while they lasted, too. And she did love sweets. “I like ice cream,” she said quietly. Humiliatingly, she found that she was struggling not to cry at the offer. Like someone she’d literally forced into friendship and their girlfriend offering to get ice cream with her was the same thing as being genuinely loved, like she was stupid enough to think this would be happening at all if Metzli hadn’t accidentally thanked her the first time they’d spoken. It was stupid. She was stupid. 

But she did want ice cream. 

The way Cass into Metzli didn’t go unnoticed. Had they been better at existing around others, at simply being a person, they might’ve lingered a little longer. It was as if their own childhood was tearing through and giving them a chance to alter the outcome of a life lived without love. But they were nothing, weren’t they? Most days, as much as they wanted to experience more than a void, they felt nothing.

In spite of this, Metzli knew they loved Leila and Honey, but it didn’t seem like enough despite what they were told. Nothing begets nothing, yet their loved ones constantly tried to dismantle that belief. Would it ever be torn apart into shred and tossed into the wind? Would that very wind blow it back to them and leave papercuts across their skin? Metzli, for a moment, thought perhaps that had already happened. Their body was marred, forever left with the marks of a life racing through pain.

But finally, they got to slow down. Sure, that child in them fell to their knees, broken and battered, but Metzli knew they needed to heal that kid, so…they picked them up. They were a reminder that every weed was still a flower. They just weren’t appreciated enough. It was still a life that needed affection and care, and it was okay to need those things. Cass was a weed, too. Artificial as it may be through their robot heart, Metzli pocketed their fidget cube and stepped forward. They decided to try.

“Ice cream, then. I buy.” Metzli offered their hand to Cass, knowing Leila wouldn’t mind. She’d likely hang close or nudge herself beneath their half-limb as they walked. In Metzli’s head, the idea looked parental…almost familial, in a way. They didn’t mind that.

She watched Metzli hold out their hand to Cass and her heart swelled with pride. Here was this person, her person, who had gone through so much. Who had suffered at the hands of others for so long and had the scars to count each encounter. And instead of letting another suffer, they held out their hand. They were trying. Leila wasn’t sure they saw it like that… but she did. 

Leila knew she wasn’t the one who could reach out- Cass didn’t know her save from their short lived DM conversation. So instead of trying to hug her or take her hand as well, she offered a smile of encouragement to the girl before pressing a kiss to Metzli’s shoulder on their half-limb side. If the girl wouldn’t have heard, she would have told them how proud she was. But for then a kiss would do to say what had not been said.

Ice cream was always a good solution to sadness. The amount of times she’s spent her death day eating ice cream and ignoring humanity were about as many as she what’d lived through. Leila knew that the cold dessert soothed pain. She just hoped it would start a conversation about whatever it was eating at the young woman’s heart. 

Metzli held out their hand, and normally, Cass would take it and consider it a victory. Normally, she’d feel like she’d accomplished something, like she’d finally managed to clear some invisible hurdle and make it another step closer to the friendship she craved so entirely. But today? With Debbie’s dead eyes seared into her mind and the promise she and the other girls had made to one another over that pit sitting heavy on her shoulders? Nothing felt victorious, nothing felt like an accomplishment, nothing felt good. 

So today, she hesitated. Only for a moment, only to see if that hand would be pulled back and yanked away like everything else always had been. But it stayed. It stayed within reach, and Cass had never been good at denying herself something she wanted even when she knew it was going to blow back on her, even when she knew it would hurt her in the end. Whatever friendship Metzli and Leila had to offer would be taken away eventually, because it always was. Everything always was. But would it be so terrible to cling to it while she could? Would it be so unforgivable? 

Slowly, she reached out and took Metzli’s hand. Her grip was weak enough that they could pull away if they wanted to, though considering the fact that they were a vampire, they’d probably be more than capable of doing that anyway. Still, it felt nice to offer them the choice. Especially considering she’d already taken choice from them once. (And was still taking it by not releasing them. She was selfish. She knew she was selfish. She knew it wasn’t a forgivable thing to be.) “Okay,” she agreed with a quiet sniff. “Yeah. We can go get ice cream.” It occurred to her that someone who saw them walking like this might mistake them for a family. It occurred to her that she might want them to.

Wishes weren’t something granted to people very much like the ones in the trio. Each of them taking careful steps so as to never impose on others. Whether it was an iron fist, loud mouths, or conditional and passive love, it all culminated into the same thing. Children who never felt love and dove quickly into whatever well they could find. Shallow, deep, or empty, it didn’t matter.

For Leila, she looked at broken things as if she could make them new. For Cass, she made herself into whatever she needed to be to be accepted. And Metzli? Well, they didn’t quite know yet. They’d been so preoccupied with being hollowed out for decades that they were simply soaking in whatever they could. Tossing out what didn’t work so they could plant the seeds of what did, and let them take root. And whenever Metzli handed the watering can that was their heart to others when they were ready, it would be a silent proclamation of love. They would give others full reign to leave them to dry or to help them bloom. That was the scariest part because the last time Metzli was forced to leave their heart in the hands of another, it was made to dust.

So when they offered their hand to Cass, they were deeming her worthy of their heart. Maybe she had taken their choice away, but only someone so desperate would use her power to do something so innocent as to force others to just be around her. Metzli finally truly understood her at that moment. All was forgiven and they tightened their grip around her hand. They didn’t want to let go anymore. 

[nightmareeyesandtrashmammals]

hey ponies!! i loved this prompt so much and I wrote like a first part, I might continue it (I probably will but ah well)

A dreary air fluttered across the Nullspace. Despair and anguish perforated along the gust as it seeped into his humble keep.

I'm talking about Death, of course.

While not the end all be all for existence as you may know it, death was still something mortals feared. The thought of awaking in a place of brimstone because of an arbitrary rule you broke while alive haunted many. Yet the thought of being graced with the light touch of angels enticed others.

Of course, neither are true. Death is an inevitability, to face it peacefully or not was up to those nearing the end of their mortal coil. 

Regardless, they wound up here. All things that live must die, and all things that die must face Nullspace. A disproportionate void of seemingly impossible oddities that seemed to fit in an equally small zone. To many, it was a wonder of scientific impossibility, to others just a minute detail.

Of course scientific thought held very little importance here. It was just Nullspace, after all.

For centuries, Death lay the dormant keeper of this realm, only characterized by a lone road, a path to non-existence and obliteration. He watched curiously as these mortals given 'free will' would wander aimlessly until they ceased all existence.

Yet some surprised him. One such soul stayed for a very long time. Sitting on nothing and pondering nothing, he stayed for years. Death would break his silence.

"What keeps you here, mortal?" His slow, gruff voice rang out across Nullspace, nearly shaking it to breaking. The soul would look up at nothing. Of course, Death had no form yet. Why would he? After years of dormancy he had only now awoke.

"Memories and prospects. All dumb worldly shit." The soul's voice rang out clear regardless of how quiet it spoke. 

Death whispered a word out and formed a vessel in front of the soul. 

A simple vessel, molded to the current human view of 'Death'. A skeletal mess of bones held thinly together by a veil of shadows and darkness.

"My apologies for such a... macabre form. It's the best I can manage from those passing by here." Death had muttered out from a mouth which seemed impossibly too small and too still to produce such a loud voice.

The soul nodded simply, "It's alright. Doing the best you can, what else can I ask of you-- hell, if I can even ask you that." He added with a small chuckle.

"So, what are these 'memories and prospects' you find so enticing as to stay in such a stagnant void of nothingness?" Death asked quite simply, words not lingering even a second longer than needed.

The soul pondered for a moment-- as he seemed to love doing, Death noted-- before speaking slowly.

"It's... really dumb honestly. In... uh- Life, I guess you'd say, we have this thing called a cafè." He started, catching himself on his words like a fish would get caught on a bait and hook. "Real cozy places, you walk in and order coffee from a pretty barista- the pretty part isn't a requirement mind you. Then sit down, wait and drink your coffee." He finished, as his hue shifted pinkish for a moment looking away from Death, clearly reminiscing on someone.

He looked once more at Death before starting up again. "It was nice... and I was just thinking, like... if this place is nothing doesn't that mean it can be anything? Maybe even a cafè?" He asked Death, who'd been observing silently. In a moment Death let out a sigh, his form shaking at the breath.

"I've never tried it, never thought about it much. You're the first soul to stay here, ever actually." He admitted as he looked away and towards the vast emptiness of Nullspace. "Would it hurt to try it?" The soul asked as he stepped up and stood beside them. Looking to the soul for a moment, Death raised a bony hand upwards, palm still splayed to face the ground. "I suppose not." He answered, another arm formed from seemingly nothing towards the soul. "Take my hand, I've never seen a... cafè before. I'll need some help." Death explained as the soul took his hand with little hesitance.

Death whispered another word, and a low rumble was heard consuming Nullspace, then shaking. The soul gripped on to Death's hand tighter, fear consuming him. "You're safe, don't worry." Death spoke softly, as if he could sense the fear in the soul.

In a moment, the familiar white void of Nullspace was shattered, like glass it all broke and flitted away into nothing. Leaving a black void to fill the space, but that also didn't last long. The rumbling grew deafening as defining features sprouted from nowhere within the dark. First came the floor, a deep burgundy, Mahogany no doubt, already painted with an impossibly shiny varnish. Second were the tables, carved  along the sides. Patterns and shapes that transferred to the chairs that arrived next, sprouted up like an impossibly fast to grow tree. Each seat was adorned with an unreasonably comfortable cushion, covered in a soft and plush fabric.

Next up was the main attraction, the countertops were made from polished marble and settled atop Spruce planks meticulously melded together. Glass appendages fell into place and lit up small plates decorated with pastries and sandwiches, not far behind metal, bolts, wires and a number of other materials formed to create espresso machines, coolers, heaters, electric mixers and the like. A shelf sprouted outwards carrying jars of coffee beans, cleanly labeled, the soul stared in amazement as the cafe slowly came together. He looked to Death and squeezed his hand tighter, if just to ensure to himself that he was really witnessing this, he whispered low “Woah…”

A low chuckle emanated from Death, as the cafe finished being built from nothing he faced the soul. “Is it to your liking?” he spoke calmly, allowing time for the other to settle into this new space. The soul stuttered out “W-Well. I mean yeah, this place looks… phenomenal!” as it slowly wandered through the new building. Curiously, the more it wandered the less it shined, instead it was slowly morphing into an accurate human shape. Amused, Death followed him around, showing the odds and ends he had constructed according to his image. 

He spoke quite simply after a few moments of silence, “What's the name?" he inquired. Death was taken aback for a moment, “What do you mean?” He only giggled in response “Yeah! A café this nice has gotta have a name!” he said, as if Death should have known it as a law of the universe. Instead, Death thought for a moment before speaking. “Why don’t you give it a name then?” he was taken aback, the sudden question throwing off his thoughts. He gave it some serious time though, sat pondering (again like Death expected him to) before he stood up and looked to Death.

“Why not call it Splitsoul cafe?”

That was part 1! I don't really know if I'll write a part 2 yet, again I probably will but either way i'll post some updates on occasion showing that i didn't get in a car accident.

You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.

[abysmal-black]

(@pxison - reg. Snooj suffering begins now 😈) There was a current of giddiness running through Niji as he sought after the blonde runt. So much time had been lost between his disappearance and reunion with the rest of the family that Niji was all too eager to make up for. In his clutches was an all too familiar helmet. This time resized to fit the cooks head should it be reapplied for old times sake. No matter where Sanji hid himself, he could never truly get away from any of his brother's torment. The sickening grin Niji was wearing only grew when he finally found the little scumbag and the helmet within his possession was presented in full view as though he took pride in all the memories it held. “Remember this Sanji? Those pretty little bracelets you're wearing are nice and all, but I thought you'd look even better in this. Doesn't it take you back? Why don't we both go down memory lane, I'm sure the other two would like to join in as well for old times sake.”

Contentment is long gone, all Sanji can hope for is silence. Being left alone with his own thoughts is preferable to his twin's company and for the most part they've left him alone. No longer is he the small boy that can't defend himself, begging for his sires help to call off the dogs he called brothers. It would be empowering if the mental scars didn't ache. Everything is the same, almost untouched by time in the years he's been absent. There is some sliver of solace that his mother's grave is kept tidy, her ghost not wandering these dreary halls.

It's in the cathedrals that the chef spends most of his time, beauty and color rare on Germa. Inside hallowed walls it almost seems like another place, foot traffic kept low and thick walls drowning out the drone of combat drills and weapons testing. It's as serene of a hideaway he can hope for and passes most of his time with a book of napping in the pulpit for privacy.

Today however, he's been found out.

Niji is loud as usual, any attention good attention. Sanji makes a point to not even glance up at the man as he nears, neatly rolled joint maneuvered to the other corner of his mouth and page turned. Whatever he wants isn't good but the cook feigns an air of nonchalant hoping he'll leave.

Curiosity sets him on edge; there are very few things his twin could be referring to and single viable eye opens fully. Why would they still have that thing? Throat clenches suddenly dry, anxiety crawling up his neck like a cold towel. He knows what it is without looking, can still feel the weight of heavy steel closed around his skull and panic grips his heart. Can hear the painful thumping in his burning ears of racing heart. Knows if he doesn't act know Niji will push the matter and after all these years Sanji can't go back. He can't survive the cell, the mask, this place. Are his hands worth his sanity? If they are gone would his kidnappers find him useless again?

“Fuck off.” It's meek where he wants to growl. “I'm not in the mood.” He's never in the mood and fingers turn another page. “Get lost or I'll fillet you.” This time his voice doesn't crack, the treat very real even if it's carried by bravado.

[dreaminlittlenightmares]

Writing prompt, so a long time ago you wrote a story about the Lady being in the hospital. I want to see the events that led up to her being injure. A good bit of whump and angst please.

Ah yes, the Untitled Hospital Short. I remember that one; and a long time ago, I had played out what happened to the Lady before she was sent to the hospital. I don't remember it now, so I'm gonna make up something new~

Title: "Untitled 2 - Pre-Hospital Short" Word Count: 900 Characters: the Lady CW: Mild Language Use, Violence

"Be careful, Your Majesty," the young hotel attendant whispered, handing an umbrella to the Lady, "There have been a lot of random assaults recently."

"Thank you, and you don't have to call me that," the Lady replied and left the hotel quickly. There were a lot of things on her mind as she made her way down the dreary, drenched streets of Pale City. The rain, the rain soaking her clothes, the Thin Man and his love for the rain, and, mostly important, her new unofficial title. Every since the Thin Man jokingly called her his queen, everyone has been calling her "the Queen of Pale City". She was used to being treated with prestigeness and esteem, but this was taking it to a whole new level.

It seemed that everywhere she went, the citizens dodged out of her way or averted their eyes from hers. She was used to the fear, but it felt like everyone was terrified of her. The Lady figured that this was because of the Thin Man. There were some in his city that generally viewed him as a boogie man.

She was heading towards the Transmission Tower, unsurprised that the few people out and about moved graciously out of her way the second she appeared. In this half-empty city, it would have been nice to see a crowd traversing in the rain. But, if there were any, the Lady spotted them huddling in front of a television like rookery of penguins bracing against a wintery gale.

The Lady took a turn down an alley way that was a shortcut to the Tower. She didn't fear the shadows here, or any sort of darkness. Her magic was made of such things and she was a master of her craft. Even if this increased the risks of getting attacked, the dark sorceress could handle it. The one thing she did note about the alleyway was that there were no television sets here, functioning or broken. There was just litter and clothe lines, and a shading looking group ahead. The Lady held her head high and walked towards them. Darkness was at her beck and call.

"Well, well, well, boys! If it isn't the Queen herself!" A member of the group chuckled. The Lady took a quick look at the group. There were seven of them, which was more than enough to take her down...if they were fast and smart enough.

"Hey queeny," another person barked, "Tell your 'king' to finish 'Chasing Madness' already!"

"Yeah! It's been off air since like five years ago!"

The Lady stopped. She had little to now say over the Thin Man's productions, and she wasn't about to start now. "'Chasing Madness'?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, 'Chasing Madness'! Good show-"

"Except the last season, where the main character didn't do shit when his city was on the brink of war."

"Mother fucka just straight up left, which doesn't make any bloody sense taking that he's literally the hero of the show."

"Yeaaah." The group closed in around the Lady. "So, tell your king to finish 'Chasing Madness' and fix the character's story."

"Gentlemen," the Lady spoke softly, "I have little to do with the Broadcaster's work, and have no intention of interfering."

"Why?" a bold one scoffed, "You distract him long enough to interfere with his work."

"Yeah, so what's wrong give him a little suggestion from some fans?"

"You are distracting, though..." The group stepped in closer around her. The Lady didn't show any sign of fear. She check her head high and alert. "Maybe too distracting for all of us."

The Lady was fast, but they were faster. She raised her sleeve, but she underestimated their wit. One person grabbed at the cloth and yanked it back down. Another two rushed to her shoulders and shoved her down on her knees. When the Lady tried to use her other hand, another person grabbed that sleeve, too, and held it down and back with the first person. Two free men casually picked out pipes from the trash, and the seventh person stood before her with a smug grin.

"Let's see what's behind the mask." He peeled away her white face and glimmered with delight. "So pretty. I can see why he has his eyes on you, dove." The Lady roared angrily at him, more at the disrespect at her mask than her demeanor. He slapped her across the mouth hard enough to cut her lip.

"I shouldn't have done that," he muttered, "not that it matters. You wear this anyways." He threw the mask aside and balled up his hands into tight, angry fist. "Don't worry. We're not monsters and we're not gonna hit your face. The rest of you though...well..." He punched her in the gut, and the other two with pipes struck her in the ribs.

The Lady collapsed on the floor and her assailants kicked and beat her until she passed out. They didn't stop until one of them saw blood pool out from her body. They back away fearfully, but one had to make a final statement. "Witch. Get out of our city! The TV King doesn't need a queen."

It wasn't until about three hours later when someone found the broken lady and brought her to the hospital. The Doctor worked quickly to stabilize her and notify the Thin Man.

God save you from his revenge...

[autocrats-in-love]

ahh could you continue "a cold adventure"? id love to see what happens next

Part 1

The hero let go of the villain and stepped back. They couldn't see their nemesis's face. However, they could imagine the look of fear on it. Or, more likely, smugness. It isn't often you meet a descendant of an underworld employee. They had hidden this secret for a long time. Now, it was finally out in the open. To the last person they wanted to know had access to their greatest shame. They would torture the hero for it.

The villain's eyes sparkled at Coco. They turned and faced the hero. Their features were struck with. . .admiration. . ?

"Seriously?" The villain asked, eyes sparkling in the dim light. "You're from hell?"

"It's more of an, um, underworld of sorts." The hero scratched their neck and blushed. "The Judeo-Christian views aren't that accurate. It's closer to Greek myth-"

"Do you have any powers?" The villain asked.

They were practically jumping up and down.

"We aren't here for me." The hero finally regained control. "We have to get Seok back, remember?"

The villain sighed. "Right."

Coco was watching this nonsense with a smile. Their friend had returned.

"So, you come back after 7 eras, and it's not for me? But a hostage?"

The hero didn't respond. They watched Coco's face flash with pain. It quickly returned to the grin it had been trained to maintain.

"Well, then, I might as well help you. An excuse to abandon this dreary shift is very welcome."

Coco whistled. Somewhere from the impossible dark ceiling, descended a big wooden board. It had giant bad wings flapping eagerly as it flew down to meet Coco. It stopped in front of the three of them. The hero and Coco hopped on the oversized plank without hesitation. The villain didn't look as eager. They eyed the flying cart suspiciously.

"Come on. It won't bite." The hero stretched out their hand. "Probably."

The villain gulped. But then they locked eyes with the hero. They were nodding encouragingly. You'll be fine with me.

The villain took the hero's hand. They were pulled onto the board, which began flying with a slap from Coco. The board rose high enough to pass over the valley of labouring souls. The villain relaxed a bit. With wind rustling through their hair, and the hero's hand in theirs, this was kind of enjoyable.

"So, Coco," the villain said after a few minutes of going from chamber to chamber of tortured hostages. "Where did you get that name? It's nice. A bit too nice for. . ."

"This place? I know." Coco turned around. They were ecstatic.

The hero groaned.

"Coco loved to tell the same dramatic story about their name." They explained. "I'll bet you it hasn't changed a bit since I left."

"Right you are." Coco clicked their tongue at the hero. "So, it was 1576, in Mexico. Everyone was happy-"

"No one was happy."

"When there was an outbreak out of nowhere."

"Not out of nowhere. The drought didn't help."

Coco frowned. "You leave me all alone for moons, come back, and start critiquing my name story?"

"You're right. I shouldn't even be letting you tell it. Coco was named after the Cocolitzi epidemic of 1756, it was mysterious with weird symptoms and killed half of Mexico. The end."

The villain was amazed.

"I wish I was name after an epidemic." They pouted.

The hero rolled their eyes. But something was tugged in their chest.

"Fine, you get one of the bubonic plague outbreaks. Happy?"

"The Black Death. That would be a great villain na-"

The villain's musings were cut off by the flying cart stopping over a field chamber with a canyon filled to the brim with tongues. Thankfully, the cart was off to the side, so Coco, the villain, and the hero only landed on the hard ground when the board turned 180 degrees and dropped them.

The thud knocked the breath out of the hero and villain. They struggled to sit up and coughed as dirt go in their noses and on their coats. The hero took a few second for the pain in their back to pass.

"That's weird." Coco commented, already back on their hooves. "I didn't ask the cart to do that."

"I did."

The hero froze. The memories came quickly. They messed with their brain. The crying. The pain. The running and running until their world was black. The world they associated with that voice.

"Aunty."

The cloaked figure titled her head and laughed. She grabbed the villain by the arm of the dirty ground. The villain struggled, but they were no match for a literal demon. She pulled the villain to her chest and wrapped a tentacle around their neck. Another dropped to the villain's face, sensing any life. It stuck to the villain's face, sucking out their will to move. A cruel sedative of her own invention. The hero screamed. But they couldn't move. Even now, their aunt still had control of them.

"It's been a while, pet." Their aunt crooned. "Now, let me tell you my demands."

[patchworklove]

thoughts on mayans pt.2

(s4 mostly) part 1 here bc apparently i have a lot of thoughts

controversial - but i kinda like hope and nails. i think nails was better suited to hank, especially because he was gonna step up for her in a way that angel never did. and sure nails was a ons/fwb broken condom situation, but that doesn't mean she should be faulted for falling for someone who was a self-absorbed arsehole and wanting her child to have a 2-parent household. she went about things wrong, but at the same time, i think angel led her on in regards to what he would and could bring to the table. i hope she bails after the loss of her baby.

hope and coco had a sweet relationship, and whilst i don't think they were madly in love soulmates, it was nice to actually have a mayan in a relationship and be putting in the effort. (obvious exception: marcus). i also enjoyed her storyline: she was from charming and after soa s7, got mixed up in drugs. like the nords were still probably running it, and sons overlooked it. and she ended up around stockton and oakland mayans bc that's what she knew? let's not act like sons were saints with mad respect for the girls at the clubhouse bc they weren't. her ending up on meth mountain, with a son who didn't care, is supposed to be shitty, bc that's what the club gave the girls who weren't old ladies: a shitty deal. so her getting clean and having happiness with coco was a good thing. addiction isn't easy, and nor is recovery and i liked that they showed that, and how coco was going to help her through it. it sucks that there is no hea for hope, but i don't think there should be.

leti is an annoying character, and after the rumors i've read about emily, that 4x06 scene was annoying and kinda cringy. she's not the greatest actress and i feel like she sort of doesn't do much other than be pissed. i can't tell if that's the writing and lack of development for the character after 4 seasons, but it's growing stale.

i don't know how i feel about taza's storyline being ongoing still? it's good that there are actual repercussions for things that have happened in other seasons, bc they keep getting overlooked. it is getting old though, and lbh bishop could just drop him in it and tell marcus that's the reason for the war.

the sons/mayan war storyline is frustrating. jess should've known what she was doing, and her naivety is annoying. how do you hang around a clubhouse for years and not realise they'll shoot people. you literally heard someone die a few months back. did you think they were gonna sit down and talk it out??!

i'm glad marcus brought up 92 and how no one won, bc i feel like mayans (show) often forgets he does have a history. i'm a little annoyed they're bring esai into it though i can't wait until he tells ez it's bc his son was a power-hungry idiot who made moves that impacted everyone, and he needed to die to stop a war. 1 necessary over many unnecessary. marcus has become softer from sons, which means he'[ll probably die bc he's not what a 1% leader should be. even though i actually think he's one of the bet ter leaders.

i've been annoyed by the galindos in the past seasons, but at this point thank fuck they're here. the only saving grace. i'm ready for miguel to be the cartel leader he was in s1 but more. i have enjoyed him sort of spending time with his aunt and tomás, and working on himself. i think he lost who he was after dita died.

i'm conflicted over what emily's storyline is bringing to the table. like i know we need to know she's alive and in hiding, because it's gonna be important to miguel's story. but outside of that, i don't really care. i liked the emily who was ready to get her hands dirty and join miguel's world when cristobal was missing. i don't like the dreary "ez 😍" bullshit version. but i fear any hope of emily being a force not to be fucked with is long gone.

i'm glad tig is returning, but it will probably be some fanservice cameo, and it may not be enough to make fans view this show like they have before

i realise this is so much longer than it should have been, and the fact that i have had to make 2 posts?! goddamn. but i have a lot to think about. i'm not sure it will be renewed, which is a shame bc it had potential. if it does, s5 would (read: should) be the last. and even then, i don't know that i'd watch it. i'll have to finish this season and decide if i can go through more of this.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Diggory Hodgkins ran up to his older brother, Samuel, after school had ended, he was rather excited because Samuel seemed to have been working on a new thing they'd be doing come after school on a Friday.

"Hullo Samuel!" He cried "We ought to do that thing we spoke of doing on this fine day?"

And a fine day indeed it was, not a single cloud in the sky, though the skies never seemed to appear that clear blue hue as depicted in illustrations or paintings, still, it was better than totally grey, atleast the sun was quite visible. Diggory would often get excited whenever the weather was anything other than dreary, though pathetic it may sound to some people, he enjoyed what little sunshine the heavens gave them.

"Hmh!" Samuel hummed with a nod.

"Yes!" Diggory exclaimed with a sense of victory, the two brothers started walking out of the school's campus, with Samuel in the lead "So what is it, might I ask? Excuse me! I know you like keeping secrets until the right moment but could you atleast spare a morsel of detail about it? My mind has been racking at what it could possibly be! But of course, one could never figure out what may be going on in that head of yours, oh goodness no."

"You'll see." Samuel stopped to pick up a wooden plank and some rope that he hid in a bush.

"Oh! Are those what you'll be using for the project?" Diggory guessed rather quickly.

"Yes." Samuel confirmed.

"Oh goody!" Diggory clapped "Perhaps I could guess what it is?"

"No." Sam answered harshly "How was school?" he asked and continued walking.

Diggory seemed a little deflated but understood that he shouldn't pry for answers to something he'll see quite soon, he adjusted his school satchel in a huff "Well." he started before following behind his brother "Quite the same actually, you know how it is. Teachers rambling academic nonsense for hours on end, peers picking on eachother, bland everything else. Seriously, I'm sorry but school is just so boring, yeah? How could anyone manage to sit down and listen and expect us to pay attention when there's nothing that even could be interesting!" He started to complain "What could possibly be so enticing about figuring out the third angle of a triangle? What would possibly motivate me to be invested in figuring out such a trivial conundrum to me personally? The teacher certainly never provides a solid motivation, it all becomes forgettable hogwash that has nothing to do with what I want out of life. Though I may possibly be rude, I'm sure you found that sort of thing fascinating given it may pertain to engineering in some way, right?" He paused for an answer from Samuel but then continued anyway "I guess you always were the academically inclined one, I'm over here 'daydreaming my school days off 'and 'being distracted' and whatever else people might say. It's interesting, really, how unlike eachother we are despite sharing the same blood, so to say." Diggory crossed his arms and started kicking a small pebble as a temporary companion on their journey "Some might even use the word funny. All I know is that we're stuck together until something or other separates us, and I believe that's what brothers ought to do. Shame we have a four year difference between us, wouldn't it be cool if we were twins instead?" He looks up at him eagerly, but then looks down again "Ah, you probably find it ridiculous that such a thing would be important. The prospect is rather poetic in my mind but I don't suppose you would endorse it, sorry. We do appear to live in two separate bubbles that might converge into a venn diagram with little in common... Excuse me, we must've had this conversation before, I must sound like a verbal equivalent of a merry-go-round... Have we had this conversation before?" Diggory paused a little for an answer "Samuel, I am genuinely asking this time."

"Ah. Yes, I think so." Samuel said thoughtfully, sometimes it was hard to tell when Diggory was actually looking for an answer or just pausing before continuing his rants, so it was often that he needed to clarify so Samuel can answer. Samuel stopped at a tree in front of a cliff side view and laid down his wooden plank and rope.

"Oh, all right, I suppose that sounds correct... Goodness these aren't actually conversations, really, I should stop calling them that." Diggory saw that Sam had stopped and looked at the sea "By my tail, that looks gorgeous! Does the ocean always sparkle like that?" He said in awe.

"Only in shining daylight, I believe." Samuel replied, inspecting the branches of the tree.

"Well, that's simply another reason to hate the drowsy weather. I can not wait until we get to travel across the ocean and get to live in country where there's more sun and less imbecilic grey clouds overhead, oh, the dream." Diggory continued staring at the sparkly waters before the pebble he was kicking before had landed on his head, thanks to the aim of his brother no less.

"Think you can climb?" Samuel asked, pointing a thumb at a nice-looking tall branch of his tree.

"Oh yeah! Hold on just a moment!" Diggory dropped his satchel and took off his shoes in a hurry. He ran up and started climbing the tree "It's a real shame you can't do this sort of thing, brother."

Samuel leaned against the tree and made a disinterested hum of confirmation, he didn't actually care much for it. He lifted his ears up as he waited, ready for another rambling.

Diggory continued climbing "Like in all seriousness, climbing trees is rather fun. You get to the tippy top on a tree and you get to see the world from a whole new perspective! Everything is alot smaller and perhaps at the right view you could pretend everyone is a tiny little creature that you can squash between your index and your thumb," he reached the last branch of the tree- the one he needed to get to, of course "Like this!" Diggory closes one eye and pretends to squish his brother's head between his fingers "But I suppose someone of your size already gets that sense, big blue."

"Yep. Which is part of what drives everyone away, I suppose." Samuel looks up at his brother and throws the rope up to him.

Diggory catches the rope in his paws "Well it's not just that, atleast from what I hear of you from others." He looks down at the rope "What am I to do with this, exactly?"

"Tie it to the branch." Samuel says as he takes out a knife from his own school satchel.

"Hm." Diggory ties a knot and started pondering what this latest contraption could possibly be again. "Is this another one of your 'practical joke' inventions for your enemies?" Samuel always liked building pranks for anyone he happened to dislike, it used to be a big habit years ago but later the amount of them dwindled as he matured, but even at his current age it's still not out of the realm of possibility.

"Nnnnnope." Samuel said, he put up the wood plank against it at a certain height and chopped off the rope with his knife accordingly, then threw the cut off rope up at his brother again "Tie that one about..." He uses the plank as a reference and placed his hand at a certain spot "Here."

"Well if it isn't a practical joke then what else could it possibly be?" Diggory adjusted the position of his rope to his brother's hand placement and tied a knot on the branch.

"Be patient, will you?" Samuel cut off the excess rope, he put the knife back in his satchel and took out a hand drill to use it on the ends of the plank.

"You know carrying those sorts of things on you is part of the reason why everyone thinks you're weird, right?" Diggory said.

"Mphm." Samuel replied as he's finished drilling the holes of the plank "By the by, you can come down now." he put one of the ropes through one of the holes and tied a knot under it, he did the same for the other one. After he was done he put his hands on his hips rather proudly.

Diggory climbed down enthusiastically to see what his brother had just created "A... Swing?" his enthusiasm seemed to turn into a rather puzzled expression toward his brother "Sam, I love you dearly, but I have to admit you have created far more impressive things than this. Unless this isn't all of it?"

"Eh. That's just about it." Samuel answered with a shrug.

"Really? But- why?" Diggory was absolutely bewildered by this.

"It's for you. You like looking at the sea, thought you'd like something a little more convenient." Samuel was still relatively proud of this small achievement.

"Ah, for me?" Diggory lightened up a little and went to sit on the newly built swing "Hm! I guess it is rather convenient for me!" He started swinging on it lightly "Such a nice view today, too. Suppose I should thank you, then!"

"No need." Samuel sat on the grass next to him and took off his own shoes "Rather exhausting. School. Possibly other things aswell. Nice to take a step back and make something like this with you." He slouches over and rested on his knee to view the ocean.

"Heh. Yeah..."

The two brothers sat with eachother until the sun came down, it was rather peaceful that day, the greyish blue skies just seemed to look like regular blue.