#its not my fault they dont listen!

[ya-boi-haru]

Quixis: ok guys, they won't listen to me, but they'll listen to you. You have to help me, please!

Us (Chat): Of course! No problem!

*Fable trying to break through the portal in Icarus and risking their life in the process*

Quixis: YOU HAD, ONE JOB!

Us (Chat): WTF DO YOU THINK WE WERE TRYING TO DO-

[n4rval]

i lied. here's a bonus.

[uncharted-constellations]

Them, your honor

Anyways thank you echoes for giving poor a-ttp link a rest

[astarionancuntnin]

yooo they turned the nerd emoji into a real thing

gale + text posts (part 2)

[cicada-candy]

Assorted moonwar doodles n designs. For a Something I Shan't Say Because Knowing Me I Won't Finish It

I have So Many Thoughts About The Moon, Dude.. I should Compile Them

[coatree]

So I do some writing on the side and recently a couple friends of mine started making this DND style AU about their WL/SOL/CTM maps, I’ve, accidentally, become obsessed with this AU and figured I’d put some writing on here for fun

These were made with a one time pass through as a fan of the AU, if you want to learn more about it, most of the content of this AU and its basics are here, and spread through out Lew’s blog. it’s creators are Lew (Ellery), CJ (Syyrin). Smurg (Flint), Chris (Iscariot), and Maruu (Mar).

Please check it out. They have made me insane about this. There is so much art and things I will post because of them.

Card Games

“You ever play cards before?” Iscariot blinked out of his half-asleep state and glanced over to Flint, who was waving around a small box in his hands. Iscariot looked to the box, noticing the similarities to something he had seen some of the other people in the cult hold onto whenever it was a particularly long day. He blinked back to reality when he remembered Flint was waiting for an answer.

“Uh, no.” Iscariot said bluntly, recalling that no one ever really offered to teach him cards. It made sense to him, he wasn’t supposed to show weakness, and play was a form of weakness. It may have been a good way to pass time, but it was never, well, in the cards.

“Really??” Flint said, sitting up straighter with his face shifting to confusion. “Not even Crazy Eights? Go Fish? Poker??” Flint pushed, only getting closer to Iscariot as the man shook his head and leaned back in response. Flint huffed and sat back, opening the box and pulling out a stack of cards.

Flint shuffled the cards in front of Iscariot, confusing the hell out of him, before the deck was placed on the grass in between the two, and cards were being given to him. He held the cards gently, not trying to put a hole in them, as Flint held his own row of cards, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So first, I’m going to teach you the easy basic card game, Go Fish. You can play this anywhere at any time basically, no matter what cards you have, as long as you have a full deck.” Flint started. Iscariot listened closely, not wanting to mess up what Flint deemed the “easy basic card game”. While every inch in his body told him that he shouldn’t be playing games, the other parts of him said that he should at least give it a shot, and he shouldn't back down from a challenge.

So, he started playing Go Fish. He slowly got the hand of it, sometimes fumbling his cards, or messing up the names of the suits, but overall he wasn’t terrible. He had even won a couple of times. After the fifth game, Syyrin came over and joined in, wanting to play as well after she saw the two “having fun”, which Iscariot wanted to protest. but he bit his tongue.

Eventually, Mar also came over, deciding to join the game. She made it her life mission to target Iscariot, obviously, with her one goal being to make Iscariot lose at any opportunity. And yet, despite all that, Iscariot felt… something weird. It wasn’t what he usually knew, it felt new, fresh, it was similar to a feeling he got when Ellery…

Whatever. Regardless, it was peaceful, calming, and-

“Can I join too?”

Iscariot’s breath caught in his throat, he turned to look at Ellery who was looking at them all playing cards with an expression Iscariot couldn’t place. He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Flint lit up

“Yeah! Of course! Here, after this game we’ll get you some cards.” Flint spoke excitedly, the group watching as Ellery sat between Mar and Iscariot. He watched the rest of the game, Syyrin won, and held the cards that Flint handed to him

Iscariot was fine. He could be fine. Being so close to Ellery was perfectly fine. It was just, a normal, card game. There was no reason for the pit of guilt to-

“How do I play?” Ellery asked. It was a seemingly normal question, something that anyone would possibly ask, but the way Flint and Syyrin’s faces dropped at Ellery’s question, only made the pit inside Iscariot grow.

“You- you don’t know how to play?” Syyrin asked, to which Ellery shook his head.

“Did I?” Ellery asked again, confused as he stared at Syyrin and Flint.

The space went silent, the cracking of the fire and the rush of wind being the only noise heard. Iscariot, however, could only hear his heartbeat, the loud, drumming sensation of his heartbeat as Flint and Syyrin looked devastated, and Ellery realized why. The new feeling he felt earlier vanished without a trace, falling into the deep pit of guilt that took its regular place in his gut.

He stood, dropping his cards on the grass before stepping back, causing the others to look at him.

“I will… check around the area. Play without me.” Iscariot mumbled, heading over to his weapon and grabbing it before vanishing into the woods, leaving behind the stares of the other four as Flint once again taught someone how to play Go Fish.

[sandinmybed]

can i be fr for a minute?? sending abuse to people online for holding different views than you is not activism and in fact actively hurts your cause. most people are not extreme in their viewpoints, you can give them a new perspective if you're willing to spend some time explaining shit. if someone is saying something you disagree with and you rush in there to condescend to them and call them disgusting and subhuman and dont even TRY to explain calmly why their views are harmful, they're going to shut you out instantly and double down on their views.

most people are simply genuinely ignorant to the issues they're talking about - they just pick their views up from the news and the world around them and express opinions because that's what every person does. if you run in there and tell them they're scum for it, what then? if someone does that to you, are you going to think "maybe i should do some research" or are you going to think "this person is an asshole, im blocking them." a lot of you think you're activists and then refuse to do any kind of actual WORK to support your cause.

[featherwhiskered]

does he does he know the way i worship our love? does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?

[the-kipsabian]

[yooniesim]

Hi uh, I hope it's okay to ask, but which creator are you referring to? Because the whole cp thing is kind of a huge accusation and I'm definitely not comfortable with supporting someone who's into that kind of stuff

tianshii88/rentbunny/zhuhaitang/yin-shimo

to be clear it's not csam (real children) it's fictional (drawn & in sims), but they're extremely creepy as a person & remind me of abusers in my past that exposed me to that same fictional material as a child. it's common for those that do have bad intentions to use it to blur the lines/make minors feel like it's normal/okay so that they're easier to groom & abuse. this isn't something that everyone that consumes this content does, obviously, but the amount of times they specifically have had questionable boundaries raises red flags for me. (Having a minor character in a fetish pose in a preview on a blog they specifically allowed minors to follow for cc, defending that by saying the original mangaka posed the character that way first so it was his fault not theirs, having a discord server with a dead dove channel that minors could access & saying it was ok bc they had to use a react role to get in, calling survivors that were uncomfortable with this crybabies, puritans & dumbasses, etc)

I never could finish the full post i was making about them bc it was frankly pretty triggering to me & I was dealing with my father's passing at the time, but I still have the screenshots despite them changing their name multiple times, wiping their blog of everything & changing their pinned to be 18+ only. There's also other people that have called them out for certain things (like the pose incident) before in the past. I'm not saying they're a predator or child abuser, since I know they'll jump to that immediately- but I am saying they're creepy and their history of a lack of solid boundaries between minors & the adult content they consume is irresponsible and unacceptable. I certainly wouldn't feel comfortable having them in the same spaces as minors in this community. I personally blocked them a long time ago when they were rentbunny bc I saw they (as a non-black person) liked posts that were calling me a c*on and telling me to kms, but the full extent of all the rest that was brought to my attention was staggering tbh.

When I figured out they were in my server at the time (members came to me with the proof & said they were uncomfortable/triggered), I banned them silently. They responded by publicly harassing me for weeks and claiming that I had bullied them. They openly admitted they had only been in my server with the aim of baiting people into talking about them, and then posted screenshots of... people saying their cc was too high poly, had too many swatches for their liking, and someone editing the buns off one of their hairs for personal use. And they listed off usernames of people that had never mentioned them/were not active, purely with the goal to get others to attack them. They also mocked me for being in mourning for my father that had just passed, and after I had blocked them continued to make passive aggressive references to my grief. And this isn't even counting all the cc issues, taking money for commissions & ghosting the commissioners for months, and miscellaneous bigotry & bad behavior they've been involved in. This is all now deleted & they changed their username to yin-shimo directly after acting a complete fool towards me. But none of my posts are deleted, and I didn't forget. A lot of other people haven't either. So overall, I think they have bigger issues in their own house to focus on before worrying about someone else's cc dress.

[tsukasalover]

hi does anyone have any prsk fics to recommend i had like about 20 bookmarked on a browser and can’t get any of them back now because i had to delete it 😭 specifically wxs fics would be good but idm anything

[littlehatmouse]

save me butch arlecchino save me....

[finns-kardemumma]

doing a lil something while listening to my lil tunes when a song i looped in the worst point of my life comes up and i just have to stop washing the dishes and look outside forlornly

[yippie-madness]

i cant do all of this

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.