Cool: adjective


Soul 'Eater' Evans

'The Last Death Scythe' at your service

{Indie RP}

{warning: my Soul is one of those deep emotional fuck heads that think a lot.}

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singinghomo:

— -{♂}

                  ❝Yeah— you don’t think I know that? But which are you willing
                  to do? Keep up with people and make a small change to your
                  life, or endure all of Nicole’s wrath for all eternity?

                  Your choice.❞ He’s trying to help.

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   "…I’d rather not feel her wrath for all eternity." But he really is bad at this sort of stuff. Always has been. He’s better at avoiding—which is exactly how he got away from his Family in the first place.


glassmemoir:

{/Nicole wouldn’t really smother him, and soon enough she’d fall asleep which in turn would allow him to sleep. But as for now, she just wanted to sit with him for a while.

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Her head moving to lean on his shoulder as she got situated in his lap, she rubbed at her eyes for a moment.} “I’s okay. I’m no’ mad…” {/She actually looks a little tired now. Still, one thing is never gonna change.} “—I wan’ food.”

Soul let out another breath, this time through the nose as he shut his eyes and relaxed again. She really was a handful this girl… he never once thought someone would worry about him just as much as he worried about others. Not in a life time.

  Peering down at her again, Soul refrained from telling her to grab something from his fridge. He really fucked up this time, so he figured he’d be nice enough to get her whatever she wanted. 

"What do you want?"


singinghomo:

— -{♂}

             ❝After hearing it for a while you learn to constantly keep in touch.
             You should learn from your mistakes, dude.

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   "Keeping in touch has never really been my forte." Neither has learning.


glassmemoir:

"Emails! We have emails fer a reason! Stop tryna make excuses!" {/Can he see how upset she is? Small sniffles, and lots of mumbling.

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He apologized, and it seemed to pacify her for the most part. Like a child after a tantrum, she was tired. Leaning down and burrowing her face in his shirt, she took a minute to speak loud enough for him to hear.}

"I’m gonna smother ya in yer sleep. So stay awake tanigh’."

Soul can see how upset she is and that is exactly why he’s given up. He let out a deep sigh and leaned his head back against the headrest; a hand placing itself on the girl’s back in attempts to calm her just after the apology.
   Hopeless, he was. He really, really was.

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   "I—..okay." He was so tired though, and so eager to finally sleep in his own cozy bed. What a pain. But he did bring this upon himself for being so stupid in the first place…damn it all. "…I didn’t mean to worry you, Nicole."


singinghomo:

— -{♂}

                ❝Soul’s gettin’ the third degree tonight folks…!

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    " … "


glassmemoir:

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"Don’ use tha’ savin’ excuse bullshi’ on me! Ya ain’ fightin’ twen’y four-seven, so don’ ac’ like ya cain’ make a phone call! Cell phones exis’ fer a reason!" {/As angry as she is, and yelling in his face and probably breaking the sound barrier, she’s hugging him. As tight as humanly possible, she’s just clinging to him.}

"Well sometimes I have to go to another state or country, and my phone doesn’t exactly work when I go out of the country, y’know?" She has a very good point, so his argument isn’t loud or angry in return. Then again it’s not really an argument in the first place. He just tried to explain himself somehow. 

   "Look I get it: I have shitty communication skills. I’m sorry."


glassmemoir:

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"Tha’s why I was worried, ya idio’! I have half a mind ta kill ya my damn self, so tha’ way ya cain’ leave no more!"

   ”I can’t just stop…saving people?” Ah but he does feel a little bad now. He always sets off without telling anyone. Bad habit. “…sorry. I’ll try to keep more in touch.”


glassmemoir:

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{/Look how upset he made her. He’s so very very mean to her. His punishment is now he’s being used as her personal chair. Simply as a precautionary measure.}

"Ya lef’ me! Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass! Do ya have any idea how worried I was?!”

    “I didn’t leave you on purpose. I have a job, remember?” Idiot, just say you’re sorry.


glassmemoir:

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"Dumbass!" {/Oh look, flying tackles from literally across the room.}

The Scythe wasn’t prepared for it that.
        “Wh—What am I a dumbass for?”


  “It’s finally cooling down out here, damn.”