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A Spiny Ant
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Nuff said.
Sorry for the short post. Just wanted to get things moving again...XD
13:00 at the Cafe
~A Rugged Indoorsman~
The morning, after that relaxing ice bath, was spent as productively as it had always been. While the cafe WAS dead as a dog in the morning, Brent had picked up some basic weeding work for the grounds of the Inn, and was rewarded for that with brunch-time chicken soup. It was nice, knowing that he was a common enough face around Lily Town that people knew exactly what sort of 'currency' to pay him in. After all, one could not eat gold, but they COULD eat food. And soup was even better, because it was both something that is eaten and drunk, making it the ultimate food-thing. Not to mention that you can eat it on the go, simply by putting it into your water bottle or whatever and drinking it. Or you could use it as a dip, and make boring, dry bread into a tasty midnight snack.
Of course, it didn't change the fact that Brent still needed to get enough work done for a large dinner. Winter was flu season, but spring didn't have nearly as much incidents in which the townspeople fell ill, so he wouldn't be able to get any supply demands from Everett. Fishing was boring, and only a last resort, so he'll never do that until he's half-starved. And the bar wasn't even open until later in the evening.
The cafe was going to be busy during lunch time anyways, so there wasn't a smidgen of doubt in Brent's mind as he marched to the Daisy Cafe. He was clean enough for restaurant work, after all, considering he had taken extensive measures to make himself presentable, even after four and a half hours mucking around in the dirt, cursing the nightmarish roots of weeds. With the ringing of a bell signalling his entrance into the cafe, the Jack of All Jobs, and Master of Exploration said with a grin, “Good day, ladies, I'd like to order a job today. For here, of course!”
~A Rugged Indoorsman~
The morning, after that relaxing ice bath, was spent as productively as it had always been. While the cafe WAS dead as a dog in the morning, Brent had picked up some basic weeding work for the grounds of the Inn, and was rewarded for that with brunch-time chicken soup. It was nice, knowing that he was a common enough face around Lily Town that people knew exactly what sort of 'currency' to pay him in. After all, one could not eat gold, but they COULD eat food. And soup was even better, because it was both something that is eaten and drunk, making it the ultimate food-thing. Not to mention that you can eat it on the go, simply by putting it into your water bottle or whatever and drinking it. Or you could use it as a dip, and make boring, dry bread into a tasty midnight snack.
Of course, it didn't change the fact that Brent still needed to get enough work done for a large dinner. Winter was flu season, but spring didn't have nearly as much incidents in which the townspeople fell ill, so he wouldn't be able to get any supply demands from Everett. Fishing was boring, and only a last resort, so he'll never do that until he's half-starved. And the bar wasn't even open until later in the evening.
The cafe was going to be busy during lunch time anyways, so there wasn't a smidgen of doubt in Brent's mind as he marched to the Daisy Cafe. He was clean enough for restaurant work, after all, considering he had taken extensive measures to make himself presentable, even after four and a half hours mucking around in the dirt, cursing the nightmarish roots of weeds. With the ringing of a bell signalling his entrance into the cafe, the Jack of All Jobs, and Master of Exploration said with a grin, “Good day, ladies, I'd like to order a job today. For here, of course!”
You don't just simply break up with her. Why? Because the Church does not endorse divorce. If you date her, you're going to marry her, and you'll have to stay with her...
Until death do you part.
Until death do you part.
A bit of a subpar post. Eclaire's feeling a bit darker today, mainly because her fun afternoon plans were pretty much ruined.
It was supposed to be a fun day after school, really. Eclaire was planning to spend the afternoon checking out that new cafe place with a couple of her friends, and then, afterwards, going out for some window-shopping. And before that, she was planning on having a nice time strolling around in one of Utopia's many parks, perhaps buying a Popsicle to accompany her while she wandered through the tree-lined trails.
Instead, though, she had found herself flattened onto the ground by a round of explosives, before somehow being swept up amongst a group of other civilians and tourists by armed gunmen. Armed, non-Connector gunmen who had a grudge against Connectors. Because of the unfair advantage granted by their Spirit Connection, was it? Even though businesses run by Connectors still paid taxes. And taxes still required math. Things that normal people could learn. She wondered if there were third-world citizens who attacked first world citizens with knives and tigers because the first-world had robots to do their work for them. What Eclaire felt was not anger, but a certain degree of pity for those terrorists. They must have suffered through a lot, for their perception of the world's inequities to become warped by this much. Were countries in the past, before the Connectors revealed themselves to the world, jealous of each other's prosperity, to the extent of attacking them? No. In the past, it was about the ideals and beliefs of separate religions that caused strife.
Now, with the proof that all religions were 'correct', it seemed that terrorists degraded into tragic people who disliked peace and prosperity, disliked the fact that the Connectors wished to keep themselves isolated from the rest of the world.
As she cared for an injured man, rendered unconscious by the explosions that they used to disorientate the Connectors, the girl watched as members of the Tsurara Police Force made themselves known. Another pity, for an organization that was meant to exhibit high morals to be amusing themselves with such base comments. They made lightly of 'rape', didn't they? They chose to put civilians at risk in order to draw out the enemy group, didn't they? They were confident, weren't they?
Lost lambs and straying shepherds, milling about the fields of Utopia.
In a world where religion had been proven 'true' by the existence of Spirits, there were still atheists, hedonists, and psychotics who thought themselves exempt from the judgement of beings that existed on a higher plane than themselves.
Eclaire brought her hands together in prayer, enclosing them over the cross she wore around her neck, and said a single sentence.
“May the Light of the Lord show you a proper path, lambs trespassing this sanctuary of peace.”
She hoped that the policewomen, despite their questionable attire, would settle this quickly and painlessly. The child did not want any lives lost that day, if she could help it.
Because if there were lives lost, there would be divine retribution.
Instead, though, she had found herself flattened onto the ground by a round of explosives, before somehow being swept up amongst a group of other civilians and tourists by armed gunmen. Armed, non-Connector gunmen who had a grudge against Connectors. Because of the unfair advantage granted by their Spirit Connection, was it? Even though businesses run by Connectors still paid taxes. And taxes still required math. Things that normal people could learn. She wondered if there were third-world citizens who attacked first world citizens with knives and tigers because the first-world had robots to do their work for them. What Eclaire felt was not anger, but a certain degree of pity for those terrorists. They must have suffered through a lot, for their perception of the world's inequities to become warped by this much. Were countries in the past, before the Connectors revealed themselves to the world, jealous of each other's prosperity, to the extent of attacking them? No. In the past, it was about the ideals and beliefs of separate religions that caused strife.
Now, with the proof that all religions were 'correct', it seemed that terrorists degraded into tragic people who disliked peace and prosperity, disliked the fact that the Connectors wished to keep themselves isolated from the rest of the world.
As she cared for an injured man, rendered unconscious by the explosions that they used to disorientate the Connectors, the girl watched as members of the Tsurara Police Force made themselves known. Another pity, for an organization that was meant to exhibit high morals to be amusing themselves with such base comments. They made lightly of 'rape', didn't they? They chose to put civilians at risk in order to draw out the enemy group, didn't they? They were confident, weren't they?
Lost lambs and straying shepherds, milling about the fields of Utopia.
In a world where religion had been proven 'true' by the existence of Spirits, there were still atheists, hedonists, and psychotics who thought themselves exempt from the judgement of beings that existed on a higher plane than themselves.
Eclaire brought her hands together in prayer, enclosing them over the cross she wore around her neck, and said a single sentence.
“May the Light of the Lord show you a proper path, lambs trespassing this sanctuary of peace.”
She hoped that the policewomen, despite their questionable attire, would settle this quickly and painlessly. The child did not want any lives lost that day, if she could help it.
Because if there were lives lost, there would be divine retribution.
I'll take the Librarian Key then. Because of elegance and style~
How about...
The Go-Home Club.
The Go-Home Club.
In
Academia Abyssus: Go (Not) to Hell, Do (Not) Collect 200 Souls
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Was it Snarky Sunday that day or something? While the majority of the group had the sense to stay silent, hopefully out of respect for the willpower that it took for Lyss to be wearing three layers of heavy clothing. After all, compared to the temperatures that he was used to, it was really damn cold at the moment. He missed the warmth of the lakes of fire. It made him sad, being a ferryman on Lemon River. Then again, what could he do? Nothing, other than to start pushing the boat back towards the cluster of buildings that served as the 'town' of Academia Abyssus. Well, no, there were also statements to be responded to.
The first that spoke was the redheaded girl, Wendy, if his soul-reading was correct. A bully that got the shit kicked out of her after the weaklings teamed up and realized that weapons were there for a reason. Quite funny, really. The black situational comedy that was just as funny as a lion getting bumrushed by a bunch of rats. Her comment was something that was...well, her injuries pre-death must have damaged her mental faculties on a fundamental level as well. It was the first time Lyss had ever heard of someone describe this situation as the wet dream of a Latino woman, after all.
Luckily, a saner individual with a sketchier, more interesting history spoke up next, and Lyss decided it was better to just ignore Wendy, focusing instead of the super secret ninja assassin agent sniper. Locking eyes with the boy, wondering whether his eyes were still 'demonic' enough that it could scare him, even after years on this 'desk' job, Lyss replied, “All your kills, Mr. Super Famous Secret Agent. Well, nowadays, most people get sent to Hell regardless, since Heaven's pretty much just a gentleman's club. Oh yeah, Limbo's overcrowded as well, so now, only dead children and pets get sent there. Simply said, even if you weren't a badass 100-kill streak modern Rambo, you'd still be sent here, because you're a bad boy.”
“And, computer nerd, this isn't the Styx. That river shut down a few centuries ago, because it was taking way too long to accurately judge the soul of individuals. This is the Lemon River, filled with the urine, sweat, tears, scat, and lemon-scented detergent and soap of Academia Abyssus. Which is a school. That you will now be attending. In order to have a happy and productive life in Hell.”
Tilting his head to the side, as if in temporary thought (even though it was just an act), Lyss finished unconvincingly, “I don't know what you'll be learning, though, so yeah. Just have fun and talk to each other for now. Your entrance exams will be starting shortly.”
“Oh yeah, make sure you do your stretches as well. And you, in that corner, please stop crying. Your tears are ruining my paint.”
With that, he turned his back on the group of scrubby, unclean brats, and went back to work, poling the boat down the river.
The first that spoke was the redheaded girl, Wendy, if his soul-reading was correct. A bully that got the shit kicked out of her after the weaklings teamed up and realized that weapons were there for a reason. Quite funny, really. The black situational comedy that was just as funny as a lion getting bumrushed by a bunch of rats. Her comment was something that was...well, her injuries pre-death must have damaged her mental faculties on a fundamental level as well. It was the first time Lyss had ever heard of someone describe this situation as the wet dream of a Latino woman, after all.
Luckily, a saner individual with a sketchier, more interesting history spoke up next, and Lyss decided it was better to just ignore Wendy, focusing instead of the super secret ninja assassin agent sniper. Locking eyes with the boy, wondering whether his eyes were still 'demonic' enough that it could scare him, even after years on this 'desk' job, Lyss replied, “All your kills, Mr. Super Famous Secret Agent. Well, nowadays, most people get sent to Hell regardless, since Heaven's pretty much just a gentleman's club. Oh yeah, Limbo's overcrowded as well, so now, only dead children and pets get sent there. Simply said, even if you weren't a badass 100-kill streak modern Rambo, you'd still be sent here, because you're a bad boy.”
“And, computer nerd, this isn't the Styx. That river shut down a few centuries ago, because it was taking way too long to accurately judge the soul of individuals. This is the Lemon River, filled with the urine, sweat, tears, scat, and lemon-scented detergent and soap of Academia Abyssus. Which is a school. That you will now be attending. In order to have a happy and productive life in Hell.”
Tilting his head to the side, as if in temporary thought (even though it was just an act), Lyss finished unconvincingly, “I don't know what you'll be learning, though, so yeah. Just have fun and talk to each other for now. Your entrance exams will be starting shortly.”
“Oh yeah, make sure you do your stretches as well. And you, in that corner, please stop crying. Your tears are ruining my paint.”
With that, he turned his back on the group of scrubby, unclean brats, and went back to work, poling the boat down the river.
When you PM the CSes, PM them to me too, please~
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