JULY 9, 2014.
Post by ASHTON ARTERIUS on Jan 25, 2014 10:43:07 GMT -5
The false-named soul reaper’s neck angled with a right turn, exposing a smug grin with maroon eyebrows twitched upward with confusion and complacency. “What?” A chuckle intervened into his volubility, bringing his steps to their culmination as the edge of the corner. “Protecting humans is way below my pay grade, I just do it because I’m a self-proclaimed hero.” If the dark-skinned mortal sought fruitful results in deciphering the red-haired spirit, he’d find virtually little success. Hell, the Shinigami’s most beloved hardly stood a chance in making sense out of the man’s actions.
The male’s arms crossed against his chest comically as he lazed his left shoulder against the curving architecture, peering his malevolent golden eyes at the inquiring human. “But I suppose I owe you that much, Anders. My name is Siddhārtha Gautama and my true purpose is to enlighten you in the philosophy of Buddhism.” Any particle of hilarity dissipated with each and every syllable, allowing his immovable grin to mutate in a thin line of seriousness. Unnerving satirical humor shrouded the Shinigami’s being as he simply stared at the strands of white hair atop the young man’s head.
Remembrance electrified the enigmatic soul’s eyelids into expansion, his pupils dilating as an astonished gasp of air leapt from his poisonous lips. “Oh! I forgot…” He goofily fumbled into the opening of his garbs, pulling out a syringe containing mysterious black fluids. “You’re going to need this.” He carefully tossed the medical capsule through the air for Anders to catch. “I’m too damn busy spreading my seed to noble brunettes to protect you all the time.” The cryptic and confounding nature of the Shinigami failed to dissolve, leaving the unorthodox fluids to the humans to do as he pleased. He held very little personal interest in what the young man did with the contents of the syringe, aside from curiosity.
The idea of someone taking some random fluids from an untrustworthy source was beyond absurd. But the thought of falling victim and watching loved ones become prey to the creatures that crept the dark was scarier in itself. Either way, Ashton had facials to give, orders to dole out, and preparations to make. With the human failing to follow him and access further knowledge, he was forfeiting profit while the clock spun. The male’s feet pattered in reverse past the corner, his eyes never leaving Anders until physics beckoned. And by the time the ants by his feet curved their turn, there would be no trace of ‘Gautama’ except a gust of wind.
The male’s arms crossed against his chest comically as he lazed his left shoulder against the curving architecture, peering his malevolent golden eyes at the inquiring human. “But I suppose I owe you that much, Anders. My name is Siddhārtha Gautama and my true purpose is to enlighten you in the philosophy of Buddhism.” Any particle of hilarity dissipated with each and every syllable, allowing his immovable grin to mutate in a thin line of seriousness. Unnerving satirical humor shrouded the Shinigami’s being as he simply stared at the strands of white hair atop the young man’s head.
Remembrance electrified the enigmatic soul’s eyelids into expansion, his pupils dilating as an astonished gasp of air leapt from his poisonous lips. “Oh! I forgot…” He goofily fumbled into the opening of his garbs, pulling out a syringe containing mysterious black fluids. “You’re going to need this.” He carefully tossed the medical capsule through the air for Anders to catch. “I’m too damn busy spreading my seed to noble brunettes to protect you all the time.” The cryptic and confounding nature of the Shinigami failed to dissolve, leaving the unorthodox fluids to the humans to do as he pleased. He held very little personal interest in what the young man did with the contents of the syringe, aside from curiosity.
The idea of someone taking some random fluids from an untrustworthy source was beyond absurd. But the thought of falling victim and watching loved ones become prey to the creatures that crept the dark was scarier in itself. Either way, Ashton had facials to give, orders to dole out, and preparations to make. With the human failing to follow him and access further knowledge, he was forfeiting profit while the clock spun. The male’s feet pattered in reverse past the corner, his eyes never leaving Anders until physics beckoned. And by the time the ants by his feet curved their turn, there would be no trace of ‘Gautama’ except a gust of wind.
CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GS
