(no subject)
Who: brbomnomsouls and the_highcost
When: mid-morning, January 29th
Where: starter apartments, Tower One/Room 803, bathroom, communicating over a fogged-up mirror
Summary: Soul makes an attempt to contact Shinigami-sama in this world, but gets the wrong one. Depends on how you interpret "wrong" though.
Warnings: none
Soul gave a yawn as he stepped into the bathroom, rolling his shoulders before one of them cricked, making him wince. It seemed like the only thing he'd been doing lately was training, first on his own and then in Weapon mode to let Tenten practice. Back home, before going to rescue Kid, he'd started training as a Death Scythe, but that had been put on hold due to the rescue mission. And without Maka here, he couldn't continue it, so the way he saw it, the best thing to do was train on his own, to get his speed and slicing accuracy up.
Going about the usual morning routine, he paused in washing his face as he looked up at the mirror sitting above the sink. It was foggy, and Soul remembered he hadn't actually tried contacting Shinigami-sama in this world. Once everyone had told him contact to home was useless, he'd pretty much pushed the idea out of his mind. Pulling the flannel away from his face, he dropped it to the sink and pressed a finger against the glass.
"Can't hurt," he muttered to himself, beginning to write the number for the death room. 42-42-564...
When: mid-morning, January 29th
Where: starter apartments, Tower One/Room 803, bathroom, communicating over a fogged-up mirror
Summary: Soul makes an attempt to contact Shinigami-sama in this world, but gets the wrong one. Depends on how you interpret "wrong" though.
Warnings: none
Soul gave a yawn as he stepped into the bathroom, rolling his shoulders before one of them cricked, making him wince. It seemed like the only thing he'd been doing lately was training, first on his own and then in Weapon mode to let Tenten practice. Back home, before going to rescue Kid, he'd started training as a Death Scythe, but that had been put on hold due to the rescue mission. And without Maka here, he couldn't continue it, so the way he saw it, the best thing to do was train on his own, to get his speed and slicing accuracy up.
Going about the usual morning routine, he paused in washing his face as he looked up at the mirror sitting above the sink. It was foggy, and Soul remembered he hadn't actually tried contacting Shinigami-sama in this world. Once everyone had told him contact to home was useless, he'd pretty much pushed the idea out of his mind. Pulling the flannel away from his face, he dropped it to the sink and pressed a finger against the glass.
"Can't hurt," he muttered to himself, beginning to write the number for the death room. 42-42-564...