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discedo_logs2008-10-06 11:02 pm
nummeh-souls.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2008-10-06 11:02 pm
(no subject)
Who: Soul (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nummeh_souls) and Maka (papa_is_stupid) (Also open to Dr. Stein and Death Scythe.)
Where: Latimir Apartments, Room 503
When: Late afternoon, October 5th
Rating: PG
Summary: After being dragged out into the cold and stormy weather on account of his friends, Soul's cold hasn't gotten any better. But what's a Meister to do when she finds her only Weapon sick on the job?
the log:
With a grunt, Soul rolled over onto his side, blinking at the communicator that sat quietly on the edge of the mattress. He switched it off to get some sleep, but that wasn't about to come any easier than before. He gave it a stare, before breathing out a sigh to himself and finally reaching out to fumble with it, switching it on. Suddenly, the communicator sprang to live, transmitting the voices of Discedo over it like a local radio station. The Weapon wasn't really paying a whole lot of attention to what was being said, feeling groggy-headed and turning his head so that his nose was now buried into the pillow behind it. Felt like a rock.
"So noisy." He muttered, before finally straining to slowly pull his body up into a sitting position. The old bedsheets slid off him and down into his lap. He was wearing the long-sleeved shirt that he usually wore underneath his jacket. That was currently hanging up on the door, drying out. Scratching a hand through his white, mussy hair, he looked toward the open doorway of the bedroom. Was Maka still around? Or anyone? He really didn't want to have to drag himself out of bed.
nummeh_souls) and Maka (papa_is_stupid) (Also open to Dr. Stein and Death Scythe.)Where: Latimir Apartments, Room 503
When: Late afternoon, October 5th
Rating: PG
Summary: After being dragged out into the cold and stormy weather on account of his friends, Soul's cold hasn't gotten any better. But what's a Meister to do when she finds her only Weapon sick on the job?
the log:
With a grunt, Soul rolled over onto his side, blinking at the communicator that sat quietly on the edge of the mattress. He switched it off to get some sleep, but that wasn't about to come any easier than before. He gave it a stare, before breathing out a sigh to himself and finally reaching out to fumble with it, switching it on. Suddenly, the communicator sprang to live, transmitting the voices of Discedo over it like a local radio station. The Weapon wasn't really paying a whole lot of attention to what was being said, feeling groggy-headed and turning his head so that his nose was now buried into the pillow behind it. Felt like a rock.
"So noisy." He muttered, before finally straining to slowly pull his body up into a sitting position. The old bedsheets slid off him and down into his lap. He was wearing the long-sleeved shirt that he usually wore underneath his jacket. That was currently hanging up on the door, drying out. Scratching a hand through his white, mussy hair, he looked toward the open doorway of the bedroom. Was Maka still around? Or anyone? He really didn't want to have to drag himself out of bed.