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A Bottle Too Many Part 1"Rangiku, why is it that I have to be involved in this?" Toshiro Hitsugaya grumbled to his second in command.
"Because Rukia has organised something," The spirited and big bucsom woman replied. "And I want it to be a success for her. Besides, it sounds like fun; I even brought some sake for the adults."
As she said this, Rangiku revealed a large ceramic bottle that contained the alcoholic liquid.
"Must everything you do involve alcohol?" Captain Toshiro sighed in exasperation.
"I only brought it to liven any awkward situations that may occur," Rangiku hid the liquor and pouted, rather put out at her captain's reaction.
"Besides, how can you be excited by a simple human game that totally robs you of any freedom and self-respect," Toshiro ranted in his usual, slightly irritated tone.
"But sir," Rangiku pleaded. "It's just a bit of fun."
"It is still ridiculous and is an utterly pointless exercise," Toshiro looked away, a weary expression on his face.
"Think of it as more of a moral and t
SoulxKid: Just A Mistake P.1It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new?
I don't know who you are, but I
I'm with you.
It's an unspoken rule, really.
Everyone at a Spartoi party has something to do. Every party, at any given time, look for them, and they'll be doing it.
Maka and Jacqueline having a bitch session.
Soul and Black Star getting drunk and trying to fuck anyone within a 5-mile radius.
Tsubaki trying to prevent this.
Ox attempting to woo Kim.
Kim having sex with Harvar in the host's bedroom.
Crona panicing because he can't deal with so many people.
Liz and Patty handing out ecstasy pills. (Old connections from the streets of Brooklyn 'never die'.)
Well, I'm standing in the corner, drink in hand, watching everyone have a good time.
It's not that I don't want to have fun, 'cause I do.
It'd just be awkward, seeing as I'm Lord Death's son, and I'm only in this elite group purely for that reason.
I watch, so
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
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