About
Maka Albarn, top student at the DWMA and meister of Soul the Death Scythe. I hope you like waffles.

//Crack Maka RP blog. Don't take anything you see here seriously. CURRENTLY ON SEMI-HIATUS! Will be back sometime in the middle of May. :3
tags:
#ooc
Semi-Hiatus!

//Nothing’s actually going to change; I just thought since I wasn’t very active anyway, it was time to “officially” go on hiatus. End-of-semester tests are coming up so I’m a lot busier than usual, but I’ll still be here to work on replies when I can.

My last test for the year should be sometime in the middle of May, so I should be going off of hiatus then. :3

soul-dwelling:

I’m not posting this for the episode.

I’m posting this because of the web site’s freaking name.

Café Conversation ||| @ilikescythes

madnessoforder:

⊰☠⊱ Fingertips delicately traced the lip of an off white coffee cup in steady circles as the Reaper sighed to himself. Kid’s cappuccino had proven to be too hot for his tongue to handle, earning him a burn on the left side of his tongue. Of course, because he also wanted his right side burned as well Kid ended up burning his entire tongue. He did it completely on purpose just mere moments ago for the sake of keeping the welts balanced on both sides. Patrons in the café gave strange looks when Kid cursed rather audibly after each burn. At least the burns shouldn’t remain on his tongue for too long considering Grim Reapers could heal rather speedily.

Kid agreed to meet up with Maka at Deathbucks today, but it seemed as if she was taking her time arriving. It had been too long since he had a friendly chat with the young scythe meister after all. How nice it would be to finally spend some time talking to a friend! Leaning back in his chair, Kid turned his attention from the window back to his cup. He didn’t want to be too rude and finish off his beverage already, but at the same time he didn’t want it to cool too much. Hopefully, Maka would arrive in time.

Several blocks down from the coffee shop where a certain Reaper was waiting, one frantic scythemeister rushed down the streets of Death City, cutting corners, slipping hurriedly through graffiti-scarred alleyways, muttering curses under the breath the whole way through. She paled at the thought of her friend growing impatient with her. Maka glanced at a nearby clock as she sped past yet another group of ordinary pedestrians — five minutes. Five minutes late, five minutes she’d spent trying to satisfy the whims of that good-for-nothing purple cat of hers just so she could leave the scythemeister to her own affairs — which, as the girl in question grudgingly noted, included a meeting with the Grim Reaper’s son that she was supposed to already be in. As she turned another corner, she pondered for a moment if five minutes was even enough to mark her as incompetent; then, hissing another curse as she ran, she realized that of course it was — she was supposed to be the top student at the academy, after all, and the only situation in which she was allowed to show up late to would be decisive fights against beings of evil. It was more dramatic that way, she’d been taught.

Finally she saw the familiar frame of Deathbucks and slowed her pace to a breathless but steady walk. She approached the doors and gave herself a short moment to consider her words to Kid; a simple apology would normally suffice, but telling him that she was late because her magical talking cat wouldn’t let her leave the apartment until she cured her boredom was as trivial of an excuse as they came. Maybe he wouldn’t mind, though; she recalled how he had arrived a few hours late himself on his first day at the academy. Regardless, she decided that it was futile to try to tell him anything but the truth anyway, and she shouldn’t keep him waiting any more than she already had, so with a small sigh she opened the door and started walking over to where she spotted Kid sitting. It seemed as though he was contemplating something profoundly deep as he stared at his coffee cup, though she knew that her assumption was ultimately baseless. She laced her fingers behind her back and stopped at the table.

"Sorry I’m late," she said with sheepish cadence. "Blair was being… difficult."

Soul Spills Coffee on Himself and Then Travels with Maka to Alternate Universes

makasbitch:

ilikescythes:

makasbitch:

Soul grinned at his girlfriend’s question. It was working! He wasn’t going to look like an ass. “They’re still there… I think. But we’re not.”

Maka looked again at her surroundings, still slightly unsettled. She then turned to the door, staring pensively at the lock. “Okay. So should I expect to see flying gloves and blue sheep with mouse ears once we leave this stall and step outside?”

"It’s possible," Soul replied, secretly hoping that wasn’t the case. He had already seen enough apples to put him off fruits and vegetables for weeks. "I haven’t figured out how to drive this thing, yet, so who knows what’s on the other side of that door." He slipped alongside Maka and pressed his ear to the stall door. "Seems pretty quiet, wherever we are."

"Only one way to find out," stated Maka as she stepped forward resolutely and unlatched the lock. She motioned for Soul to move back as she reached and pulled the door open. Upon stepping outside, she let out a short, pointed gasp, eyes wide in awe as she stared at the vastness of what appeared to be an open field.

She looked down, moving back a single step as if to avoid the tall, dark grass that swayed with the wind and tickled her bare legs. Maka slowly turned back to look at Soul, dumbfounded.

Soul Spills Coffee on Himself and Then Travels with Maka to Alternate Universes

makasbitch:

Soul grinned at his girlfriend’s question. It was working! He wasn’t going to look like an ass. “They’re still there… I think. But we’re not.”

Maka looked again at her surroundings, still slightly unsettled. She then turned to the door, staring pensively at the lock. “Okay. So should I expect to see flying gloves and blue sheep with mouse ears once we leave this stall and step outside?”

soul-dwelling:

Paging die waffle meister.

Did somebody say waffles?

Soul Spills Coffee on Himself and Then Travels with Maka to Alternate Universes

makasbitch:

Soul beamed with excitement. “Whatever you say,” he replied, holding the door open for her. As soon as Maka was clear of the restroom door he quickly forced it closed, locked it, and commenced a re enactment of his first physical attempt to show his girlfriend his discovery. He entered the stall, motioning his girlfriend to join him before taking her hand. “I wonder where it’ll send us, this time?” With a small prayer for success he took his free and and flushed the toilet.

She watched unenthusiastically as the water splashed around in the bowl in the same incredibly exciting manner as any regular flush. Maka waited a few moments before deciding to look around the closed stall for any notable changes, but aside from a few crude marker drawings scribbled into the wall that she hadn’t noticed before, her search yielded nothing. She glanced back and forth between Soul and the toilet.

"Okay," she deadpanned, "so you showed me a toilet flushing. I’m amazed. Now if you’re ready, let’s head over to—" Maka’s voice abruptly cut mid-sentence, and only a second passed before she turned with a worried gaze towards the door leading outside. "Soul, what just happened? All of the people in the coffee shop… Their souls suddenly disappeared."

tags:
#ooc

//Sorry for the inactivity lately! We’re getting more homework than usual, and it looks like this trend is continuing, so I’m not sure how active I can be in the coming weeks. >_<;

tags:
#ooc

yyeann:

For ilikescythes. Cause it’s taking me long to answer your ask and that won’t do. Unacceptable. Yeah. Sorry.

//Aaaaa! I wasn’t expecting this at all! XD It’s beautiful! Thank you! (And you don’t have to answer that ask if it’s taking too long. ^_^;)

Concealer, Part 2 (SoMa Week “Bandages” Fic)

soul-dwelling:

This selection, continued from yesterday’s Year One story, came out longer than I had hoped (6,600+ words).

Last Time:  Soul said something stupid, so Maka gave him a black eye.

This Time:  Soul makes amends, as he and Maka try out make-up.

Enjoy the fluff as YearOne!Maka and Soul bicker (with a post-Chapter 113 time skip).

********

“Ouch!”  Maka was lying down on her stomach on her bed. 

“Stop squirming.”  Soul tossed the dirty rag and took another from the pile on her bed.  “You took down a two-ton behemoth an hour ago; you can stand a little soap and water—”

“And cold, sharp tweezers!”  She groaned. 

He leaned closer to her back and stared.  As he examined the wound more closely, the past hour went through his mind again.  As soon as they had arrived in the living room, Maka had ripped off her torn jacket (she’d have to sew that up, again), vest, and tie.  She was about to take off her bloody blouse and skirt; upon remembering that Soul was still there, she ordered—asked—him to remove some pajamas from her room.  He turned away as she was about to change, yet her back ached too much to remove her boots.  As she could not lie down thanks to muscle aches and wounds, it took a long time to balance her on one foot at a time.  Once he tore the shoes off of her, he turned around to let her change—and confronted their living room’s mirror.  His own injury, the one given to him by his oh-so-responsible meister, was starting to form.  He stared at it for so long that he swore it was getting darker by the second. 

Too bad that as he stared at his eye that the reflection of his meister also confronted.  On the one hand, she did not notice him staring at her bare shoulder as she removed her bra—and for his own sake, he shut his eyes once she started to remove her skirt, long before she changed out of her underwear.  On the other hand, seeing her bare back—and again, lucky for him, seeing her only from the back—the abrasions all over her were horrible.  And he had thought his own eye looked bad; he could only imagine the pain she must have been feeling.

Maka was too angry to care that she was undressing in the living room—although she had checked that all curtains were shut in that room.  She was so mad she actually forgot Soul was there.  Upon changing into her nighttime attire, Maka had turned to see him still in the room.  At least he was gentleman enough to have his back to her, although she was worried why he was sweating so much.  She did not notice the mirror, and had her mind been clearer, she would have realized could have given her partner quite the show. 

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