((I am going to reopen this blog (tentatively) but there are going to be quite a few changes. I’m going to delete all prior RPs, many asks, and ask memes. I’m essentially wiping the slate clean - relationships established in RPs are pretty much zilch.))
The cup before him sat full, untouched by it’s owner. The drink - unfulfilled in it’s purpose - gradually lost the steam that hovered above it as it cooled to room temperature. It was a waste, and Brook was hesitant to waste, but they were docked at an island, and tea was never something they ran out of quickly.
"Coming in late, aren’t you?" Brook asked as the door opened, light filling the previously dark room. Were he to have eyes, the sudden light may have blinded him, but that problem had long since stopped being a problem. "Not that I am to judge, of course." He added quickly, soft laughter the base of his words. "I would be out too if there was somewhere I wanted to be. So if you may, I would love to hear what called you away from our dear ship so late."
My mom took this photo of a cup full of water and she claims it’s the only photo of it’s kind. She has
demandedasked that I assist her in making this photo famous. So, (with the chicken incident still remembered) I turn to tumblr because ya’ll are weirdos who reblog random stuff for random reasons. So have at it.
Being alone isn’t as simple as being hungry or being thirsty. Being alone is a complex feeling that changes and shifts and is felt without reason. People can be alone while being in a crowded room. People can be perfectly fine while being isolated. It isn’t black and white.
It’s possible that loneliness never really leaves you. As Brook stood, playing his violin in a mood opposite to that he felt, he couldn’t supress the chills that ran through him. Death and loneliness shared a temperature. The cloud of your breath draws your attention, the sounds around you falling to a dull murmur as the beat of your heart marks the tempo.
Brook watched his nakama playing around with empy eye sockets. Though his body moved in the typical joyous moves of happiness, his thoughts were everything but. He was thankful that he didn’t need to hide his emotions behind a pitiful empty smile.
Sometimes, Brook couldn’t be sure if he ever truly came back from death. He was stuck in Hell regardless.
What if things had gone just a little bit differently?
"Idiot." Yorki cursed, gripping Brook’s afro so tightly his knuckles screamed in protest. "I told you that I had him! I told you that I could take him myself!" He cried, tears falling down his cheeks. Each drop fell against Brook’s skin, the sound of the splash distinct.
Strength was one of the most important things in Yorki’s life. He had to be strong and brave and everything else possible. Emotionally. Physically. He was strong! He had to be!
But there were nights were he would curl into Brook’s warm body and whisper for his lover to tell him he was strong. Brook would do it without question.
But Brook lied! If Yorki was strong, Brook would still be alive! Brook would be in his arms and they would be kissing and cursing and crying but they would be alive.
Brook looked on in sadness. He needed to help Yorki. Yorki was only strong when he had a reason to be strong… Brook was always his reason. Damn this Yomi Yomi no Mi fruit! Shouldn’t he be back in his body? His soul hovered around, forced to witness the mourning of his own self. He raised his hand over Yorki’s shoulder, afraid to touch the man only to have his hand go right through him.
"How can I be there for you?" Brook murmured, tears cascading down his cheeks. "Let me make you strong again."
i HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. SKUUUULL JOOOOOKE. /mun being a total idiot ignore me
"He was a great man who did indeed wear a cowboy hat."