#noble-senpai

[jenskuli]

Congratulations Noble! I am so proud of you, wish you the best and good things in life. Love your videos and your beautiful face <3 *hugs*

[penciladdictontheweb]

Watch the white boy dance. SERIOUSLY. I DIED WATCHING THAT. NOBLE YOU FABULOUS BASTARD YOU MADE ME SPILL TEA ON MY POOR CROTCH!

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Yup... YouTube is yet again under attack from the evils of the interwebs and thus I can't watch my Noble... Fffffffffffffff-

Ego: Calm down already... It's not that bad.

Id: Speak for yourself! Now we can't watch our almighty Senpai do his cracks!

Alex: Don't worry Id. We can pull through this together.

Id: You know how to comfort me so Alex.

Ego: Oh my god I live with the most Weebo consciousness' ever...

Id: Well at least we care that YouTube is attacking Noble-Senpai again!

Ego: He's not under attack by YouTube. If fact, it's more like YouTube itself is under attack from our crummy internet connection.

Alex: Now now... Let's just get along please.

 In brief, I am agitated, but amused that I can make jokes at something as stupid as this...

[precious-writer-of-sin]

CW Assignment: “Classified Ad”

(So a couple months back for a Creative Writing assignment, we were to pick out a personalized newspaper ad advertising an item to be sold. I picked a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Our goal for the assignment is to create a backstory, a reason why the person decided to sell the motorcycle. I decided to write about one of my favorite YouTubers (Lost Pause aka Noble-Senpai_ and his- at the time- recently acquired mascot, Lily. This is what I wrote.

Note: I don’t typically write about real people. I don’t like to. This was just for an assignment, and I’m happy with how it turned out. Lost Pause is his own person, and Lily belongs to him. I have no idea who the original owner of the advertisement is. With that being said, enjoy the fanfiction!)

As Lily finished replacing the pistons through the motorbike’s underbelly, she heard the heavy footsteps of excited feet. A pitter-pattering she knew well.

“Lily!” called her young master and childhood friend, Noble. “Lily!”

The foxgirl mechanic wheeled herself out from beneath the bike and stood up. She was in her mechanic’s garb- a white sports’ bra and brown leather pants, her burnt sienna jacket tied around her waist. Everything was black with oil and grime from the routine maintenance check. She vainly wiped it off, but only rubbed it further into the fabrics. Another stain to prove her passion to her duties. She looked up at the brown-haired man as he ran inside her workshop. “Yeah, Master?”

The young master was holding onto a newspaper. When he reached her, he unfolded it, the innards scattering everywhere in his eager search for one specific section. When he found it, he showed her, pointing to a tiny, classified ad in the corner of the page. Lily was impressed with his ability to find anything in that mess of tiny, black-and-white pint.

“You’re really sellin’ your motorcycle?!” he asked her, sounding incredulous. Lily nodded. “Why?”

The foxgirl shrugged. “Need the cash,” she responded simply, casually, her tail waving behind her.

Noble tilted his head. He was a grown man now, with a thin, scruffy goatee and a man’s physique, but Lily could still see the little boy she grew up with in his young eyes and plump, boyish face. “But… why?” he asked. “What’s the money for? Can I help? It must be real bad if you’re sellin’ your precious cycle!”

Lily averted her eyes for a moment. She’s known him since she was a kit. Back then, the masters and the servants weren’t allowed to mingle so casually, yet Lily and Noble had frequently disobeyed those orders time and time again. They got into trouble, sure, but they had already formed an unbreakable bond of friendship. Eventually, Noble’s parents and Lily’s dad gave up trying to keep them apart. The two trusted each other with everything, but this time, it was a lot more serious than the “crush-of-the-week” or sneaking off to a party in the dead of night.

But this is Noble! Her best-ever friend! She could talk to him! She had to tell someone, at least, and who better to confide in than him? Lily’s sandy, beige-colored ears flattened in resignation, and she sighed. “Fine,” she said, and Noble lit up. Together, as one, they sat down among the stray bolts and tools that littered the surface of her workbench.

“So,” Noble began, “what happened?”

-----

Lily loved her motorcycle. It was gift from her late father, a massive hulk of a foxman who seemed to know everything about machines and how to fix them. He taught her everything he knew about mechanics, drilling it into her when she was young and not spending time with the young master Noble. He knew that she was to take over the masters’ garage and be the family’s mechanic once he was gone, and he wanted to make sure she did her absolute best. So, when she was old enough, her Father gave her a motorcycle: a Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide 2009. Noble’s father, the Head of the House, had found it in disrepair on the side of the road and had brought it home to the garage. He had been an apprentice to the head mechanic at the time, and from that moment on, that motorcycle became his life’s work. Piece by piece, the duo had restored the bike to its former glory. Afterwards, it became their ride in and out of the city, used for errands, mainly, but her father, once he grew older, snuck out often to go see Lily’s mother and woo her on dates, driving her around on that new-looking cycle.

Lily hadn’t meant to kill him. She was only defending herself, or at least, she thought so. Foxgirls were naturally strong and feisty, and Lily was no exception.

When she came out of the auto shop with a bunch of parts, she had just settled down on the seat when she felt a knife to her back. Immediately, she stiffened, her body going rigid, her ears and tail sticking straight up and still.

“Gimmie all yo’ money,” a gruff voice said, “then remove yo’ clothes and lie on yo’ back.”

Lily only had seconds to think. “I used up the rest of my paycheck on my purchase,” she lied, and she slowly stood up. The knife pressed into her further, than retreated when she crossed her hands over her chest and gripped the edges of her sports’ bra. It was then that she whirled around and struck him with such a force that he went flying, his pale body connecting with the wall of the shop and making a sickening crunch! sound.

The mechanic waited, the adrenaline through her body making her breaths seem loud and her body unnaturally still as she was poised to defend herself. The man didn’t get up. Lily waited. He still didn’t move. Tears pricked her eyes. Would she go to jail? Anthros like herself were hardly allowed in public on their own without a special license, and she just killed a human man!

Lily panicked. She thought quickly, again, her mind racing far faster than usual because of the endorphins rushing through her. She had to hide the body. She looked around. Nighttime was alive with racing cars and neon lights, but the auto shop, close to closing for the day, was empty and void of life. She untied the jacket around her waist and positioned she and the body on the cycle so that it looked as if they were a couple riding together, when in reality she just needed to anchor the corpse to her. She shuddered at the limpness of the body, already cold after minutes of death. She turned the engine on, secured her groceries, and sped off.

The foxgirl kept to the backroads, paths less traveled by folks at night, and she stopped at the opening to a heavily-forested bike path. A sign swung from a chain that said, “Trespassers will be prosecuted”, which reassured her as she slung the corpse over her shoulder and stepped over the low-hanging chain.

She could see tracks on the ground, indents where frisky teenagers and inherent ne’er-do-wells ignored the signs and hung out regardless. She traveled along those for a while, then swerved to a denser part of the forest, where there were less marks on the ground. She found a large bush, and it was here that she dumped it, adjusting leaves to cover the gaps and hiding her secret for what she hoped was forever. On her walk back, she kept looking over her shoulder, fretting, worrying that someone had already found it, or, ridiculously, that the body wasn’t actually dead, despite her feeling the nonexistence of his breath on the way here, and it was running after her right now, determined to kill her. She didn’t even know his name! She supposed that, whomever he was, that he wasn’t actually a bad guy, he just made a bad decision, and that he had made peace with his maker.

Her face set and determined, Lily sat back down on her motorcycle. Maybe it was her hypersensitive nose, but she could smell death in the leather of her seat, could hear his voice when she started the engine. His weight leaning on hers as she rode home. She figured this feeling would go away, but the next few rides were no different. It became an ordeal; she couldn’t sleep, lost her appetite most nights, and frequently- too frequently- looked over her shoulder.

That was when she decided to sell her precious cycle. If she was ever to gain back her peace of mine, she had to get rid of it. It killed her to part with her father’s gift, but she didn’t exactly need it to feel close to him. She had his workshop, the many hours he had spent toiling away, tinkering with automobiles and other machines. She felt her father every time she completed a task, and a demon whenever she rode her motorcycle.

And the cycle had to go.

----

Noble just stared at her when she was done. Lily bit her lip.

“So… that’s it,” she said with finality, slapping her thighs with her hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked abruptly. Lily looked over to him.

“Noble, that doesn’t matter-”

“Of course it matters!” he burst out. Lily fell quiet. She could sense a Noble Rant coming on.

“Lily, screw that guy! You’re waaaay more important that he is! You’re smart, awesome, and one helluva mechanic. I’d rather him be dead than alive, ‘cause he’d’ve been much more likely to do something to someone else much weaker than you if you let him live.”

“But- Noble, I-”

He suddenly reached over and hugged her to him, her face against his chest. Lily wasn’t one for physical contact, normally, but when she felt a tear plop down on her head, she allowed it and hugged him back.

“You are much more than he was, Lil,” he said solemnly. “And I’m glad you’re alive and not-raped. You’re a strong girl, and I’m proud to call you my friend, regardless of whether you killed someone or not.”

Lily could hear his heart beating fast with all this emotion, and she felt lips kiss the crown of her head, right between her ears. She closed her hazel-green eyes and smiled contently. She felt much better now.

“Heh, thanks, Nobes,” she told him softly, giving him a squeeze in return. “Thanks.”