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01/17/2022 08:08 PM 


Olivia.  The year 2010. The Rouge had just won SoundWave Music Competition. They worked so hard for this. They earned this, now it was time to celebrate. There she was standing front and center. Alex gave him a little shove to his shoulder wiggling his brows at Wes "Go talk to her" Alex put his hand on Wesley's shoulder, pushing him towards the edge of the stage - f***in Irish. "Go get her tiger" Alex put two thumbs up. Making his way off the stage he approached the group of girls. "Hi .. I'm Wesley -uhm well Wes" the male stuttered. Of course he was nervous. Normally Wesley wouldn't bother approaching anyone, not that he didn't want a relationship it was that he was more awkward than anything.  "I know" the blonde responded "Olivia, OliviaTyler". She placed her hand inside of his, a light giggle escaping her lips. That was it. From that moment on the pair were inseparable. Olivia Tyler. She was chaos in the form of a blue-eyed blonde haired beauty. Captivating him the moment she walked into his life. Is this what love was supposed to feel like. Like you can't be without one another. Consumed by her intoxicating allure.  He used to reach his hand out, wrap his arm around her and pull her back into his chest. Loving the warmth of her body beside his. Now when he reaches out he feels nothing but the empty cold bed beside him. Nights were once filled with love and laughter. Hiding beneath the sheets wrapped up in each other - have turned to Wes laying awake wondering where it all went wrong.  May 2015.  "Wes?" God he loved the way she said his name. "Yeah, babe?" His fingers plucked at the guitar in his lap, the chords they weren't right. "I'm late" she said from the other room. "Late? Late for wot? It's ten after seven, thought we weren't goin anywhere tonight" he heard her scoff then the sound of her feet coming out of the bathroom. "Dammit, Wes. I'm late." He still wasn't understanding what she could be late for. Looking up from his guitar he smiled at her as she stood in from of him "Again, late for wot?" She extended her hand out. He looked down and that's when he realized what she meant by late. F***. There it was clear as day 'pregnant'. Olivia was pregnant.  The next eight months seemed like they flew by. Between getting things ready for the baby and the band it was January before they knew it. January 21 2016, Theodore Wyatt Myers was born. The moment he met his son everything fell into place. This is who he was supposed to be. Not a rockstar, traveling the world. He was meant to be a father. This little boy was now his everything.  April 2016.  "I can't do this anymore" Olivia hung her head as she stood by the front door, bags in hand. "So then go, Liv." Wesley rocked their son in his arms. He could this without her. He wouldn't abandon their baby, a baby she insisted on keeping.  Over the next few years there had been countless times he typed and deleted the same message over and over again.  I'm sorry. I miss you. Come home.  Would it make a difference if he sent it. Would she come home. Would she said she missed him too. Would she even care that it was her who destroyed him. He was falling, slipping deeper and deeper into the place he swore he'd never go again. One to many drinks. Way to many tears spilled. She left him broken into pieces. Walked away like it didn't even matter.  It was days until his son would be turning six. The little light of his life. "Papa?" His little voice rang through the hall. "Hmm?" Wes got up from the sofa poking his head out to where his son was standing by the front door, post in hand. "Who's Olivia?" He stared at the boy, their matching blue eyes locking. "Why do you ask?" Theo held up an envelope "It has my name on it and it says it's from Olivia". Sh*t


01/17/2022 11:18 PM 


serpent juliet angel The sensation of dirt and earth caked into her nails from her time in the man-made hole was the first thing she remembered when she awoke in the hospital. TBK had dug several spots, and she had fallen into one of them. The only thing that set her apart from the other women was that she lived to tell the tale. Unfortunately, her nurse, Liz, pumped her full of morphine to reduce the discomfort to a minimum after undergoing multiple surgeries on her arm. Due to her two weeks in hell, she was dehydrated and deprived of nutrition. During that period, TBK had not provided her with any food.Her thoughts wandered to some of the most bizarre hallucinations she had had when under the effect of the medications against her choice. TBK, whatever he was, had kept her drugged only for the sake of amusement. Had continued to play cat-and-mouse games with her. Betty had gone into his lair to fetch Mary home and ended up being abducted herself — the worst part was that Mary was already dead when Betty arrived. She recalls the headlights from when her FBI team discovered her two weeks later - how Glenn was the first face she saw and how she hoped it was someone else's.However, such is not the case. She wouldn't be able to get there. She was adamant that she would not go. After all, when Liz asked if she had anyone she wanted to contact, she had declined. There was no one around. She said it with all seriousness. Her stay in the hospital was dominated by feeding tubes and arm physical therapy. She had her work cut out for her, but the doctors assured her that she would overcome her obstacles if she fought hard enough. She prayed it was correct. Hope was odd for her; it came and went in waves. It was there one minute, then vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving her to fend for herself.It doesn't matter. She was pretty skilled at it.She sighed and leaned back in her pillow, wondering when she'd be allowed to leave the hospital. It didn't appear like it was going to happen any time soon. The doctors insisted on putting some weight back on her. Then it didn't bother her that she was now nothing but skin and bones. It demonstrated what she had to go through and endure.She was discharged from the hospital two weeks later. She knew she needed to return to work, but Glenn and the special agent therapist hadn't given her the green light yet. So she sat at home while she wasn't at work, and when she was at work, she sat behind a desk and did the bare minimum. Glenn didn't want her out on the field just yet, claiming that her mental health was suffering. It's not even close to being worth it.She kept herself occupied by reading case files and keeping a murder board pinned up in her bedroom to attempt to figure out where TBK was and who his next victim would be. She wasn't sure, but she knew she shouldn't have lived, and yet she did. She's at risk of being kidnapped once more. That's why she kept her doors closed at all times and carried her gun with her almost all of the time, even when she ran to the store.It was a complete disaster. home comment message gallery stream blog If I was an angel I'd use only pretty words And when I'm talking to you It would never hurt You'd only get the best of me I'd never make you wanna leaveI'd pull you out of the darkness Keep you out of the rain Everything would be better You'd never have to change You'd never have to change

яєℓυ¢тαηт нувяι∂

01/17/2022 10:53 PM 

Mystic Falls Crew

My Best Friend Bonnie

𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀.

01/17/2022 02:15 PM 


Alright, let's just get this out of the way because I already know people are going to be ridiculous.001: No assumed ships or smut. No, I don't care if Cassie canonically slept with your character on the show. No, I don't care if you ship them in your mind. And no, I do not exist to serve you and (despite how my character canonically behaves) neither does my muse. Period. I will block anyone who can't act like a decent human being ooc. 002: No god modding. Prompts for drabbles are a different story. If it's a prompt for a starter practice caution.003: This portrayal is meant to expose why aspiring to be this character is maybe not the best idea? And romanticizing what she does is definitely not a good idea. Please respect my portrayal.004: I can already see the people who are half ooc/half ic trying to use this portrayal to make them feel better on a personal level. I am not here to serve you as a writer, and neither is Cassie. I don't recommend doing that. It's different if we know each other like that as writers, but I don't even really want to be doing that. I am me, and Cassie is Cassie. And neither myself or Cassie solely exists to cheer you up. 005: I'm not sure if I'm going to be shipping this character at all yet. Don't bug me about it. If you have a storyline idea, though, feel free to hit me up about it.That's all I've got for now, thanks.

Euphoria, Cassie Howard, rules


01/17/2022 02:12 PM 

Task #4

Task #4This task is mandatory, failure to finish this task will lead to a warning.For this task it is a moodboard and drabble.You will take one of your characters secrets and make a drabble about it.I can be how the secret became a secret, what lead to it being so hush hush.You must also create a moodboard for your drabble.1. Moodboard needs 6-9 pictures.2. Your drabble must be 3 paragraphs long minimum, it can be longer if you want there is not limit to how long it has to be.3. GET CREATIVEPlease DO NOT submit your task to the members messages it will not count for points, submit the link to your moodboard/drabble in this blog.DUE: January 29, 2022 - 9pm est - 6pm pst


01/17/2022 01:36 PM 

Activity Check #04

Activity Check #4PART ONE: It is Writing Weeks for the next two weeks which means get to sending out those replies and starters or you can also be on discord getting some banters done.. There are a few writing pieces you can submit.1. 4 writing peices whether it is a starter or reply.2. 2 writing peices whether its a starter or reply and 3 recent discord banters3. 1 peice of writing whether it's a starter or reply and 5 recent discord banters4. 6 recent discord banters.failure to complete this mandatory activity check will result in a warning, you must submit screenshoots in this blog.DO NOT submit your screenshots through members messages.PART TWO:1x1 Discord Blast RPMeaning in one of the locations in the group server blast you must create drama with your writing partner that was randomly given to you. Unfortunately we have 13 members meaning 1 person will have an extra partner.1. Must have 5 post mimimum from each of you.2. Must be para3. Must be in a location within the group server4. If it cannot be done please notify an admin right away. If you partner hasn't responded to you within 48 hours let an admin know right away so we can properly give you a new writing partner.Writing Partners:Maverick x PenelopeParker x JasminePeyton x AugustusDamien x MarcellusColton x BlakeChloe x LolliAsher x ParkerDUE DATE: January 29, 2022 - 9pm EST - 6pm PST

[ 𝕏 ] 𝕄arks 𝕋he 𝔻octor!

01/17/2022 12:34 PM 

Post Miracle Day

"They said it was like a breath... the breath that went around the whole wide world. The last breath, and then no more. We said goodbye to them then. The dad's and mum's -- the sick and old -- the friends and neighbors... the people we once met, and the people who's names we never knew. We said goodbye to them all... on the day that death came back..." -- Gwen CooperTwo weeks later...Church bells commemorate the end of a full funeral service for Esther Drummond. A CIA Agent who was wrapped in the task of defusing the events forever labelled as "the Miracle." While the mission to reset the world to it's natural state was a success it claimed her life. Her team mates were at her funeral session, their singing voices among the greater crowd. Friends and family were there as well as practically an army of CIA agents. Some habits die hard though. even in a church setting. Every single one of them still carried their badge and firearm -- even in a peaceful place likes church.Two figures were waiting outside, watching as the many figures began to exit the church. A man and woman dressed in black from head to toe -- literally. The man in a black suit and turtle neck with dress shirt and gloves. Strapped to his side was a pistol. The woman was dressed in a black jumpsuit with a leather jacket and boots. Strapped to her back was a sniper rifle and shotgun, to her side was a pistol and to her right thigh was a short blade. Both bearing a sleek helmet style mask meant to hide all facial features behind layers of tinted glass.Not a single soul at the funeral noticed them.... because they didn't want to be. Both wearing hidden means of cloaking technology so that the people around them would always see past them. Like as if their mind simply didn't want to register that anyone was there at all. Otherwise these two would have stuck out like a sore thumb."Why are we here?" the woman asked, her voice changed by the mechanical means of her helmet. Sounding more like a monotone droid than a woman."I have a theory.... there is no access to the Blessing now, but I can sense a change. Temporary but it would be enough to put our mission back in the running," the man said as he stood with his hands tucked into his pockets.And so the church courtyard was silent, except for the passing footprints as people left the area. It was like they needed to get out of this area. The last thing they wanted was to be there -- and who could blame them. Death was back to the world which meant that the professional boom related to it would skyrocket. likely the authorities expect the people of the world to test the waters. It's been a number of months since the Miracle began so is it really over?"Charlotte!!" came Rex Matheson's voice from the entry hall of the church.From the windows the two could see the four figures of the team walking. A revelation had hit Rex hard, leading him to run after Agent Charlotte Wells. She turned to shoot him only to have the armed agents take her down in a lethal rain of fire. The man in his dark mask gave out a harsh painful sigh as he hung his head a bit. This was a kind of headache he faced and had to ignore ever since the world was restored... but he would deal with it. There was something he needed to see. The moments passed slowly until suddenly Rex's body jolted and he gasped back to life."Temporary, Irin?" the woman next to him asked and the man gave a light nod."It's not what it looks like... but it is a problem. We need to make sure he stays as far away from the rift as possible. Let him search for an answer for Rex elsewhere..." the man said."The Families will come down on both of them," the woman said."The mission stays the same as it was through the Miracle. Captain Jack Harkness is still our top priority..."With that said the two turned to walk off across the distance, to an SUV they had parked by the emergency curb. He climbed into the driver's seat as she removed her guns to circle to the other side. Cloaking tech went down and the two masked figures drove off to gather what they need for the next phase of the plan. For now, they needed to let Captain Harkness smoulder in the idea that Rex Matheson can come back to life...

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:21 PM 


    poppies Pop, pop, pop...pop, pop...pop, pop... The deafening sounds ripped through the hazy membrane of the overwhelming fear and bleariness she's found herself, suddenly, birthed from. Before her, born from both her panic and terrible vengeance...  They bloom. So vividly burning red...  Poppies, perhaps? They swiftly burst forth... Blooming violently upon a startling swath of pure white. The inevitable quiet that comes next is maddening, as the burning pit of abject despair gradually grows from within. Then in a frantic rush, a miasma of gunpowder and butchered meat burst forth around her to scarcely bring her mind back into harsh, sudden focus... Now?  She must bear witness to the unfortunate byproduct of her adrenaline-filled whirlwind of acute pain and rage. The cosmic dust forcibly settled. The eternal dice have been rolled... All the bad inevitably comes into sudden focus... There irretrievably withdraws a critical part of her wounded soul.

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:20 PM 

owwc; coping

It was overwhelmingly just like a lucid dream.     Coping Prompt It was overwhelmingly just like a lucid dream. How she made it out from the derelict warehouse that Mr. Wesley kidnapped her to and down to the docks was hazy at best. Karen knew damned well that she needed to get rid of the gun she had, indeed, just assassinated him with in order to protect her own personal safety. Where was the best place to lose things you wished to stay lost? Why the docks were the best place to throw away dreadful things that you did not wish to come back to you. It had altogether been such a rush to flee the scene of the crime after she awoke from her living nightmare. All Karen could do was hope and pray that she hadn't left any remnants behind for the police to put the puzzle pieces together and secure her picture. All that kept going through her head were just two words: 'What if? What if? What if...' Did she inadvertently leave any hair strands behind? Saliva? Fingerprints?   It next took an anxious hour of walking the meatpacking district toward something more inhabited so that she may be able to hail a cab in order to get back to her meager apartment. Finally, at this late hour, Karen was able to flag down a cab that would be able to take her back to her home base. The ride from where she picked up the cab to where her apartment was was a pretty short-lived ride, to be honest. So, once the cab driver came to a stop and he told her the cost of the car ride, the cabbie said three times in an ordinary tone of voice that they had arrived at her destination but his words couldn't get through the high-pitched tones that rung in Karen's ears as she replayed the incident over and over again in her mind. Suddenly, the man in the front seat completely cleared his throat and practically yelled out to Karen, "HELLO? Miss, you owe ten dollars and ninety cents," his voice frightened Karen to her core. Once she came out of her reverie, she actually jumped in her seat. Karen pulled out a 20-dollar bill which was way, way more than the actual cost of the ride which she promptly threw at him before she up and ran from the vehicle.   Nearly tripping over her own feet as the shabby car suddenly sped up; tires squealing as it pulled away. She ran frantically up her front steps to her apartment building's front door. In her panic, Karen couldn't get her shaky hands to cooperate as she attempted to retrieve the proper key to unfasten said door. She reluctantly began to almost sob when her key ring fell numbly out of her hands to the concrete porch below. The adrenaline was ultimately beginning to wear off, and Karen could inevitably feel her entire body vibrating as if she were a tuning fork and the cosmos were striking at the metal to make the sound ripple up over her spine and throughout her entire being.   "Keep it together, Page...just a few more steps," Karen reluctantly began to speak to herself as if it by force were a personal mantra...A desperate prayer to her entire person. "Just a few more steps...just keep moving...keep''re almost there,"  her hoarse voice cracked as the ragged tears suddenly sprung forth and slid hotly down her burning cheeks. On shaky legs, she bent over to grasp desperately at her keys. It forcefully took her, at least, four times to try to pick them back up again because she couldn't see through the moist shroud veiling her eyes nor could she get her body to cooperate with her mind because her hands were trembling so wildly. At long last, she made it inside the apartment complex, and as soon as the flimsy door to her apartment was opened, Karen had slammed said door behind her with her foot as her hands ripped at her confining, almost strangling, clothing. Shedding each piece with a sob; the cloth inadvertently left a chaotic trail to the flimsy door of her bathroom behind her. Turning on the shower spray; Karen made sure to merely twist it all the way up to its highest setting as she stepped inside it. Too numb to feel how much it burned against her unusually pale and sensitive flesh. It cascaded over her sore head and down over her even more sore back; lashing her like a cruel whip might because it left long, bright red stripes all over her back and then down over the rest of her skin. With a coarse cloth and much too much soap, Karen scrubbed at her flesh in a vain attempt to remove the layers of blood spatter she felt colored all over her body. All she could undertake was to stand there under the stinging spray as her small bathroom became muggy and humid from the heat of the water. Karen felt like she might never remove the rust-colored patterns from her hands and arms no matter how long she continued to rub over the exposed flesh until it was completely raw. When she could scrub no longer, Karen slid down the side of the slick bathroom tiles to crouch inside her bathtub. Burning tears flowed down rose crimson cheeks as they slowly mixed with the shower spray and circled themselves down the water drain. The burning water was beating her down as much as her guilt and panic had been. It wasn't until the water had turned ice cold and sluiced over her skin in painful waves that Karen had decided it was time to step out and dry off.   Shuffling her way out of the fog that collected in the small bathroom space. She gradually moved about her shabby apartment like a zombie as she tried drying herself off. Without a thought, she moved to her closet so that she may retrieve a fresh pair of pajamas to pull on. In her haze; Karen moved uneasily about her dismal place as if she were merely a ghost; all hollow and broken inside. Barely clinging to this cruel world by a very tenuous thread that led to her frail humanity. Once she was enwrapped, Karen shuffled over to her kitchenette to seize herself a half-full bottle of rotgut whiskey and she cracked open the lid as she barely moved from her leaning position against the worn countertop. The bottle was snatched to her mouth, as she began to take long, slow swallows of the burning liquid without bothering to pull the bottle away. There was no stopping or quenching her thirst, no matter how much it burned her throat and made her eyes water up with fresh new tears. Would they ever stop? Not sure how long she indeed stood there; drinking as much alcohol as she could possibly handle when she suddenly realized that the bottle was now empty. It made her stomach drop hard. What was she to do now? This...this was her way to cope by not actually coping at all. No, she made sure to repress all the memories in her mind with as much liquid courage as she could humanly tolerate, but it was not enough. Karen didn't think it would ever be enough. Looking dumbly at the emptied bottle, her eyes were dilated and everything within eyesight was seen only in doubles as the room spun around her. Even now, the memory of his body invaded her mind...a ghost of her choices; a terrible memento of everything she tried to make right. The thoughts made her gasp as her pale, thin hand came up to her mouth to stifle the violent gasp that escaped her lips. She needed more, but she also knew that there would never be enough. Never enough to quell her demons, to stifle her fears, to silence her pain.    There had to be more... Pulling open her fridge with a rough tug, Karen examined the near-empty shelves and came eye to eye with more obliteration. Pulling frantically a bottle of beer from the topmost shelf, she had torn off the cap and threw it on the floor before she tipped the neck of the bottle up toward her mouth and began to chug the contents within. As she drank excessively, she shuffled uneasily toward her bedroom and collapsed on the soft mattress with an unusual bit of a bounce. Once she drained the tall neck beer, dry, she barely paid attention to where she tossed the empty remains as she laid back onto the bed and pulled the covers around her sore skin with a sharp hiss. Who knows how long she was sleeping until Wilson Fisk entered her dreams? No matter what she performed, she knew, as she awoke, that this would never go away. There was no way to cope with it...because even her own subconscious could never be subdued...

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:17 PM 

'I don't know how many times I can say sorry feat Frank Castle

'I don't know how many times I can say sorry' "I don't know how many times I can say sorry." Frank and Karen     Frank Castle and Karen Page were like two magnets that always seemed to recognize each other; being drawn to each other by their comparative darkness and their visible light. Frank would never admit it, but he undoubtedly had a vibrant light inside of him that was slowly being swallowed whole by his alter ego; the Punisher. Karen had perceived his brilliant light firsthand, how gentle and caring he was with her, how much he had loved his wife and children and how broken their deaths had left him, and even though it might not make sense to others; to Karen it naturally did...the Punisher was typically born from this fierce light. The Punisher was begotten in answer to the loss of his family and his life with them; convoluted to some, but Karen understood it. That is why she would have gone anywhere with him, do anything to be with him. Karen would help allay his nightmare-fueled fears, would clean his wounds, would go to hell and back for him. He knew it. Even, if at first, all he kept coming back to her for was to get information or use her for bait to get to someone else...there was something else that drew him to *her* each time. There could be others he could have gone to for any of those things, yet he always has chosen her. It was weird, yin and yang symbols usually meant that the woman was darker and more dangerous and the male was the light and more calming. Maybe, for them, they were each both yin and yang to the other. Up until those symbols bled into one another and all encompassed them both. So, when Frank told Karen to go; even though she was willing to give up her life for him, it hurt her to her core. How could she go on without the other half to her whole? She took it somewhat graciously; at first, but with time she got to think about him and dream about the life they could have had. True, it would have been filled with lots of feeling unsure of what the next moment would bring, lots of danger and craziness. Together, though, the light could have grown inside of that bubble. A rare breed of a tree that can only grow in the most hostile of ecosystems but grow it would do, nevertheless. Time had passed, months even, and all too soon; there he was once more. Coming to her to offer protection from her own consequences from when she went up against Fisk. Here he was, offering to help protect her because he didn't think Matt would be enough in this time of need. He might be accurate in that assessment; Fisk remained an intelligent animal that was rabid and once he undoubtedly got a profound sense of something that could endanger him and his private life; he would perform anything to apprehend that danger out of the equation. Now, here was Frank, standing in her living room and offering to represent as a spare set of eyes. All it achieved was to rub her the wrong way and that was because she was upset over other things between them. People endured a hell of a time really pinpointing their exact feelings of anger or pain and addressing them properly. Karen was no exception. "Why bother, Frank? You intentionally left. I willingly let you. Why do you feel the need to indeed remain here?" She bit out venomously to him and crossed her shapely arms before she headed off to the kitchen to brew coffee just to be doing something else than to be standing there just looking at him. Karen desperately wanted to grab his jacket lapels and yell at him to promptly get the hell out and do not come back. Eagerly tell him she didn't need him nor pine for him to be around. Frank, gently running a deft hand over his determined face than before looking to the side for a moment before he spoke to her once more. "Look, you require some protection!" He stated angrily. "Oh, so now it's all right to be here...As long as you can execute someone? I correctly see through you, Frank. You merely want an excuse to kill Fisk. This isn't about me at all. Just..." She intentionally turned from him, so he couldn't see the passionate tears in her brilliant eyes as she carefully poured distilled water into the coffee pot. "Damnit, Karen...yes, I want to kill Fisk. Agreed, yes. That's not..." he stopped talking and set his bag down onto the ground by the coffee table. He sighed heavily and instantly ran his thumb over the side of his distinctive nose. "That's not why I am here," he said more in a low voice. Karen scoffed and shook her head. "Bullsh*t, Frank. Bullsh*t!" She yelled back vehemently. "You are just here to use me once again, as per usual. For bait, for info, to get what you want," she slammed the sugar container onto the counter and it spilled out from the top as the lid bounced off of it. As it settled the granules began covering the counter and her hands in fine white powder. Frank took a step toward her, his expression and the tension in his shoulders getting more intense. "No! Look, I can't...I came back to keep you safe," he ground out the last few familiar words. "I can properly take care of myself, Frank! I can and have for a long time now, I don't seek your protection," she said gruffly as her cheeks began turning red and her pulse began getting faster the angrier she got with him. Almost yelling it out to him, "I am not yours to fiercely protect!" Frank, about to explode at her about how Fisk represented a scared animal that wouldn't stop coming for her and how Matt was not the type to do the right thing and kill to keep Fisk and his minions at bay suddenly softened at her last words. His hands had been balled up in fists at his side, and his nostrils had flared a bit as he was about to ream her out about poking a vicious animal with a stick when it all deflated from him. "Karen," he stated her name very softly as he stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder. Wanting to persuade her to turn and look at him. Karen instantly felt his gentle hand on her shapely shoulder, and she spun on him, fierce pain and heartbreak brilliantly colored her notable features as the copious tears were now flowing down her cheeks. "What?" She spits out in understandable anger and pain. Frank put both of his hands on her shoulders and jerked her toward him. Karen didn't go willingly at first; she was obstinate, and it showed in everything she routinely undertook. As a result, she resisted him, but Frank was adamant about gathering her closer to him. Once he influenced her to the point that he could wrap his arms around her in a hug; he hauled her into one. "I'm sorry, okay. I was afraid of you getting hurt because of me. I don't know how many times I can say that I am sorry," he properly said close to her eager ear. It was soft enough for only her to overhear him speak which made Karen's anger gradually dissipate as her entire body slumped against him. Both of her shapely arms wrapped around him possessively and grasped him against her so that she could feel the steady beating of his heart in his chest-beating in response to the more elevated beating of her own.  

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:15 PM 

Character Study; Karen Page

20 ? Character Study. Karen Freaking Page 20 Question Character Study. 1. (Describe your character's first love?) My first love was Todd, which was unfortunate looking back on it now. He was a drug dealer, and I was selling drugs for him to help keep our diner afloat which should have been a red flag. Yet, Todd seemed to care about my emotional well being and cared for me as a person; something I was lacking greatly at the time. 2. (What frightens your character?)   Wilson Fisk, Losing Matt to this double life of broke me when he decided to disappear after Midland Circle and then pretended to stay dead even though he wasn't. The fact that he pushed me away on so many occasions with both Elektra and then after his big showdown with the Hand. I support him a 100 percent but it makes me afraid I will lose 1 half of the family I have found after everything that has happened. 3. (How does your character communicate in a relationship?)   With Hope, love, loyalty, vulnerability, caring, communication and a take no bullsh*t attitude. 4. (What was your character's childhood like?) Stressful after my mother died of cancer. When she did, it fell to me to take care of my family as well as to make money on the side to help pay for our failing diner. Fagan's Corner was a rundown town that when the park closed by our diner, it began to fail. I fell into a life of drugs and bad decisions. Plus, my father favored my brother, and we rarely go along. My brother was my only anchor. 5. (What is your character's favorite treat to themselves?)   Books, books and more books. Albums too, the real deal; vinyl. 6. (How does your character handle stress?) Alcohol, copious amounts of it which isn't the best way to go about it. Sometimes, I might even get back into drugs, but that is a beast I haven't dabbled in too much lately, thankfully. 7. (Describe something your character is reluctant for others to know?) That I assassinated a man for threatening to go after my family and me. Also, the fact that it was all of my poor decisions and my own actions that killed my baby brother. 8. (Describe something your character is passionate about?) Justice, full stop. And literature. I can devour a book in no time, but my biggest passion is getting the justice for those who can't get it themselves and to always uncover the truth; no matter how far I have to go to get it, how much research, the shady people I talk to, the paperwork I will find. I will dig down until I get to the grizzle and bone. 9. (What does your character find comfort in?)   My friends; who are my family and my work and immersing myself into the world of whatever book I am reading currently. 10.(What music does your character like?)   Old school classic rock, hard rock, some classical, the blues because my mother used to play it a lot growing up. Not just the easy blues but the more raunchy stuff too. Some metal. 11.(Quickest way to anger your character?)   To act like I cannot take care of myself. I've been doing it for years. Also, to underestimate me in anyway. 12. (What's the best thing in your life?) Finding Matt and Foggy, well, no...them finding me and my budding relationships with Ellis and Urich. Two men who became like father figures and mentors.   13. (What would your character give their life for?)   An innocent person. I would throw myself in front of a train if it meant I could save someone. 14. (What seemingly insignificant memories has stuck with your character?)   The smell of the fish market that Foggy took me too. Then again, it's not that insignificant because he took me out that whole night; after all of the truly evil things that happened to me with Union Allied just to show me that Hell's Kitchen wasn't so bad. So, I can't think of any. 15. (Does your character have a nickname?)   Pain in the ass or stubborn. Everyone I've ever met. I guess it says something about myself. 16. (Who does your character consider a role model?) Ben Urich. He pointed out I had a good investigative nose, he acted like the father I never had, called me out on my b. Showed me the ropes and loved me no matter my failings. 17. (What is your characters hobby?)   Reading books, trying to learn the guitar; I've gotten better and collecting vinyl records. 18. (Describe your characters worst enemy?) Wilson Fisk, full stop. Probably Loki just because his actions in NYC in 2012 introduced the snowball that became an avalanche of Fisk taking over Hell's Kitchen and doing everything he could to crush the people there so he could get the perfect, gentrified, refined Hell's Kitchen he thought he deserved. 19. (What does your character do when they wake up?) Coffee, coffee, shower, coffee, walk to work. 20. (A memory your character wishes they could erase?) The day my life fell apart in Fagan's Corner when my brother set my druggie Bf's camper on fire because I was going down a extremely dark road. Todd tried to kill my brother with a tire iron, so I shot him and then we got into his truck. I had no business driving since I was drunk and high. I urged my brother why?He said because he already lost mom. In shock, I shifted my eyes off the road, and the car hit a median. When I woke up, the car was overturned on the roof and my brothers head was caved in next to me. I tried supporting my dad with the funeral, but they covered up who caused his death in the papers and my father disowned me. Created by Patriot

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:15 PM 

How can I help? Feat Natasha Romanoff

"How can I help out, Natasha?"     Karen had been on the run from Fisk herself, usually, since she and the fellows had charged after him hard to put him in prison. Then, Midland circle happened, and Matt died...or did he? The whispers flew around that Matt went off to be with Elektra, the woman he emotionally cheated on her with while she and Matt had been together. In her suffering and anger, Karen thought a shift of scenery would be for the best and that she settled herself into hiding out in San Fransisco. With her resources though, and the fact that she was even keeping tabs on both Matt and Fisk; Karen had found out that Fisk was heading to this side of the country but she wasn’t clear why? That time, she had been working at home, the narrative she had been working on was about some Roxxon chemicals poisoning a water feed in a rinky dinky town in the northern part of California. Karen had her work board set up, and a multitude of papers strewn around the condo as she was trying to set together with the narrative she had thus far. It was an involved tale, and she was growing an enormous headache from it, so she grabbed a recess and retired to relax out on her terrace with a bottle of booze to decompress for about an hour. When her phone buzzed, it made her jump slightly because she assumed she had turned it off. She didn’t recognize the number, but she was expecting a contact call from two C.I.’s for her article and assumed it could be one of them. “Karen Page speaking,” she said as she touched the green button on her phone. The tone of a familiar woman’s speech caused her to sit up and listen harder. The woman was whispering, but Karen could kind of pluck out the tone of her voice; it sounded familiar. Karen listened keenly as she spoke. *“Karen. It’s Natasha. You might not remember me, but I’m going, to be honest here,” she said as low as she could, more out of breath than she ever thought she’d be. “You’re the only person I can trust right now. Or who I even know in this godforsaken city. Mind helping me out?”* “Natasha? I recall you?” How could she not? The woman was gorgeous, lethal, and significant to Matt. That made her unforgettable. The rest of her remarks made Karen pause for all of a moment before she talked swiftly. “Yes...I can help you. How should we conduct this? Do you require me to come to pick you up?” She wavered and thought about it. If Nat was in trouble, it had to be Considerable trouble. “Tell me what you need?” No matter what Natasha’s rationales were for calling on her, Karen would never leave another person hanging.  

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:14 PM 

THE CRIME MEME; would you commit one?

THE CRIME MEMECURRENT MOOD:   INQUISITIVECrime... It happens every day for so many different reasons. Here and now, you must commit a crime and there seems to be nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Whatever your reasons; this has taken up all of your energy, skills, needs, desires, or desperation.A. You have been the hero for so long that you've become seriously jaded with your mission statement. To you, life, and your drive that has made you a hero; has lost all of their flavor and meaning. Suddenly, all of your previous goals or motivations have become lost to you and, honestly, they have been for a long time. Well, you've subconsciously been missing all the red flags that have been waving in your face for a long time now; the ones that everyone else has noticed, and you've ignored their worry and protests for quite some time now. You've slowly slid into this new narrative and now it's time for a change; it's time to shake things up and cause a bit of chaos.Your foil? You are a career criminal, but you've seen way too many deaths and way too much destruction to last you a few lifetimes. Something in your life has changed; and what "it" is... Well, it is a big one.Maybe, you have found true love and a family that you wish to keep safe, so you've begun to walk the straight and narrow? You see the world with new eyes; now you only see all the "sons and daughters, husbands or wives," in all the faces that pass you in a crowd.Maybe you've gained yourself a young ward; someone who is new to the crime family? They are too young, frankly, and they have a good heart, a smart mind, and are generally good, but have been forced to be "bad." You desire to protect them; to show them the ropes and keep things tame for them to maintain their innocence and good heart. Then, the worst thing in the world has happened, they've been forced to do something so vile, so reprehensible that their lives will change for the can't let that happen.Or, you're just tired, and weary. Suddenly, you are finding your heart and/or your empathy for others after a life of crime or worse; now you're working to wipe the red from your ledger.The twist? The criminal must become the hero and visa versa:1. It's a bank robbery and suddenly, things are getting heated, people are in dire need of saving.2. It's a hit and you are a witness; you feel the need to step in and stop it from going down.3. Dealer's choice.B. You have a skill; it is pretty amazing, to be honest here. Only you are the best and the person that needs your skills...well, they've hijacked your life and they are working to set you up for the fall. They've taken something dear to you or they have them under surveillance; it's better for your compliance and control. You have no choice here, you must do this and do it now.1. You must do it alone, but, something goes wrong and you wind up with a sudden sidekick/s. They can help you in various ways and no matter how many times you try to give them an out; they don't comply. In the end, though, they can help you solve this puzzle better than if you did it all by yourself.2. You must commit a murder; a hit, technically, but you aren't a hitman. You? You're an average joe who gets wrapped up in some conspiracy by some criminal organization. Maybe you're a junkie? A gambler? A random stranger?You could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time or you're being forced to do it to settle a debt. Right now, you have to adapt, even though you have no skills for this; well, save those you've seen in the movies or on television shows you watch.Just know, this is happening no matter what and action is wholly required. These acts you've seen on film may be stupid, fake, or fantastical but, somehow, they work for you. You may just be able to save the day; as well as the person and become an actual hero.3. Dealer's choice.C. You're from two different worlds, and suddenly, your worlds and lives have collided. You're meeting under duress!It's during the commission of said "crime" and, yet, said crime could seem to be one thing in your eyes; yet the whole picture is more complex than meets the eye. You both have your motivations, your goals, and your reasons, but just because they can seem logical to you; they come off poorly to the other person. Maybe you are both investigators, or cops, or heroes, or you can mix and match.1. It's a mutant or meta/intergalactic bad guy/ crisis on infinite earth's/ a major crime organization/ a missing person/major conspiracy that you've found crosses into both of your lives. You could work the case can team up and work the case together!Herein lies the finest of lines between life or death, good and evil, solved or cold case. Just realize, what you need to do; it will be seen as terrible in the eyes of the public, but you need to do what you need to do. Consequences be damned!2. You've heard, for most of your life, from others about "angels," "demons," "gods." or "monsters," but, they've been nothing but that: stories, fables, or even superstition.Suddenly, though, you have been thrown into a situation that slams the conventional into the mystical. One of you has become the vessel for nothing short of the fantastical; next thing you know, you are killing, maiming, causing chaos and the bodies are piling up.You are suddenly on the cops' shortlist. You are on every list; including every official organization and every single news channel too. You cannot control what's happening in all areas; your body is not your own. You've become a shell for a chaos machine; that's when you also find out you're being hunted, as well as, being the hunter.Now, you can be a simple beat cop or a detective; even a private eye. Hell, you could be a full-blown monster hunter that no one knows about but your ilk. This case? Well, it's nothing you've seen before and you're not sure you can even stop it, yet, you must try; at all costs.3. Dealer's choice. 

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:13 PM 

20 QUESTIONS With Karen Page

20 QUESTIONS.1) Do you have/want any nicknames?"None that I allegedly know of, but I could admittedly take a wild guess for most people: An acute pain in the ass."2) How old are you? When's your birthday?"Why, a lady never tells!"3) Tell us about your crush/significant other?"My crush? Well, he's dreamy in a wounded duck kind of way. Brutal and fearless; he'll make sure to aggressively protect the afflicted ones that he holds most dear. No matter if they can take care of themselves or not. This would include the entirety of Hell's Kitchen and New York City; as a whole. I would certainly say that he has an affinity for the colors of red and black; funnily enough--that's how he inevitably comes to work on most days. There is a serious can-do spirit within him, as well as a devil may care attitude; yet God is always on his rebellious side. He would be considered a "good Catholic boy," who always goes to church and always atones for his sins. 4) What's your favorite color?"Turquoise blue/any shade of blue because it reminds me of the ocean, as well as the sky where it meets the ocean on the horizon. It is often associated with depth and stability. It symbolizes trust, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, intelligence, faith, truth, and, for most, heaven." 5) Where do you feel happiest?"I am overwhelmingly the happiest when I have my mind set on an impossible story, where I know damned well that I can get justice. Where I can assess said tragic story from every acute angle and use it as a fearsome weapon. So, I know I feel happiest at the dingy offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page because there I can do what I love, as well as be with the people I care for most in the entire world."6) If you had three wishes what would you wish for?"My wishes: That Wilson Fisk would never get out of prison, that I could find true love and lastly, that I can possess every tool I need and be able to utilize said tools in the best possible way so that I may be able to then weaponize said tools to be able to inevitably bring justice and peace to the people in this world that are the most powerless."7) Describe your dream house."My dream home, it would have to be by the sea...the sweet scent of an ocean breeze waking me from my slumber each morning. A place where I could walk along the surf and feel the wet sand squish between my toes. A warm and sunny haven where each day I could rest on a beautiful, white porch swing and feel the kiss of the sun washing over my pale flesh."8) Do you have any talents?"Let's see; I am certainly a pretty good shot with my hand cannon. I am dogged in my pursuit of the truth and justice, and I am also a very talented investigator who can certainly take care of herself."9) What's something you're passionate about?"Criminal justice, well, justice in all of its forms. I want to help those that cannot help themselves."10) What's your worst fear?"Tragically losing the family I've finally gained for myself; in a city where it's hard to make any real connections. Every day is filled with fear because of how far our enemies will go, and how far our answer will be in return."11) Do you want/have any tattoos or piercings?"Just my ears are pierced. I am not sure about tattoos, but I am certainly not adverse to them either."12) Describe your aesthetics."For certain, I am both cunning and optimistic; there is also a definite mischevious side to me when it comes to my friends, but I would also have to state that I am unshakably loyal toward any person I regard as either friend or family.  I will truly love them, even to a fault. If you can get on my good side; I will do anything I can for you. Even if it will put my own life in serious peril."13) What is your dream job regardless of pay?"I already possess my dream job. I guess you could consider me a private investigator."14) A bad habit you have?"I inevitably tend to drink excessively, especially when I am scared or worried about anything or anyone."15) Do you want any pets?"No, my apartment building doesn't allow pets and with my work, I don't have the time to devote to a furry friend. Though, I do donate money each month to a local animal shelter near my work."16) Something you love about yourself?"That I will always see that there is a path to get to the truth. It may be crooked or dangerous, but it is there; if you know where to step or where to root. And though it may not hold up in court; the law isn't always the best course of action when it comes to getting justice. Sometimes, the only way to get justice is with your fists, your mouth, and your skills."17) Something you dislike about yourself?"I would admittedly have to say my terrible anxiety and my personal insecurity with the cruel world around me. I've been through so much, but I always tried to be optimistic. Those days are long gone."18) What was the worst time you have been hurt?"Due to the sensitive nature of said tragic incidents, I feel it is the best if I plead the 5th here. Well, unless you count the time that Matt was presumed dead and let, Foggy and I live in that terrible world for a long few months."19) Is there something simple you can't do?"I, for the life of me, cannot make a decent cup of joe."20) What is something you're proud of?"Even though it almost killed me, twice, I am most proud of how Union Allied went down in burning flames due to the work I did along with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Also, putting Wilson Fisk in prison once and for all... that is until he was able to finagle his way back out of it. No worries though, he was finally put back away." 

ℛ𝛼♭♭ⅈ𝑡 ⅈກ ىກ₀ຜ

01/16/2022 11:12 PM 


CLINT; AVENGERS INTERVIEWThis was certainly a big day for Karen and the Bulletin. She had inexplicably found her normally relentless work in a complete lull recently after having reluctantly helped Frank uncover some sensitive information he required on a man named Micro. The hacker guy appeared to admittedly have some extremely critical dirt that overwhelmingly concerned Frank and his unit from when they were all stationed overseas and working with the C.I.A on some sort of mercenary mission.Frankly, it had been such an overwhelming relief to have merely seen Frank when she admittedly had, especially since Matt had left and forcibly disappeared. Okay, no, more like allegedly died and never came back home to both Foggy and herself. It was an overwhelmingly painful time for Karen but blessedly she suddenly had a grand distraction on her desk.This day was a very excellent day because she had finally managed to acquire a personal interview with someone within the Avengers. Ever since that tragic "incident' concerning aliens, as well as nuclear bombs; right in her own backyard, so to speak, and then with her landing the new job at the Bulletin; Karen had been daydreaming about getting in touch with them to finally get an inside scoop on how that day had actually panned out.Everyone knew that they had managed to save New York City from a massive alien invasion, sure...but no one knew how that day personally affected each one of them, as well as them as a new team. What they had accomplished were the most important, as well as, the most spectacular acts that anyone could have ever managed to accomplish. The reason she wished to interview someone from the avengers was to get to the grit inside the story and not to write just another puff piece that was spreading around on every news outlet like wildfire.Said news outlets were more interested in seriously blowing up just their heroic profiles, or twisting their personas into that of some mustache-twirling group of villains. Karen's personal goal was to merely get to the meat of their unusual story because she simply understood that they were all mere humans. Well, they were all mostly human. Knowing what inevitably had happened to Daredevil, she understood they were just real people, with real lives under those magnificent personas. It was evident there was a brutal story within these other stories, and Karen could sense it.So, Karen had to make sure she would come across as her most professional best that day. In a nice spring blouse, a pencil skirt, and her best blue coat; she waited outside of her building for the personal car that Pepper Potts had explained to her would be picking her up at exactly 6:45 pm. In her excitement, though, Karen made sure she was ready and waiting anxiously on her front porch by 6:30 pm just in case and because she was also really excited that this was all, suddenly, coming to fruition.As soon as the said car arrived, Karen, reflexively, made sure it was, indeed, the correct driver just for her own personal safety well before she deemed to step inside. Boringly enough, the car ride was pretty long, but the picturesque scenery was extremely beautiful, so that was a plus. Besides, it would all be worth it in the end because she was actually going to be meeting up with at least one of the Avengers. Though it was not at their actual headquarters because Pepper had arranged for them to meet at a local restaurant in the next town over; Pepper citing that their actual headquarters were both very private and it was also for security measures, which made a lot of sense to Karen.Now, Ms. Pott's never explicitly explained who would be meeting up with her that day. Karen only knew, at the very least, that it could be either Natasha Romanoff or Clint Barton. Excitedly, while she waited impatiently to see who would be walking through that door; Karen had arbitrarily decided that she should order something, like a light salad and, maybe, some water. Then she went about preparing for the actual interview. So, reaching into her massive purse, Karen pulled out her favorite pen and a work notepad. Next, she took out her phone and set up the recorder function, just to be sure it would all be ready when whoever had arrived.Now, secretly, after all the awful things that had happened with her tragic incident concerning Mr. Wesley, as well as Allied Union and Wilson Fisk, Karen had spent some serious coin on a few different spy cameras just to keep tabs on her whereabouts, who she was meeting up with and, most importantly, to keep herself safe. Karen knew she would do anything to get to the meat of a story, and thus she knew very well that she usually got herself into some very serious situations. So, on her person, there was one pin camera on her blouse, one on her purse, and another on the necklace she was wearing. It was a bit of an overload, sure, but with her extreme PTSD; and the unfortunate fact that she knew damned well that her type of investigating always wound up getting her in some very intense trouble, it was her safest and easiest option. Karen felt it was much better to be over-prepared when it came to her safety and if anything happened to her, the video feed was always being uploaded to her home computer for safekeeping. It gave her an acute sense of calm in the literal storm that her day-to-day life could be.Everything was set up for the interview, so, once her order came out, Karen decided to pull out the book she had been reading and began to eat while she waited for her interviewee to arrive.Clint:The sun started to set while the car was inching closer with each passing second, approaching the destination, but it wasn’t a mission for the battle-hardened assassin, Avenger, and SHIELD agent. This was something else, something easier, or so he was told. The light of the setting sun was especially bright today, casting its glow against the dark-colored car, reflecting a perfect paint job with a driver in the front while the agent sat in the back talking on the phone which could be seen through the window. “Pepper, you want to explain to me again why I’m doing this, and why couldn’t someone like Tony or Steve be tapped? Why did it have to be me?” He spoke with a hand forward, using it to convey emotions that the woman on the other end wouldn’t even be able to see, but that was his personality.“It’s really simple, Agent Barton, we put someone like Tony or Steve there and there would be mass hysteria for people to try and get photos of them.” Pepper on the other end bit her lip for a moment, it made it seem like Clint was a nobody, far from it. “Look, I’m not saying that in a mean way, you know how they’re sort of like the poster children of the team. Your accolades and accomplishments are still very well known, it’s just that, you don’t give off the same aura as they do and you’re not as recognizable. Steve and Tony are big figureheads, they’re celebrities---I’m really not doing you a service, am I?” Pepper sounded like she was regretting everything she was saying, but Clint stopped her thoughts, assuring her.“I get what you mean, you want someone that will be able to blend in easier, I get it that I have that ‘average Joe’ look and that’s fine.” Even he admitted that he didn’t have a lot going for him on the outside, it was on the inside, that’s what counted. He looked ordinary, but that was part of the whole ploy until you were either on your butt looking up at him or dead by his hands. If there ever was someone who coined the term ‘sleeper agent’ then Clint was one of them. If it was a contest of going toe to toe with Steve, Tony, or even Thor and they had no powers, Clint would be the kind of person that would kill them fifteen ways before they dropped to the floor.“Exactly right, Agent Barton, thank you for putting it in a way that doesn’t make you sound like you don’t matter. You do, everyone knows what you did, and how much you’ve sacrificed. The world owes you a debt as well.” In the background, voices could be heard, Pepper pressed her hand to the phone to speak for a few seconds. “I need to go, but please remember, tact, and try to avoid any questions that are way too probing.” With a huff and a sigh, Clint rolled his eyes, annoyed by the statement. “Yes mom, I’ll be good, tell papa Tony that he owes me for this. Pizza, and lots of it, and a day off from Fury so I can junk food myself to death while playing some new games that I just got. I need a lazy day.”The call ended, Clint stuffed the phone back in his pocket and looked out the window, the restaurant finally now in view. A small squeak of brakes from the car and it had eased to a soft stop, Clint patted the headrest of the driver’s seat and climbed out, sighing a deep breath and propelling himself forward with one foot at a time. Inside, easy and melancholy music played, lending to the ambiance while utensils clattered against fine plates while people talked at a dull murmur.There in the middle of the restaurant she was, the woman he was to meet, for however long it would last. Clint approached cautiously, looking down at the woman, studying her for a moment. Auburn hair, more on the blonde side than anything, her eyes obscured from his view while she read, but the red lipstick was bold and bright. “Miss Page?” he called out politely, “nice to meet you. I see you got started already.” As he was seated, a waiter brought the menu, but Clint held up a hand. “No need, I’ll have a large cup of coffee, along with Cajun chicken alfredo.”Karen:The dazzling sun had properly begun to set while Karen had waited for her interviewee to arrive. With her dainty nose stuck doggedly in her excellent book, Karen had not realized just how much proper time had typically passed while she waited eagerly. It was the sudden change of lighting in the room that made Karen realize the passage of time So, she turned so she may be looking out of the restaurant window for a few brief moments to watch as the sky turned into the sharp hues of bright orange, dark purple and bright blue as the sun began to completely set. All Karen could naturally do was marvel at its beauty for those few brief moments before her full attention was turned back to her book once more. Shakespeare absolutely did know his stuff, she could read his sonnets forever and ever.It was the distinctive sound of a masculine voice that roused her from her reverie. The comical look of sudden surprise on her lovely face was because she didn't even hear him approach the private table. It undoubtedly made her jump just the slightest bit and undoubtedly had her slam her classic book resolutely shut with a resounding thump. PTSD was no joke, the strangest things typically had her all jumpy and she should have known better than to fully let her guard down, but she undoubtedly had. Now, like a cat jumping out of a cardboard box to pounce on its prey, here stood this man. A man she felt just popped out of nowhere. Stealthy, hmm, keenly interesting...He should invariably wear a goddamn bell!Completely wide were her lovely, baby blue eyes as she stared pensively at him for some long, full moments; contemplating him mutely. And just as suddenly as time had felt like it had slowed to a crawl; it just as suddenly seemed to speed up once more in a near dizzying effect. Clearing her throat softly, she considered him, then her plate, and back to him once more with a bit of guilty look on her features at his comment. "I am terribly sorry. I naturally wanted to wait respectfully but I have been in back-to-back meetings all day long. I didn't imagine that the person I would be speaking with would sincerely like my stomach rumbling while I earnestly tried to interview them," she said thoughtfully with a self-deprecating laugh.Phew! That was a swift turnaround for her, she didn't want to seem like a skittish kitten around the man on their first meeting. It wouldn't be seemly. Thankfully, nevertheless, as she spoke candidly to him, she really carefully began looking him over; fully. He was very handsome, much more different in person than the published pictures she had traditionally seen of him from various published articles. It was a genuine surprise for her. It certainly got a warm, beaming smile out of her as she looked him over. Then, she suddenly cleared her throat realizing that she had been staring at him for that moment. Aiming to focus elsewhere, Karen went to put her bookmark back into her illustrated book which now laid in her lap for the time being. Then, as an afterthought, she decided to look away from him, almost sheepishly."At any rate, it was only a small salad. I figured that I would consume something simple and wait to order an actual meal once you got here," she said reassuringly in a jovial tone of pleasant voice. It was then that Karen thought she should be more business-like, though she did not desire the interview to be all dry and unfriendly. Therefore, she leaned over to graciously extend her dainty hand in an official greeting. "Let's traditionally make this official. I'm Karen Page it is a genuine pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Barton." Though she was trying to remain all business, the warmth of her smile did not melt away from her features.Notably, she did panic for a slight moment because she typically knew he was a spy. It was then that it suddenly dawned on her which began to make her wonder if he would notice that she had those spy cams on her or not? Not sure if it would set a proper tone for this whole situation.Clint seemed to be very relaxed in here and he already knew what he wanted, which was very admirable. Plus, it sounded delicious to her too. So, while waiting for her guest to finish his order; Karen turned to obtain the waiter's attention right before he was able to promptly leave the table. Karen indicated to them, "I'll be having what he's having as well, thank you," she said in a kind, honeyed tone. The waiter had been incredibly kind and attentive toward her as she sat there and waited for her guest to arrive.Next, with a genuine smile for the man before her, Karen turned back toward him and sat back in her chair aiming to get more comfortable. "How has your day been so far? I bet granting an exclusive interview is like, the last thing in the civilized world you'd genuinely want to do?" She instantly gave another self-deprecating laugh at that. 


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