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06/30/2020 09:13 PM 

Drabble Tuesday.

Flashback - 2019"I don't…. I don't get it." Arabella glanced up, lifting a hand to brush her long hair out of her face. Most of the hair had come free from the messy bun she had pulled up into when she had started tearing into the boxes. There were several of them and with each one that she opened her smile grew just a little. She was covered in silver glitter. There was a little string of twinkly lights draped around her neck like a scarf, and a small mountain of 4th of July themed decorations spread out around her. "We're celebrating!" she finally replied, wiping her glitter covered hands on her jeans, only succeeding in spreading more of it everywhere. "Oh no, that I got." came the slightly amused sounding reply from the redhead sitting across from her cross legged. "What I don't understand is why now? You are aware tomorrow is only March 25th, right?" The female picked up a stack of napkins and waved them in her bosses face, then gestured to the rest of the club. It looked like some kind of weird 4th of July monster threw up all over the place. And Arabella didn't seem to be slowing down.Arabella went back to untangling the lights, barely looking up when she replied "Yeah, the 25th comes the day after the 24th, which is today." The red-headed female huffed out a breath. "Such a smart ass. What I mean is...why are we celebrating the 4th of July...on March 25th?" Satisfied the lights were sufficiently untangled, Arabella climbed to her feet, then up onto a chair, starting to hang the lights. "You know I'm from Greece, right? Born and raised. Greeks generally celebrate their own holidays, not everyone else's. But, my mother was born and raised in Texas and she always told me that her favorite holiday was the 4th of July. We didn't have anything like that in Greece. We have something similar that we celebrate on March 25th. There's marches and parties and all kinds of fun things. But, my mother being my mother….she had to put her own twist on it and make it just like the 4th of July. It was one of her favorite days of the year. So, even though she's gone I still try and keep up the tradition." She finished hanging the lights and climbed down carefully, hands propped on her hips as she took a look around at the club.It looked great. She may have gone a little overboard but it didn't look tacky. Her mother would be proud. She swiped a hand over her forehead and blew out a breath, silently ticking off the things on her list that had to be done. It was so much work but well worth all of the effort. Several hours later found the club packed, practically wall to wall, the enthusiastic voices of everyone rising above the music. The people that frequented her club were well aware of her background and found it endlessly fascinating that she carried over some of the traditions of her home country. With her fingers wrapped around the slim crystal stem of her champagne glass she wandered through the crowd of people glad in tshirts, cut off jeans and bikini tops. Along wall was a large table piled high with what she called 'bbq food'. Music pumped from the speakers, people were dancing and mingling with each other. It was perfect and made her nostalgic for the times she had spent with her family back in Greece. Shaking her head a little to clear her thoughts she downed her champagne and reached for another glass. She was going to drink and dance and worry about other things later…. 


06/30/2020 09:05 PM 

connection. for blush response.

The soft sounds of a piano echoed across the buildings as Markus tapped the keys lazily, mostly in an attempt to distract his own thought process. Light trickles of snow danced around him and covered his jacket, though he made no attempt to brush them off. The sun was starting to set, which was obvious with the way it was steadily disappearing over the buildings. He supposed he enjoyed being out here by himself rather than in Jericho where it was too loud.Footsteps distracted him and he turned to see Kara standing in the doorway of the broken building. He wasn't surprised to see her, but he didn't expect her to come and find him so soon. A light smile appeared on his lips before he stopped playing the piano to approach her. This was usually how it went. They would talk for a while and sit there until they decided it was time to head back to Jericho. Maybe she just liked the silence too. Even more so the company.Markus moved towards the edge of the roof and knew she joined him where he stood. "If there wasn't a revolution going on, I feel like Detroit would be a beautiful and magical place."He knew what she meant, but wasn't sure if that's where he would go with it. "How was your life before, Kara? What did you do?" He knew she was an AX400 model, though that was just the extent he knew of her past. She didn't share much of herself when she first joined Jericho. He couldn't say much since he didn't share anything about himself either. None of the other 'leaders' of Jericho knew where he came from or what he used to do either."I was a housemaid for..." She trailed off, clearly uneasy with talking about it. Her voice quivered a little and Markus knew not to say anything in response to it. He turned to face her and noticed she did the same, though it was mostly out of habit than anything else.Mismatched hues carefully searched her face with interest. "I cared for a painter who lost the use of his legs. It was like I was in my own little bubble, basically unaware of the world around me." He could see her looking at him now, though she seemed distracted and a little upset.Without saying much else, Markus reached for her hand, not really understanding why he did so. Kara looked at their hands, clearly unsure of his actions too. That's when it happened. It was like an electrical shock that coursed through him, though he mostly had a sudden flash of memories that weren't his own. Even the ones of when they met before anything of this ever happened.They pulled their hands apart."You've seen everything I've seen... felt everything I've felt." Their eyes met and he could see the confusion in her face."And you've done the same." He answered softly.Neither of them spoke again, but one hand managed to slip to the other as they stared at the sunset that was now firmly below the buildings this time.


06/30/2020 08:27 PM 

Read BEFORE you add please.

How to Improve your Writing: 1.Read More and 2. Write More. 1. About the admin and character: I am over the age of eighteen, thus I write with those over the age of eighteen. Character is over the age of eighteen. Online only do I ever go by the pronouns of they/them as I write both male and female characters(It gets tiring trying to explain this to people as a majority of you are closed minded but unless I know you it's they/them. If I know you personally then it's the complete opposite.) Character goes by she/her unless in an AU where the character is male the it is he/him. I am Demisexual, character is Demisexual. Don't add me unless you're interested in actually roleplaying as this is just for those who try to start petty online drama with me. 2. Writing Prefrences: One liners for stream comments. Semi para for Greetings Multi para and Novella specifically for roleplay starters/replies I do not expect you to keep up with me, I do expect you to reply when you can. These are personal preferences and do not need to be obeyed and I normally keep up with those I write with and attempt to match the length. 3. Just treat me like an equal, don't treat me as less of an equal to you: Equality is something that the roleplay community on ani seems to really lack because there's so many edgy little punks on there and less empathetic and honest to god good people because the majority act like entitled brats who throw fits if they don't get their way. (while feeling the need to also look less intelligent than they are on certain issues and trying to get under others skin and be incesitive at the same time.) Here on roleplayer it feels like a different issue, some people just don't read or understand when others are busy outside of rp and feel the need to tell me that they are no longer interested and remove me when I happen to state that I do have a life outside of roleplay. (Please stop doing this because I personally find it incensitive and rude when you lack understanding of your fellow writers.) Tumblr and Twitter are a bit different but you have your fandoms full of drama and people telling you what you can and cannot do with your own damn page and if you do your own thing then they try to cancel you. (Have seen it happen on more than one occassion to people I am friends with who are amazing writers, just a s s h o l e s in reality.) 4. I don't reply to people asking me if I want to rp because that is literally why I am here- to rp with you: Seriously, stop asking me if I want to roleplay, that's why I am here and I put effort into even saying that. 5. I have a life outside of roleplay and so I am not always talkative: Patience is very much a virtue for me so please take your time. I enjoy a good chit chat, thus I use discord and facebook (I will only give my rp facebook to serious writing partners. 6. I am a multiship/Polyamourous roleplayer, thus this account is for that: Multishipping I consider Polyamourous roleplaying because it's multiple partners however they don't interact with one another unless they are cool with eachother. 7. I prefer to write 1x1 but my characters often coexist with one another: It's a fun little fact that I prefer my one on one roleplays while I usemy stream for roleplay with multiple people; I feel that it is a great way to interact with other characters/writers as we establish ideas. 8. I am a picky writer: I read what others go through on here and I do it myself to see which people aren't the ones I personally want around on to interact with. 9. Following rule number eight: I deny more than I add as I will only add people who I happen to know and only roleplay with those who happen to gain my trust. 10. My starters are between Multiple paragraph to novella in length: I put detail and NPC interactions into my stories so, if you cannot respond to it, that's not my problem- it's more of a you problem, I make sure to give a story to my friends and a good start; If you have never bothered sitting and watching Thrilling Intent which is full of story and character background stories, I really reccomend watching them soleley for the character backgrounds.


06/30/2020 05:30 PM 

The Deity and The Demon Hunter

  "This boy has angeled eyes, the devils grin, and tattered wings." "This girl is a hurricane, but sweet like honey too." (Jace & Roni) 

deity, chaos, void, pain, teenwolf, riverdale, supernatural, thevampirediaries,


06/30/2020 05:23 PM 

Locations within Fantasia

LOCATIONS This is a list of every known location/aplace of interest that exists within the realm of Fantasia. Disclaimers: Some of these ideas were drawn from Ever After High, some are mixed in from Descendants and the others are places I have created from my own mind. Fantasia UniversityThis is an elite university that was opened up by Headmaster Yen Sid, after the two realms were merged into one. Both inhabitants from the realm of Fairytale and the Multiverse attend school at this University. The students attend the academy for six years before they are able to graduate and move onto the next adventure that awaits them. Fantasy Black MarketA lowkey place, run by the Sorceress Amara, for all the magical and non magical inhabitants of Fantasia to visit for all of their magical needs. From low end items such as hexes, curses, spells, potions and charms to high in demand illegal items like controlled substances such as Magical Herbs, illegal weapons, banned books, vampire fangs, werewolf claws, fairfolk wings, unicorn horns, mermaid tales and everything in between. Anything one could possibly need, if it's magical, it can be obtained through the Black Market. House of Mouse ClubThis is a nightclub run by the Multiverse's Gangster Mickey Mouse and his gang, anyone from a hero to villain is welcomed with open arms. It's a place for a princess, or an evil queen to come, have some drinks, and dance the night away. Just so long as they are able to pick up their tab, because Mickey doesn't enjoy giving away his business for free however he does find joy in striking deals with his customers. When Mickey isn't running his nightclub, his deals in prehistoric magical antiquities.


06/30/2020 04:46 PM 


1. I only roleplay with those over the age of 21. 2. If you feel like you need to have an opinion, take it and shove it. because I don't care about anyone's opinion online.3. I do not tolerate entitled twats, so shove off. 4. I have a life, so writing is a hobby, not a job if it was my job then you'd have to pay me~ 5. If you take text on a screen literally you're funny. 6. I do and say things to test the waters and people social wise, why? Because I can and it helps me see who's really here to have fun and whose an uptight prude. 7. I multiship, don't like it don't add. 8. I don't do comments and I am a Multiple paragraph to Novella writer; But I am flexible. 9. I write with male characters only...Unless I personally know the person.  

Head Prat

06/30/2020 03:08 PM 

I can't do this [Starfire]

He used to love silence, fought for it in a world so full of noise. In silence came peace, a time to think and reflect on deeper meanings. Now it was echoing, a constant white noise that never ceased. It caused his mind to plummet into less and less light, an abyss beyond measure. It was like the sky above, stars that would otherwise be twinkling down at him shrouded by the clouds, a blanket of shadows cascading over the vast openness and leaving nothing but bleakness. It would never fade, a constant companion that pulled him down into despair.Drinking softened the grip against him, numbed him enough that the silence muffled itself, removed the horrors that kept him awake. The stronger the drink the better the memory was, false fragments of his life compiled together to form one good thing. It never lasted, the moment soberness touched his mind the path was clear for the darkness to surface, the white noise to drone in his mind.Laid back in the grass, Percy’s vision was blurred as his glasses laid discarded beside him. He stared up at the openness that resembled his future, that even when squinting he couldn’t see anything. Percy couldn’t see a future for himself, couldn’t picture himself growing old or having a family. Weeks turned into months of sobriety, false praise from his family at what he was doing, the right steps taken to healing. They didn’t see it, only saw what they wanted too. No one saw the sunken eyes, the smile that was broken into two. To them, the dark hollows around his eyes were the result of his drinking - not the sleepless nights consumed in the horrific silence or the nightmares that plagued him, left him paralyzed in bed; face wet with sweat and tears. His smile to them was progress, not looking long enough to see it fall once it was no longer expected of him. No one noticed how it never reached his eyes, that when speaking about things he was once so passionate about he no longer lit up. He felt outside of his own body looking in, dying as he watched a false sense of himself just making it day to day.Cold rain hit his face, small pelts that unphased him. He felt nothing. Even as the rain came harder, beat down on him Percy remained on the ground, waiting to wake up and feel like himself again. The fire to change smouldered into ash in a matter of days, soberness allowing the melancholy to come calling back to him.Would they miss him? Would they even know he was gone?He thought about leaving before, packing up his things and trying to make a fresh start somewhere outside of England - beyond Europe itself. In his mind it would fix everything, right the part of him that was askew. Those thoughts were different this time, an ominous touch to them. Moving wouldn’t fix anything, wouldn’t flip a switch inside him that had been off long before the war even hit. There was no escape, no way out that Percy could see, no desire to press on. Only despondency. It would be simple enough to do and it would put an end to the raging silence, finally stop the nightmares and give him rest. Without him, the Weasley’s would easily move on, no more need to pretend. It wouldn’t be like how it was with Fred, no days spent in silence, no tears shed daily in his memory. If only he could bring Fred back at the expense of himself, then his family would have what they wanted.The lakes lapping waters held a soothing melody, lured Percy in closer to the idea. His mind was aloof at what it would be like, if he would finally feel anything at all. Coldness seeped into his bones as the water's cool embrace collected him, pulled him out further. A simple binding spell was enough, Percy’s wand lost into the murky blackness below him as his body went rigid. Darkness enveloped him as the water closed in, filling him with deep dread. Pressure built along his chest, head swimming as he was dragged into the depths of the lake. He held his breath for as long as he could, an aching burn starting in his lungs. Red and black dots danced before him as a desperate hot wave overcame him. Percy’s heart began to beat rapidly in panic, an urgency for air overtaking him as his body began to fight the invisible bonds that sent him deeper. The red splotches were no more, nothing to be seen around him as Percy opened his mouth, a scream for air that only sent a rush of water to his lungs.Percy blinked, the image all too tangible. Freezing water rushed around his knees, no memory of moving. In a scramble, he ran through the fields back up to the Burrow, fighting the pull of what he envisioned, of what a part of him desired. The house came into view, Percy’s steps faltering. Thoughts accelerated in his mind, his breathing all wrong as Percy spun in a circle as if lost. He couldn’t go back, didn’t want to return to a place that was driving him into what he assumed was madness. The fake smiles, false cheery attitudes towards him were enough to drive him crazy. No one there would help him, would see that he was teetering dangerously on an edge.The crack was sharp and a sudden, a blinded rush the moment his feet touched back to the ground that sent him toppling over an uprooted stone. Fists hit the door, Percy choking out a cry for help, a plea for the door to open. It went on for what felt like minutes, rapid pounding until everything ached. He moved back in defeat, cramped hands over his face as the panic seeped into his core. He couldn’t rid the ideas from his mind and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense - appealed to him and it terrified him. Percy sunk to the ground, a violent tremor that rippled over his body.“Nox.” The soft whisper was barely noticeable, subtle movement in the shadows around the back of the house. “You’ve five bloody seconds to get out of here.”Percy noticed too late the wand that was drawn on him, his body hunched over in a heap.“I didn’t know where else to go.”“Percy?” Zoshia’s steps were light but with purpose, the gate to the garden slamming closed behind her. She was there in a heartbeat, her small frame knelt before him. A small ball of light appeared at the end of her wand, Zoshia’s face illuminated against the dark backdrop of the night. She spoke his name again, softer and filled with concern.Percy knew what she was thinking, what she must have assumed by his sudden appearance. They had been here before, countless times he drunkenly staggered to her house wanting only to see her face, to hear her voice. He didn’t want her to see him like this now. He wiped his hands against the fabric that stuck to his legs, a strangled cry he tried to fight back escaping as he tried to keep it together. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he said again, voice cracking under the pressure.“Talk to me, what’s happened?”All he could manage was a violent shake of his head as his entire body trembled in the distress. He held as much control over the ugly tears that wouldn’t stop as he did the words that wouldn’t form. How could he tell her? How would he explain something that even he didn’t fully comprehend in a way that she wouldn’t look at him differently, wouldn’t hate him? Percy wanted to scream until his vocal cords tore, until it all came to an end. Everything was falling apart around him, cornered him into a place so dark he never could imagine anyone being in it - trapped like he was. He no longer wanted to exist knowing that everyone around him who was supposed to care about him only pretended to do so out of obligation. It crushed him, ground him deeper into the ground as parts of himself fell away, breaking him until there was nothing left.Zoshia moved closer to him, every action of hers calculated and careful. She held no worry over the time of night it was, no concern for anything other than Percy. She saw him, could see through the layered masks he wore. Hesitantly she reached forward, fingers curling back and away from him. “Are you . . . Have you been, ya know?”Percy shook his head again, understanding what she was trying to ask him. “I haven’t drunk anything.” His words were thick, hard to get out as they stuck in his throat. Shame piled on him, starting off a new set of broken sobs that this would forever his life if he survived past this moment. He would never live it down, would never move past it or be seen as himself again. He would be the drunk; the failure. Percy ran his hands through his hair, pulling roughly at the roots. “What’s wrong with me Zosh?”“Nothing.” Hands gripped his face, a gentle tug to force him to look up at her and only her. Her touch was soft as she brushed the damp hair back from his face, a repeated motion meant to sooth and calm him. “Percy, look at me. Nothing is wrong with you.”He drew in a ragged breath, wanting to believe her words. “Yes there is, I can feel it and I don’t know how to fix it. I . . . I don’t want to be here. This part of me is growing stronger and it scares me. I just, Zosh I almost . . .” He couldn’t finish it, bring himself to utter the words of what he almost did. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to.”Fear rippled over her features, Zoshia’s face paling as the meaning to his words took root within her. She was scared, disturbed by what he insinuated and it showed in her brown eyes that began to glass over. Her mouth opened and shut, words lost to her. They stared for a moment, the weight of his hell lingering between them. Carefully, her hands slid around him, eyes never leaving Percy’s as she studied his every reaction until she held him against her, fingers digging into his shoulder blades.Zoshia didn’t say a word, no lecture about how ridiculous he sounded, that there were people out there with real problems, people who were truly suffering. Nothing mentioned about how selfish he was behaving, that he was cruel to have thoughts like that when his family was still suffering. Everything Percy had already said to himself, berated himself for never left her. Zoshia simply held him in place in a vice grip and Percy finally lowered his head against her. Time ticked by, the mania that had all but destroyed him dispersed, a small calm in the storm within.“Let’s get you inside,” Zoshia mumbled as she pulled herself up, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her hand extended out and Percy caught the slight snuffle from her, saw the blotchy redness in her eyes as she helped him up.“Don’t do that, please don’t get upset.” He felt the break again, hating himself more than he ever believed he could. He swore never to be the reasons she cried again, that he’d never again cause her hurt. “I’m sorry, I should be stronger than this, I shouldn’t be dragging you into my - ”A single finger pressed against his lips, Zoshia’s face pulled tight. “I still have some of your old things here. Let’s get you something dry to wear while I make a nice strong cuppa, yeah?”He wanted to vomit, to collapse in on himself and go back to better times. He felt the tightness of the hold on his hand, Zoshia’s own grip like a lifeline to him as they walked into the house. 

Devious Bloodmage

06/30/2020 12:46 PM 

Sweetest Perfection of Home NSFW
Current mood:  accomplished

Sweetest Perfection of Home It was a surprise to see how her home would have been: a quaint little cottage off to the middle of nowhere. It was nothing to how Tempest would have pictured it. For some reason, he did not expect the cottage to have appeared so… rustic…for a daughter of the High Archon with the expensive taste of Orlesian’s fashion sense. Then again, that could have just been the numerous speeches he had from other people – reprimanding him from every time someone had seen Tempest stare at Leliana for a little too long, or that he has followed her around a little too closely. Even when he and Leliana had tried to keep their affairs private, there was always a sense that other people knew—and they knew that he was the lowest scum of the earth. Queen Leliana – No. --- Empress Leliana could so much better than him. Everyone knew it.The forest was thick with trees and the sounds of a bubbling stream had been nearby somewhere. It was quiet here. There was no one to bother the Queen of Kirkwall with mundane complaints or some noble seeking a potential peace treaty in the hopes that the Icon’s army wouldn’t trample over his-or-her lands. The inner peace sunk deep into the soul and reached into the ground so firmly that Tempest almost started to believe that he was growing roots as well. He wondered just how long had Leliana had such a place to escape to – and how often did she flee to it…Before the sun would claim him and burn his skin past the shade of the heavy pine trees, Tempest moved forward and stepped up to the porch. He took a quick notice of the hardwood that was packed together with mortar and nails. It appeared to have been carved by hand and it was noted as much because of how some of the logs were split uneven and a few were loose from not being secured flush against the support beams underneath. Repairs needed to have been made here but they were minor. Surely, Tempest had seen worse craftsmanship in his day: shacks that were put together with clay and driftwood, even. However, this was by far not bad at all. The support beams were about as evenly placed as possible to the judgement of the naked eye, and it was only a few weak spots that needed tending to.Tempest had started to think about that and of what steps that were usually taken in order for that to be been fixed, whenever the front door had opened. Leliana stood in the doorway to greet him. He noticed right from the start that Leliana was dressed in a different style of clothing. Gone, had went the royal outfits that her advisors and handmaidens donned her with. The ‘Leliana’ that he was use to seeing began to show her true self through her own more comfortable attire and he smiled to see her reflection shine through her personality. She was always bright and charismatic – it was hard to believe that this had been the same woman who lost herself in a fit of grief at one point and tried to take her own life. Tempest didn’t understand it then, just as much as he didn’t understand it now; but none of it mattered just so long as she could still keep that bright and beautiful smile.“Well? Don’t just stand there. Come in! Come in!” Leliana cheered and reached out to guide Tempest inside by the metal hook of his hand.Now, Tempest had no real excuse to have just disappeared. He was dragged inside and he looked at the walls of the cottage that were built around them. The feeling was suddenly confining to him, but only because in the back of his mind there had lurked the certainty of him staying here – in this place, with Leliana. Yes. They talked about it in between the time that Thalia had been born and since her suffering from post traumatic stress which caused an end result of Tempest having to make her his Thrall. Then, they talked about it again some time afterwards – after her anger of his actions had calmed down. He only did it to save her but –no. Actually, that was incorrect. Tempest made her his Thrall because he was being just as selfish as she was, and the bloodmage refused her to give her life up to the Maker – or Limbo – or whatever/whoever religious entity that would claim her soul. She was his and he made it so.However… There was a difference in between making the declaration – and even taking the first few steps – than to follow through with commitment to the previous actions…“Well?” She finally asked him when the silence had continued to settle between them. “What do you think?”Tempest wasn’t certain of his own opinion past the encroaching claustrophobic feeling that churned inside of him. He felt guilty for even feeling this way, but it was hardly something that he could brush off. His jaw remained a bit slacked when he looked towards the silk Orlesian curtains that decorated the windows, the space of the livingroom that opened up and outward to the stone campfire that was used for a makeshift stove as well as a heating unit for the cottage itself, and the fire place that remained almost as a centerpiece to connect both rooms. To him, it felt smaller than it actually was but this could have been just because he was realizing just how very serious that Leliana was about him moving in with her. Here.“You like it!” Leliana beamed at his continued silence while he slowly looked around the cottage. Then as quickly as her proud smile and shown, it suddenly dropped with a strong frown. “—You don’t like it. Tempest--?”“This… You built all of this yourself?” He questioned her and looked towards one of the counters in the kitchen.On the wooden surface of the counter, there was a small photo frame that had a painted picture of Leliana happy with Anders and her son Baelfire, from when he was an infant. It was supposed to have been a family portrait of sorts, but it was smaller than most grand paintings that Tempest would have normally expected in a home. Still, he found himself gravitating towards the picture and his right hand stretched outward to reach for it. Meanwhile, Leliana still watched him with bright eyes full of hope but her frown had shown worry even still. There was not much she could do or decide upon until he had given his opinion to her little hide-away-from-home, anyway.“Uh—yeah. Well, yes and no.” She explained with watchful eyes to follow him. “I found this place abandoned and tried to fix it up a little. Of course, it could still use some work—”Picking up the smaller picture frame, Tempest had turned slightly and looked down at the family. A loving mother, an honest husband and an innocent child. It was the sort of family bond that Tempest never had – in any sense – in his own childhood; and the sight was foreign to him. Curiosity and envy centered in his gaze then and he drew quiet again.“And tomorrow? You are going to start living here.” Leliana proclaimed with pride and marched towards him.The statement caused Tempest to even jolt a little and his eyes snapped back at her in surprise. It was as if he had been hearing of this declaration for the first time; as if they had never had those long talks and agreements about him possibly moving in with her from the beginning to before even coming to this place.“What?” He questioned and his grip on the picture frame loosened when Leliana tugged it out of his hands.She turned momentarily to place the picture frame face down on the counter and moved back to standing before him. “So long as you like it… You do like it here, don’t you?”“I…” Tempest frowned as his eyes looked back towards the picture frame – knowing why she had turned it face down, but the ‘cause’ had not produced her desired effect because Tempest had still the image imprinting his memory. So, he looked down in defeat. “…I mean…. What are we doing here, lass? What about Anders?”Leliana looked at him confused then and in a wonder from where this uncertainty had suddenly been coming. “—Anders? The Cabinet are convinced that I betrayed him; I can’t go back—”“So, you still have feelings for him.” Tempest concluded and his blue eyes stared her down for the moment.It was a reaction that still had caught Leliana a bit off guard. This spoken unnerving was the first hint that Tempest might have ever been bothered by her relationship with Anders. He had never left any hints of jealousy before but this had just seemed easier for such a blame. But there were so many other reasons to why Tempest’s second doubts were returning, and her being the Icon’s supposed ‘wife’ was hardly the normal excuse that he would have used. For now, it was just the easiest, and Tempest’s eyes had dropped slightly more to the floor.“I don’t care about what he – or anyone else – thinks. You know that.” He said, while feeling his right hand slowly turn into a fist.“But let’s stop fooling ourselves for a moment, lass…. I never was comfortable in making promises I couldn’t keep – and even if I somehow had become one of the strongest Magisters in all of Tevinter, I still can’t give you all things you deserve. By the Blight’s Blood, I desperately wish that I could…! But I’m a pirate, lass…and a smuggler of unsavory trade, and a bloodmage-abomination. I am possessed and a terror. Everywhere I go, I am walking target to somebody for one reason or another--and that will only be more trouble to you.”“Everyone in Kirkwall all want my head already. I don’t think Anders can protect me forever from that.” Leliana blinked for a moment, staring at him and then forced somewhat of a smile. “—So, you see, I’m no stranger to danger—”“Don’t you get it--?” He demanded as his left arm flew practically off from his control and landed straight down into the picture frame. Tempest was stuck there; surprising her –scaring her a little and the action cursed his future quickly. “I mean, look at me! I am a threat even to you!”Even in that moment –to some degree—he had tried to hint at what truth about himself had been. After all—it was obvious. Tempest was a one-handed abomination that had a tendency to become unpredictable and ultimately a doomed and dangerous individual – no one that she should have ever been close to. It wasn’t just enough that he did not have his left hand to even wear the symbol of matrimony with her, but was also enlightened from knowing his destiny. He didn’t have the heart to tell her of the visions he had known of himself. He could not tell her that he was rot away right in front of her very eyes; and Tempest had only been more convinced of that than anything else. Vince was still a problem for him – and the demon could also still turn against Leliana and attack her even before he became the walking corpse he had seen of himself in visions. She at least was aware of Vince—always had been—and the demon was an easier thing to place blame on than his true worry. But he had done more than simply presented to Leliana a harsh reality to swallow, because this action was a clear sign to have pushed her away.“You’re not happy—” Leliana had guessed as much out loud and her eyes started to fill with tears. “—You don’t like it here.”Tempest winced at his own flaw and saw what pain that he had caused. He frowned, pinched the bridge of his nose at first and then attempted to reach her. “F***… I didn’t say that, lass.”“I just thought that…” Leliana started to turn away and started to leave behind some distance between them. “…I don’t know what I thought—It was stupid to think of this; I’m sorry—”“Damn it--! Woman—!” Tempest cursed and jerked at his left arm that continued to hold him back, due to the hook-for-a-hand piercing into the wooden cabinet after his outburst. His frantic stretch towards her gave his efforts hope, and he managed to grasp her arm. Quickly, the cursed bloodmage tugged her back against himself. His expression remained stern from the frustration of how he had been stuck there, to his struggle in order to have kept the woman from running from him. He heard her gasp as he snaked his right arm around her waist to prepare in case she might have tried to struggle against him still.“Tempest--?” She questioned in a slightly frozen state; but she could feel how warm his body was against her and that heat radiated off from him like a beacon to hone in on her and pierce its way through.“…just stop talking…” Tempest muttered and stared down from over her shoulder towards the quick rising and fall of her chest.After a moment, he turned her and braced her against the cabinet. She squeaked a little and sniffled in between her tears then – tears that she quickly had reached up to rub away; had he not stopped her for the moment. As if studying them for the first time as well, Tempest had collected those few tears on the fingers of his right hand and then curved his palm more against her cheek. Their eyes had met and as intimidating as Tempest might have appeared in that moment to her, he still had only seemed to relax a little with more tenderness than moments before this. The ‘monster’ was ‘meek’ and gentle. Their eyes soon had both fluttered to a close to some understanding as Tempest kissed her, and when their lips had met his actions remained slow and sensual.Leliana felt a sob bubble up from her throat and she started to slightly push him away. Muttering his name again, she attempted to seek explanations. “Mm-m-Tempest—”“I said stop talking.” He warned between baited breath, reached to hold her close while his waist pressed more against the cabinet behind her. He grinded against her slightly and trailed his mouth down along her neck. The marking that he left on her skin between lightly nibbling and kissing should have been enough to remind her of his ownership of her but also his apology for making her cry.“Tempest, if you don’t like it here, just—ah!” Leliana gasped and her head was tugged slightly back by Tempest pulling her hair.She could hear his muffled growl of annoyance—and even feel the punishment of his bite into her neck, which proved to have been a lot more firm and forceful than the previous nips of his teeth. It wasn’t really that much of a punishment though—because it felt good – and because there was reassurance in having Tempest this close to her. He was rarely ever one to be difficult to with words. Tempest was usually suave and calm-collected in expressing himself. So when it proved that this time, his actions spoke far louder than his ability to speak, Leliana knew then that something was wrong. She just didn’t know how to confront him of it and eventually when times such as these occurred, she would get swept up in his passion and lust that continued overwhelm her in the constant turmoil of a ‘storm’ that was essentially Him.They made love on the against the kitchen counter—as well as upon it—several times. It was not only because of the spur of the moment spiraling out of control for the both of them; but also because Tempest was a bit embarrassed to truly admit that his hooked hand was stuck in the cracked wood of the cabinet’s surface. After the day’s hours melted away into the night sky, Leliana remained naked underneath Tempest—who had eventually lost his pants to the floor and climbed onto the kitchen cabinet with her. Still stuck he remained embedded deep within her, tugged at his left arm and kept his right hand propped up for balance. Leliana moaned against him from each movement then but her eyes eventually opened up to look up at him.“Are you…” She started to speak between the pleasure she was given. “…intending to keep this up all night too?”“Depends… Maybe…” He grinned down at her in between each powerful dip into the wet warmth that awaited him. “I figured…if I jostle my left arm enough,…my hook would be free….Might have to…be a bit faster.”“What?” Leliana blinked but soon her eyes closed and her head tilted back as Tempest continued. Her mind could barely register what he meant. He was ravishing her like a demon hungry over his continued feast of desire and again her thoughts could hardly even think of a response. “That’s… not…”After a short while of pounding into her and pulling at his arm to get free, Tempest could feel the wedge around his trapped hook becoming loose while in contrast, Leliana’s thighs around his waist were inescapable. Her moans were getting louder and shameless to fill the cottage—because there was no worry of being discovered here. No guilt to be accused with or judged. Here had been a sense of safety and freedom – where no one and nothing else had mattered but the two of them.“Almost, lass…” His breath was a raspy chuckle, drowned in a pleasured groan until finally the hook had been plucked away.Leliana’s ecstasy had coursed down her spine and she pulled up at Tempest simultaneously to jerk him down on top of here – where he remained like a cover and a promise that he would not bolt away from her. Tempest responded as naturally as anyone would when carried in the joined climatic moment. He kissed her with passion and had no ability to stall his own pleasure from her anymore. Moaning soft and low with the shown approval, his release flowed through her and fill until she had been stuffed full of that remaining piece he intentionally left behind. From there, the two rested and cuddled because both partner had been too exhausted to move.“You’re not going to leave me.” Leliana made the statement as a matter of fact, while she twirled her fingers into the bloodmage’s hair.Tempest was soothed from the gentle petting and he sighed against her collarbone from his hunched position—like an imp incubus that momentarily had his satisfaction. “Well... its certainly difficult to move about at the moment…”The silence settled between them bliss until at last, Leliana spoke in trying again. “…Move in with me.”Tempest’s eyes blinked open and his relaxed state had practically tensed above her again. It was clear she would not let this topic go – a stubborn woman. Too stubborn! Slowly, he turned his head to look up at her then as he tried to think of an appropriate response to give.“We’ll bring Thalia here and you can move in with me.” Leliana restated as though the decision had been made and it was made final.“You would leave your son behind?” Tempest questioned her with a dismay shown for her. He shook his head then to the suggestion, because he knew that such a choice would have been difficult for her. She was not like any Tevinter Mothers he knew, after all.“Baelfire is Anders’ pride and joy –as much as he is mine—which is why I can’t take him from Anders too. That would crush him.” Leliana spoke with a forced display of confidence; even when it faltered slightly. She reached up and caressed Tempest’s cheek then smiled up at him. “But Thalia is yours and mine. We know it, and Anders knows it. I can’t keep Baelfire from Anders just as I can’t keep Thalia from you. So, we’ll get Thalia and live here. Maybe when things calm down in Kirkwall, I’ll be able to see Baelfire again too.”Tempest grew silent from watching over her again. He studied that show of hope and tenacity in the woman that he fell in love with. He didn’t know how he could keep her when he was plagued with premonitions, but Tempest was certain to try and discover a way. After all, she was the only happiness he had found to cling to when the shadows grew too dark. His childhood had been a disaster and his life that followed it was a chaotic madness. It left Tempest desiring for a sense of peace in something – somehow. Everyone else had that chance to find levity at some point in their lives. Why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he be truly happy—even if it may be for a short while? Had he not deserved it by now?“Tempest?” Leliana blinked at him when she found that he was staring at her – no – staring actually through her for the moment. He was lost in his own head again, and she sensed it this time. Reaching to tighten her old around him again, her arms wrapped around his shoulders tugged him downward.“Hey!” The bloodmage suddenly laughed from quick disturbance of gravity pulling him downward. He reached for balance again and propped himself back up quickly to hover over her.“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer… You promise me that you’re not going to leave me, damn it.” Leliana demanded him as her expression had turned slightly more into a pout.Tempest smiled to her and gave a boastful wink. “I’ll do one better. I promise to do everything possible so that we will always be together.”This seemed to have pleased her and Leliana smiled brightly to guide Tempest back down into her arms more gently. Tempest welcomed the love and acceptance that Leliana had always given him unconditionally. Home. It was an odd thing to accept for one filled with as much wanderlust such as him…but for now…For now, he was home.


06/30/2020 12:11 PM 

Audition Form

AUDITION FORM Please please fill out the form below and send it in a message after you have properly read and signed the guidelines. Disclaimers: This audition form is subject to change as it best suits the owners needs and desires. Canon FormName:Playby:Age:School: Fantasia UniversityAlliance:Species:Place of Residence:Occupation:Roommate:Extra Curriculars:Info:Please include a three to four paragraph sample piece from the POV of the character you are auditioning for, unless we have promotions running then you may use any sample. AND, since today is the first official day of being OPEN, we are running a week long promotion. Any sample is welcomed. Keep in mind, any sample but it still is required to be at least three to four paragraphs long with five or more complete sentences in each paragraph.


06/30/2020 11:50 PM 


GUIDELINES Please read the information and sign with the appropriate information given within the rules. Disclaimers: FIRST OFF, WE DO NOT, OR WILL WE EVER, CLAIM TO HAVE OWNERSHIP OF ANY OF THE CHARACTERS BEING INTERPRETED HERE, (APART FROM THE ORIGINAL CREATIONS WHICH ARISE) OR BE IN ANYWAY AFFILIATED WITH THE PEOPLE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT, AND THEMES, AND NATURE OF THE DESCENDANTS FRANCHISE. DISNEY. OR ANY SUBSEQUENT OFFICIAL MATERIALS IN RELATION TO THEM. THIS IS A ROLE PLAY GROUP & ENTIRELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT & RECREATIONAL PURPOSES. WE ARE VERY OPEN TO, & WELCOME & INCLUDE EXTEMELY AU THEMES HERE, WE WISH TO PROMOTE CREATIVITY. Number OneWelcome. Please be sure to read these thoroughly because they must be upheld to the very letter, to ensure a pleasurable role play experience for all. There will be instructions on how to sign properly, so we know they have been fully read. Do NOT just scroll down, to see what others have put, as we will be changing the instructions at any given point, without notice. We will know if you've not read them. And your comment will be void. These rules MUST be read & signed properly, before we will even consider your audition. We apologise if this seems strict, but we only want what is best for the group, so need to be aware that you can, and will, stick to the requirements. Number TwoThis group shall be NC18+ but should still be treated with the greatest respect at all times by all members. There will be very mature themes involved, violence, sex, gore, substance abuse, to name some possible examples. We are looking to bring a little grit to this verse. Just because it is Disney based, & deals with fairy tales, & the younger generation, does not mean it NEEDS to be twee. There is a dark side to everything. Number ThreeIN character drama, is by all means encouraged. Keeps things lively & interesting. But in no circumstances do you involve people in, or bring OOC drama to this group. Start anything like that, you will be removed & blocked . We have zero tolerance when it comes to drama. It's toxic. And breeds a toxic environment. Any problems with fellow members, do not let it escalate out of control and try to suck everyone else into it. Try to resolve it quietly, like adults, or simply explain the problem to an admin in private, and we will take matters from there. Number FourWe value quality over quantity. Although, we will not accept one-liners and para-role play. This does not mean that we will be expecting you to write out a novella sized comment every time, if you are not capable of doing that. We do understand that sometimes shorter replies are preferred to move the role play along occasionally. But this is a multi-para to novella group. We ask that you do write in storybook format, and third person is preferred, though if certain members prefer to use first person, you are most welcome to work that out between yourselves. This of course excludes random silly banter between characters, or any status play - and in the in character channels on the Discord server. Nobody is perfect. We will all make mistakes whether they be grammatical errors or misspelled words. We simply ask for some effort to be put forth. With browsers now coming with built in spell check, this shouldn't be a problem. We are not going to be super strict about this as long as we are capable of deciphering what is being said. Number FiveWe understand that we all have our outside commitments, it's only natural. We have them too. We ask that you are on at least 2- 3 times a week. If you know that there is going to be some reason that you aren't going to be on, PLEASE tell us; so it is not assumed you have abandoned the character. We will be doing sporadic activity checks. Which will take varying forms, prompt drabbles, status plays, or even confessions -more about confessions can be found on the members only page. They may be once a month, a fortnight, or once a week. It will all depend on you. If we feel that some may be slacking then we will check in on all of you more often. We want to keep this group up and going for as long as we can and that won't be able to happen with members going M.I.A.-- On a similar note, we understand that people get bored of characters or simply don't have the time to play them any longer. Rather than just dropping your page, or deleting with no word leaving everyone high and dry, wondering where you've gone, let us know you are no longer interested. This way we can place your character on the availability list so that another can play them, instead of waiting around to see if you'll bother to show up again . Number SixYou may play more than one character if you truly wish, but no going above 2. We do not want activity to suffer because of people being over stretched. Also, your second character must be one who does not have cause to interact with your first much, as you would be posting to, & writing with, yourself. If you wish to do that- you might as well just write fan fiction. Second characters will not be allowed however, until you have been suitably active on your first. Number SevenWe are SURE there will be more. These are just the basics as we wanted to get them up & running as a guideline. We reserve the right to edit these as & when, and you shall be notified if & when changes do occur. But for now, that is it- so here comes the most important part of all...Enjoy yourselves! We are here to write, and to have fun - that's what it's all about! So sign up & join us. What are you waiting for? If you have read these rules, please sign below with a gif of the character you will be auditioning for.


06/30/2020 10:04 PM 

Nightmares. [drabble]

Now there's a ghost in the back of this roomAnd I don't like itI fall asleep with my covers pulled upAnd try to fight it Why don't you tell me about you life right now? How are things going?I mean, things are great. I have an amazing boyfriend who treats me better than anyone ever has; better than anyone ever should. -She couldn't help but laugh at her true statement; I have amazing friends; true friends, positive influences in my life and that's something I never had before either. Work has been good -her shoulders shrugged as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as her therapist wrote...whatever she was writing in her notebook;Okay.. now tell me the truth. I'm sorry?Alison, you're here for a reason and if you're just going to put on a happy face and pretend everything is fine, I can't help you.....Listen with all due respect, I'm not here to talk about my relationship. Or my friendships. Or my job. I'm here because I overdosed and almost died. -placing her notepad on the table which was placed between them, her therapist nodded; Alright. If things are so amazing in your life right now, why are you still using?-Completely offended by the question, Ali stood up, her hands slamming against the glass table as she did; Who are you to even ask me that?! You're supposed to help me! Come on, sit down, Ali. Let's ta--NO! F*** you. You think you're so much better than me. Sitting there with your notepad acting like you know me. You don't know me at all. I know you well enough to know, sympathizing to your situation doesn't work with you. You need tough love, you need someone to tell you that you're hurting those around you; the people you claim make you so happy. You're breaking them. -the woman's eyes remained on her pad of paper as Ali's hand rested on the doorknob; I know you well enough to know that you want to get better, but you're afraid to because this addiction is your way of coping. You're afraid everyone will turn their backs on you and instead of coping with that fear in a healthy way, you hide behind needles and this... 'I don't give a f***' persona just waiting for the next person to come along and break your heart.Ali's hand fell from the door knob, eyes focused on the ground as she listened to the therapist. Her body seemingly frozen in time. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak... all she could do was feel and she hated that. All she wanted to do was fight back, argue...but she couldn't. Everything the woman said was true. Glancing up from her notepad, the woman made a gesture to the chair in front of her.Have a seat, Alison. We have so much to discuss. As Ali slowly made her way to the chair, she was overcome with an almost sick feeling. Her eyes landed on a photograph which was strategically placed on the glass surface. Ali's knees went weak, her heart seemed to stop in her chest as she stared as the gruesome picture of her father's dead body. Ali's eyes fixated on the large gash on his neck, the blue tint to his lips as she felt a smirk grow upon her lips. 'No..' She thought, shaking her head as if she were trying to erase the image.Something on your mind? -The therapist questioned, as if she knew more than she was letting on; No, I'm fine. -Ali spoke, trying to act as though she hadn't even noticed the picture;Are you? Glancing at the table one more time, Ali's eyes fell on the needle, filled with the poison she couldn't seem to rid herself of. ...what ...what is this?Her question filled with fear as she looked at the woman who's face now had a wicked grin on it. Isn't that what you want?No! Leave me alone! -closing her eyes tightly, she pulled her hands to the sides of her head;With a loud gasp, her eyes opened; jerking her body upward from the bed she was nuzzled into with Zayn. Breathing heavily, she looked at the groggy male who she had clearly woke with her movements. "You good, babe?" He questioned as his hands rubbed his sleepy dark hues. Ali faked a smile with a nod, "Yeah.. I just need some water, go back to sleep." she spoke as her legs fell to the side of the bed, feet planting against the floor as she stood up, disappearing from the room. Her demons were becoming more real and she feared because of them, she would soon lose the one person she was most scared to lose. 


06/30/2020 10:03 PM 

I don't wanna die [drabble]

I fell in love with a very bad habit, but I feel alive for the very first time..I don't wanna die. Her body trembled, the crummy hotel room had become her dirty little secret in more ways than one. The blonde had promised not to use at Zayn's house so after moving in with him, she had to get creative with her addiction, doing everything in her power to not shove that needle in her vein. Zayn had been in the studio all day, so using the cover that she was going shopping with Mads, Ali rented a hotel room deciding she would use one last time before kicking the habit completely.. or so she hoped. As she injected the poison into her veins, she instantly felt regret wash over her body. Stupid girl.. it had been so long since she had last used, her body wasn't used to the amount of heroin currently coursing through her veins. Instant fatigue washed over her, feeling lightheaded and dizzy as she fell to her knees and the world suddenly went black. That was the last thing she remembered...the darkness. As her eyes opened, it was as if she was in another world. /What the f***../ was all she could think as her eyes landed on her parents, screaming at each other. /Why am I back here?/ Her hands moved to her head, gripping it as her eyes closed, as if that would make the vision of her past go away. /No...please no./ Her mind was doing all her talking, her lips were unable to form any sort of words as her mother gripped the butt of the knife, inching closer and closer to her father. Ali could remember this night like it had just happened, everything was so vivid and now she was forced to relive every painful second of it. "Stay away from me or I swear I will gut you like a fish." Her mother's voice rang out in her ears as her eyes clamped closed so tightly she could see colors. It was almost painful, but still.. nothing compared to the emotional pain she felt in that moment."Ali! No! Stop!" ....wait. She didn't remember this part. Her mother screaming /her/ name. No. It was the other way around.. right? Confusion filled her features as she felt a warm liquid on her face. Tunnel hearing took over, she could hear screams and the muffled sounds of her father choking on his own blood, but it was like it was miles away. Slowly, she opened one eye before disbelief took over and both eyes focused on her father's dead body...beneath her. No. This wasn't how it happened. Her mother was the one who stabbed him! Her mom did this! Not her! Feeling her body tremble as the knife fell from her hand, she pulled her hands up over her ears, pushing back her hair as she screamed, the blood of her own father brushing over her face as she closed her eyes again. "NO! I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" she screamed out, pushing her mother's hands away from her. "I didn't do it.." she whispered, slowly lifting herself up onto her feet, her legs feeling like jello as she backed away from the scene. "This isn't real!" she yelled before the world went black once more.Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound of a heart monitor rang out in her ears as she slowly opened her eyes. A hospital? But.. how? As her head turned, she saw her worried boyfriend, holding her hand. He hadn't even noticed she was awake. The disappointed, fearful look on his face killed her, broke her heart in ways she didn't even know it could break. How could she do this to him? He didn't deserve this.. that man deserved the whole world and she spit right in his face; knowing what he went through with his own father. How could she do this?! It took everything she had to let her fingers wrap around his hand; her entire body ached, everything hurt. As his eyes lifted to meet hers, she could see the tears in them; the broken-ness that she had caused. "I.." her words were soft, muffled as a tear slid down her own face, "I'm sorry.." Ali didn't know what else to say, what could she say? Words would never express how truly sorry she was. As his mouth dropped open to speak, Mads walked into the room, practically tripping over her own feet as she rushed to her best friend's bedside, her body falling on top of Ali's. "You're okay!" She spoke, letting out a sigh of relief, but Ali didn't feel okay. Nothing felt okay. Her eyes remained focused on Zayn who didn't say a word, just rose from his chair and slowly walked toward the door. "Zayn!" Ali called after him causing him to pause, but only for a moment to look back at her one last time before disappearing out the door. "He'll be okay, he was just worried, he'll come back." Mads reassuring words however fell on deaf ears, Ali was so used to everyone leaving that as the man she loved walked out the felt like forever. Now she was forced to live with what she had done to Zayn... and maybe even to her father. Thinking back to the dream...or whatever that was, Ali chewed on her bottom lip, eyes focused on the door Zayn had walked out of. Was it possible she had been the one holding that killed her father? Was her mom in prison right now as a way to protect...her? Nothing made sense anymore; the only thing that did was that she needed to get help for her addiction so she never had to see that pained look on Zayn's face ever again.


06/30/2020 08:25 PM 

Chapter 3: 'Bring It On'

'Bring It On' The morning came knocking at my wounds. Pain wanted me to drown to depression and my body wanted more sleep. The voice of my mother called faintly in my ear, ‘up, up for practice’. Not this time, mother. I’ll get up on my own. All this pain was because of my parents.      Part of me wished my grandfather was still alive. Everything changed when he passed away. My grandmother followed his lead shortly to the afterlife — love birds till the end. Mom, however, weathered slowly like a forever flower, she didn’t notice her petals dropping like bombs on me. She became stiff and dry with every day, starved without my grandfathers’ existence on earth.     And in all the pain that called for pain, she came. ‘Do you believe in fate?’, ‘... we will meet again.’ Her smile eclipsed the sun that rudely fell on my face. The thoughts in my mind bowed to her essence. I smiled through the pain in my left cheek and allowed her to rule my thought — a morphine injection to negativity. She summoned me, the real me.     It wasn’t a first. There were moments where I was almost certain we were thinking of each other at the same time. Electric thoughts that sparked in my chest and warmed my body. An odd dose of certainty. We will meet again. And just like that, I sat up with an unbreakable will.     If I could become among the best violinists at twelve, I could surely find my way to London. Start with the simple musical scale: the bow on the strings. Vibrato comes later.    My plan needed much more refinement to its primitive initial stage. A booked Airbnb and one-way ticket to London will not work anymore. Neither my skillful-decoy-bookings across Europe, that felt ingenious to me. With no money this time, the challenge is real, but not impossible. Only true artists could serenade with an untuned instrument.    I rescheduled the three months Airbnb in London using the hotel’s business center, requested the reception at the hotel to change my room for the last paid night (before saying goodbye to comfy, safe sleep), and headed to the complimentary breakfast.    Preparing for the apocalypse, I stuffed a few bread slices in my jacket, a bunch of butter, jam satchels, and an apple in my pocket. Anything that could last a few days. I did the same thing again the next day.    Using the laundry bag, I stacked the rations after adding the complimentary biscuits and condiments the new room offered. I hogged all the shampoo, creams, shaving kits and tissue papers then locked it all in the safe box.     I should’ve used that box for my passport and money; amateur mistakes that will not be repeated. Nothing will stop me from catching her wild smile. Aya’s smile. I decided to call McDonald’s girl ‘Aya’— beauty, an angel, a bird that flies. Many accurate meanings.     ‘The first steps to liberation was financial stability.’ My grandfather’s advice made sense at that moment. I needed to find a night job that paid cash which meant in the suburbs. Preferably close to a church so I could nap my mornings on its benches. Roaming alone the darkness of the night caused my bruised eye to sting. But, Tomasso’s blade lived in my pocket and my naivety armor remained stripped on the Navigli stony ground. I was ready to sprint like the wind, courageously.      McDonald’s didn’t pay in cash. I knew that but I had to hear it. Some owners didn’t even bother to respond to my application, they turned back into their crafts shop, clothing boutique, grocery store. The job I nailed was at an old man’s cafe shack. He sold snacks and pizza, too. I got lucky, no need to spend money on food.     It might have been my broken Italian, but old Marco asked no questions; maybe he saw the desperation in my eyes after twelve other places rejected my terms and asked for identification.    I started immediately. My shift was split in two: six to ten mornings, and evenings for twenty euro a day. Elon Musk survived on a dollar a day for a week, twenty euro was a fortune.        In a week, after my consistent presence at church was noticed, I checked in at the hostel. I needed a shower badly. It set me back twelve euro a night for a room shared with twelve loud travelers. Crowded was an understatement. But, I was on a mission and advancing. Nothing would stop me.   Things were running well, I expanded my wardrobe with two outfits. No comparison to the suit I already owned. I got a cheap smartphone, too; it froze almost periodically like a metronome when browsing.     Occasionally, I’d look up news about me. Oddly, nothing about my disappearance. Had my parents not noticed my absence? It bothered me that my grand gesture of freedom was ignored. I was used to having an audience.      Marco had an old acoustic guitar. I started playing it in the morning. Although it was not my instrument, it felt great to play again. To create. Customers poured into our cafe and I got a 5-euro raise. It was nice, this certainty, that hard consistent work would lead me to London. There I’d buy a van and drive up north. I’d find her. ‘We will meet again’.     “Stronzo!” a familiar voice disturbed. I cleared the outdoor table and turned to find none but the damsel in distress staring at me. I ignored her going back to my chores.     “It is you,” she said with fascination, I, however, was cursing the cruel humor of coincidence.    “I think you should leave,” I said, turning to meet her eyes again. “Sadly, we avoid serving criminals.”   “Don’t take it personally, stronzo," she said, "Welcome to Milano.” her mouth dripped with mutiny and smirked like a devil.    I didn’t like it. I didn’t like her but respected her victory. Regardless of the means she used, she outsmarted me with her gang. I admit the defeat. She must have earned a bruised arm that night with her oscar worthy performance.    Over the next two months, she came around with her Italian friends that bore copies of her rotten attitude. They called her ‘Valleh’ short for Valentina. She made it her hobby to smear her victory in my face. I served them like other customers wondering when their little joke will fade. I had no time for such distractions.  ***    “OUCH!” Valley shrieked in pain. I leaped like the hero I am to her side. She curled around her injured hand. I snatched it out of her grip. It was red, all red. Wrong kind of red. She smeared her ketchup-dipped finger on my confused face and laughed. “You are so easy.”   Her laugh rattled my anger lose. My grip on her arm tightened and squeezed surprise in her eyes.      “It’s not funny. Stop! stop all of it.” I urged.   She flicked the ketchup off my nose with her tongue. And just like that, my hand quivered in anger between us. Her eyes shock fear at my flaring nostrils and tense jaw. My core boiled with the need to break something. I couldn't break her arm, not the tables around, not the cutlery. I had to leave, now. I was a ticking bomb.    With no words, I tossed her arm and abandoned my shift.    I dashed down the streets aimlessly on my skateboard. The speed caressed my face and braided wind in my hair. Fresh air rushed to cool the lava bubbling in my gut. It was working, my storm was settling.     I jumped and skidded my board on the upcoming bench racing the flicking pedestrian green light. My board flipped beneath me as I jumped the curb. Out of nowhere, a green Volvo hatchback hit my mid-air legs and halted.    My landing was disturbed. luck was not on my side.    The impact threw me off balance and I landed on the hood of the car, head hammering the windshield before I rolled to the floor. I bounced to my feet, grabbed the man that left the car and sprinted to check on me. My fist clutched his shirt with a grip of steel.    “CAN'T YOU SEE?” I said hammering him to the hood that just plucked me off route. “OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES.”    He mumbled in Italian, his hands up in surrender by his face. Blinking with fear, he looked to my fist that strangled his shirt. I was soaking his shirt. The impact had slit my hand.     I noticed the blood gushing and suddenly the Screams of pain were audible. The fire in my core resurrected, like a suffocating fire fed a breath of oxygen. The flames blazed my anger with heat. It felt like my hand was not mine, like I was a visitor in my own skin. I didn't like the feeling. To gain the control of my arm again, I had to hammer the poor man against the car. My arm broke free and shook under my vision.      What was wrong with me? I grabbed my skateboard and darted to anywhere away from the Volvo that reeled in a crowd.      No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t outrun the heaps of thoughts that cascaded all at once. A burst of things that exploded under the tight tough front I held. I tried to find Aya’s smile in the storm of anger, but all I could find was all the bottled up events that ate at me slowly. The damn sh*tty pizza that I grew sick of, the money I had lost so stupidly, the aching arm that throbbed reminding me of the weeks it took for my eye to return to normal. The fact that there is no search party or any information about my escape. Will Aya know I was coming for her? Did she even follow my news? And Valentina! The annoying criminal with her nickname that rings with the stretched Italian accent her friends called her with ‘Valleh’– the manipulator that I serve daily. It’s her fault. Since the night I stained the banks of the Niglia with my blood, Milan thirsted for more.     I gripped the knife in my pocket wanting to slash something.     ‘Articulate!’ my grandmother’s voice rose from the stream of thoughts, ‘observe and articulate your emotions, a true gentleman never breaks in tantrums.’ Her explanations came with more cryptic wisdom: ‘There is no point in fighting a storm.’    Articulate?    Shards of thoughts spit like poison,    fingers clench like a snake.   A total blackout with no caution—   insanity attack that I can't shake.   It was difficult to fish out words. My mind was insisting on destruction, debris, and all kinds of pain. I threw the knife at the trunk of a tree hoping it would leak some of the anger. But it didn’t. It just hung there, reminding me of how I wanted to stab the roommates that kept changing weekly. The boys that came had no manners no matter what country they came from. I hated how economic I had to be with my money and my clothes. My jacket suit still had that cut from that exact knife. A constant reminder of my failure. How I wanted to gut these three a**holes that ruined my life.    I could feel tears wanting to break out. No. I won’t give in to the cruelty of Milan. Milan will not win.   My face turned fierce, deadly.  “WHERE. ARE. YOU,” I screamed at the top of my voice to the sky. It felt good.   “WHERE ARE YOOUU!” I wasn’t sure who I was calling for. My grandfather, grandmother? Could they see me from heaven? My parents, that didn’t even know I was missing? Aya? Was she listening? It wasn’t even night, yet. No stars could be seen, but I knew they were up there. I knew we were both standing beneath them.    “I am here, Stronzo,” Valleh’s voice intruded my rollercoaster dive to doom. I looked annoyed at her with my worn skateboard under my arm. How dare she steal this moment from me, as well.     She stood next to the tree and started pulling at the knife I threw earlier, it was deeply plunged in the tree—an Excalibur, my valuable Excalibur.   “Could you just leave me alone?” My furred eyes and clenched jaw spoke louder than my words. I had no more money. Did she already spend the ten thousand they snatched off of me?   She remained silent, wiggling the knife out. Irritated, I walked her way and snatched ‘my’ knife from her hand just when she set it free.   “That’s Tomasso’s,” she said in a rush after my quick grab.   “Not since I paid generously for it.” Anger was still dripping from my eyes.   “You are bleeding,” she said calmly, unthreatened or phased by the knife in my hand or my anger that admittedly scared me. As if she had practiced facing the devil.   “Isn’t drawing blood your secret talent.”    “Come, Stronzo.” No clever reply. She tugged my shirt ignoring my accusations. I pulled my sleeve free looking for a fight.      Her eyes calm as a morning mid-ocean under blue skies. She looked away from my fierce gaze to the knife with a slow-motion that was equally annoying as an eye roll.   “Don’t call me Stronzo, I am no idiot,” I pressed.   “No, you’re not, what is your name?” Her Italian accent audible through her calm tone.   I hesitated. Recalling my name reminded me of the serine composed violinist I was just three months ago.   “Sinan.” I said with a defused tone.     “Come, Sinan." She pulled me. I followed.      What else, Milan? Bring it on.

Head Prat

06/30/2020 08:25 PM 

Whose side are you on? [One Ear Wonder]

Dark days had descended at the fall of someone great and the rise of evil. There was no more denying Voldemort’s return, the smoldering ashes of hope doused in icy water. It was a reality now, an enormous dose of reality smacking even those that believed in the face. Percy had been there, stood beside the Ministry he blindly put his faith in and betrayed his family for and even as Voldemort looked at them, as the horror of disbelief set in, Fudge still tried to deny it. A hoax perpetrated by Potter and Dumbledore, a scheme to remove him from power. Acceptance was mingled with fear of what the future held, memories of the past severing as a reminder of the mistake they currently made. Percy couldn’t defend him, could no longer back the man that mentored him and when the time came, Percy sided with others in a drive to push Fudge out.He couldn’t ignore it anymore, no longer wanting to pretend that something horrible wasn’t coming at them. He had lost so much already to what was just beginning. The transition was supposed to be smooth, a quick shift of power from Fudge to Amelia Bones but dominos began to fall, plays of the dark lord’s power and strength in numbers showing in the death of their new leader. Shock waves were sent rippling through the wizarding community in her death, remained latched to them as Rufus Scrimgeour succeeded her before she even began. In the days that followed Percy wanted to return to the Burrow, to seek some feeling of safety from everything that was transpiring around him. Desire didn’t outweigh his responsibility to the Ministry, to trying to keep a sense of trust in the very facility that failed their people yet again. Tirelessly they worked, Percy at Scrimgeour’s side as he maintained his position as Junior Assistant, long days ending in a collapsed heap on his bed for a few short hours of sleep before it started again.Percy was always one who took his work home with him, three massive stacks of papers complied on the floor around him. His desk was already covered, the once pristine flat of his littered with work, an unorganized mess that set his nerves on fire, long scratches along the angry red hives that covered his arms. He lived for order, did some of his best work while under stress but this was more than just simple stress, it was a chaos that Percy couldn’t cope with. For hours he sat hunched over, carefully transcribing everything from Fudge’s work to what the new Minister of Magic needed, vital information that had been locked away to keep the fear down. The truth got out though, always did and everything Fudge had been doing, trying to hide away from the public eye was now out for all to see.The soft knock perked his attention from his work, shoulders tense as he waited. People were going missing, taken right out from under their own roofs and alone in a flat, Percy felt the pit sink into his stomach. It took a moment, for the exhausted laugh to escape him at the fear. Death Eaters wouldn’t knock. His mind was playing tricks on him, the lack of sleep messing with his mind. Percy leaned back with a heavy sigh as he ran his hand through his disheveled hair. He needed sleep, just to rest his eyes for a few minutes either that or he needed stronger tea.He eyed the paperwork, his body aching as he rose to his feet and for the kettle. He heard it again, the knock louder this time around and Percy’s brows furrowed as he stared at the door. Not many knew exactly where he lived; his parents, Scrimgeour, Zoshia and Felix. Five people, three of which no longer spoke to him. Wand hidden in the back pocket of his jeans, Percy opened the door enough just to see. Red hair and freckles greeted him and he took a step back in surprise.“George?” His confusion was evident, Percy opening the door fully in expecting to find the other half of the twins beside him, but George stood alone. His mind raced, a million different scenarios that played out before him. Fred and George went hand in hand, the one always with the other. Unless . . . “Where’s Fred? Is everything okay - oh Merlin, is it mum or dad?”George regarded him coldly, arms crossed. “Ah, so you do still remember us?”Percy scoffed, a rush of anger that had him pushing the door closed on the familiar face. George’s foot wedged between the door, all attempts to close it futile. In rough push, George stepped fully into the flat, Percy braced up against the wall from the shove of the door.“Just invite yourself in why don’t you. Make yourself right at home,” Percy spat sarcastically. He took a quick glance into the hall before he closed the door and locked it.“Not like you were going too,” George replied pointedly. “You making tea? I’d love a cup.”Not seeing a chance of getting George out from his flat, Percy made his annoyance known as he roughly slammed the cupboard as he retrieved a second cup. “What exactly is it that you want?” A single tea bag remained in the large box, a reminder of how work had taken over everything. He didn’t dare open the fridge, the barren shelves would be all that was there to greet him. There was no time for food shopping, no time to do anything that involved caring for himself. “You okay with black tea?”Percy caught the grumble from his brother but ultimate agreement to have the tea as Percy made it. “Dad said you haven’t responded to Bill and Fleur yet about the wedding.”Of course that was why he came. He put his focus on steeping George’s tea, pretending to make himself one as well. He didn’t want him to know, to think that Percy was struggling. “I heard you and Fred opened shop.”“Don’t change the subject, Perce.” He took the cup offered to him in thanks. “This is Bill’s wedding we’re talking about. You have to be there.”Percy took a sip of the hot water. He wanted to be there, kept the invitation neatly tucked away in his room in hope that the war would be over before it even started, that things could return to normal or some semblance of it. Until then things had to remain the way they were. Percy stuck with the Ministry to protect his family from becoming targets but now his loyalty did exactly what he was hoping to stop. He was a target with the secrets he held from Fudge, his connection to Scrimgeour. The allure of returning home now was shattered, Percy knowing exactly what would happen if he did. No one saw his family as a connection to him anymore and any attack on him would just be that, him and him alone. He had no one left, no friends or family to be used to hurt him, sway him to give death eaters what they wanted. His family wouldn’t understand or see that by still keeping his distance he was doing the only thing he could to protect them.“I’m rather busy with work at the moment.”“It’s practically a year away! I’m sure your precious work will give you a day off.” George waited a moment before he added quietly. “It’d mean the world to mum.”He knew what to say to get under Percy’s skin, even if Percy didn’t show it. The memory of slamming the door in Molly’s face, pushing her as far from him as he could was still fresh in his mind. He still heard her pleas for him to stop as he left the Burrow. “I can’t.”“Yes, you can. Just put that blasted ego aside and be there for your family for once in your life.”Percy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Send my apologies.”“Whose side are you on here?”The question threw him, a question that Percy wasn’t even certain he held the answer too. He wanted to believe he was on the right side, the noble side but he had been wrong. “Where’s Fred?” He turned the questions around, tired of being the one always to answer, bullied into things he didn’t want. “He didn’t want to come with you I take it, doesn’t want to see me?” Percy knew he was right by the solemn look on George’s face and he offered half a smile. “I feel like that will a common feeling if I showed up to the wedding.”“It’s nearly a year away, you have time to mend things.”Percy swallowed hard as he sat down on the cheap couch, finding the only route to take that would get George to listen, make him leave. “You don’t understand; you have no concept of what it’s like to have to constantly be perfect. You’re allowed to make mistakes and are forgiven easily for it. You’re allowed to be you. Bloody hell, you abandoned your education to open a joke shop and everyone cheered you on, supported you and Fred because it was your dream. What did I get? Berated from the moment I said I wanted to work in the Ministry. I know I made a mistake in leaving, don’t for one second think I don’t, but no matter what path I chose I would never have been good enough.”George stood awkwardly, no attempt to argue as he downed his tea with a grimace. “Just think about it, you have time so don’t just refuse immediately.”Percy followed him to the door, a heaviness in his heart that he already knew the answer wasn’t going to change. The future was bleak, an almost certainty of war on the horizon. “It was good seeing you.” Percy didn’t wait for his brother to respond, the door closing heavily as Percy leaned up against it in defeat.


06/30/2020 04:23 PM 

Rp Prompt, A kiss as a Warning Whiskey Lullaby

"A kiss as a warning."Now, Karen could perceive an addict from a mile away.  Like was enticed to like as if they were two magnets.  It didn’t have to be a sexual connection, but characters of the same ilk always seemed to drift toward one another in some scope.Said game was purported to be entertaining, but then this cocky a**hole joined who continued traveling around the circle by all the foreign girls and would fail at the game so that he could jab his tongue down whoever’s throat he was currently hitting on.   It made her skittish, and she acknowledged that she was consuming more alcohol. And as she peered over to Harleen?  She caught that his drinking had ramped up, as did his temper.  He was getting out of control and Karen noticed because his drinking was echoed in the amount of booze she too was consuming at that time.As the weird guy moved over to Karen and sat down to play the game, he, as per routine, let the card fall so he could shove his tongue down her throat.  Karen, however, twisted to Harleen and snagged him by the shirt.  Then she leaned in and kissed him intensely.  Putting on a show to make the creepy guy get either resentful or disturbed enough to move.  When he did move, making as big a scene as he could where he had to be yanked out of there by his allies....Karen turned toward Harleen and studied him right in the eye. Patting his breast, she smirked at him somberly and looked him in the eye.  “I was...hell, am, you.  I drink a lot.  Hell, I used to peddle narcotics and drink so much in my 20s that I was the reason that my younger brother is now departed.  It was justly my fault.  Don’t let this stuff cloud what is significant to you, and don’t let it harm the things you love.  You can’t take it back, and it changes you in ways you can never imagine,”  with that, she looked to her drink and sighed.  Fresh tears stung her eyes, and her cheeks turned a hot red; now, she was biting her lip as she went to stand.Before she left, she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I think I am going to take my advice...If you ever need anything and I am taking a giant leap here.  My name is Karen Page.  I work at Nelson, Murdock, and Page.  You can contact me there if you ever want to talk about anything.  I know what it feels like to like to drink for all the wrong reasons.  Watching myself and you put that in my mind tonight.  Also, thanks for helping me get rid of that creep.”Then she backed up, grabbed her giant purse, wiped her eyes, wondering if she should go to the bathroom to put cold water on her face before she decided to leave the bar

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