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Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para

Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Violence, Realistic, Rated R, 18+, Action, Adventure

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  • Cosima stopped just out of sight in the line of trees. She stayed where she was for a very long while, and considered bolting. And then she decided to do something that was probably a little bit stupid. She pulled off the beanie that hid her hair and her ears. Icy blonde hair tumbled from it, and fell about her shoulders and down her back. It was beautiful and had such a wonderful sheen from it, and it smelled like rosewater and bergamot. From that alone, one probably would not be able to tell that she hadn’t had a shower in days. Too bad the rest of her gave it away.

    From beneath the long hair that fell about her were the tips of her long, pointed ears.

    She gave a little calm sigh and slipped out of the trees, shoving the beanie into her pocket. “You need help.” Cosima stated, lightly. It wasn’t a question. Her voice was soft and careful, her stormy gray eyes searching the woman. She remained mostly in the shadows, mostly hidden from view. “Let me help you.” She added, gently, her eyes a little narrowed. “I saved you. Do you really think I’d hurt you?”

  • Finn would have been a fool to let the sun shine go to waste--he knew that at any moment a storm could sneak across the sea and pounce on Ireland in a moments notice.  Besides, he's incredibly pale.  Even for a young Irish lad.

    It's chilly despite the sun, moisture in the air causing fog to form in the hills, slowly creeping along Country Kerry like an invading army of spirits.  Thick enough that he can barely make out his hand in front of his face.   But he doesn't mind much-- with the fog he figured he wouldn't have to worry about anyone ringing the gardaí because he's strutting around with a sheathed sword on his back, the hilt jutting up over his right shoulder for easy access.

    Thinking even if someone did manage to get ahold of the guards that the village is so far off the beaten track that it'd take them at least two hours to even get out this far into the countryside, by which time he'd be gone-- he starts to jog through the heavy, grey fog.  Then he starts to run through it, relying solely on all his senses but his sense of sight to guide him through.  

    He stops by a small ruin of a fairy fort atop a small hill, leaning against one of the crumbling rock walls.  Looking down the hill towards a fairly well hidden loch; the waters seemed a deep blue, and old, tall trees surrounded it like stoic funeral goers. 

    Sliding down the grassy hill, he slowly approaches the edge of the water.  Paying little mind to the fog as it recedes around him, odd as it is.  He slips the Fragarach off his back, then tosses the sword to the ground.  The scabbard was enchanted to never seperate from the blade, but he took a moment to encourage the hilt not to move more than three feet from the edge of the water.  Finally he casts a camoflauge over the blade for extra security, then he pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside.

    Mind you, the camoflauge only hid the sword from view.  It still had a magical presence, though most was surpressed by a labyrinth of cloaking spells.  Some still managed to slip through the cracks, though.  Despite numerous attempts.. 

    With no idea he's far from alone, Finn continues to undress.  Kicking his shoes over to the base of a nearby tree for safe-keeping, which his balled up socks are quick to follow.  Better hurry before the rain comes.. 

  • Harry dud ot realize how damn far this place was... and just how dickish people were. "Feck you. Ye stupid feckin' bus driver." He said as he gave the bus a few punches and kicks to it's side right before and as it drove away. He was pissed as hell at the bus driver now. Granted, he had snuck on the bus without paying. But that didn't mean he needed to physically be draged off.

    But here he was. Seemingly not to far from where he needed to be, but still a ways away. Which sucks. Especially because he has no desire to walk anymore than he already had (which admittedly was quite a lot).

    But he did anyway.

    If nothing else, it simply gave him plenty of time to think.

    He honestly couldn't even remeber when things got the way they did. Or if they had actually even just been like that fromteh beginning. He couldn't say when she had begun to get so paranoid. Or when she had forced him to become part of her rituals. Or when yelling became th prime mode of communication between the two. When everything he'd done had become a sign of the devil. Or when she started putting weird marks and stuff on him when he slept., Essentailly, he wasn't sure when things got bad. But they did. Now here he was.

    He tried to say that was in the past though. Now he was starting all over again. Least thats what he told himself.

    Especially as he got closer to where he needed to be. The whole time he could feel the cocktail of feeling as it bubled up and swirled around inside of him. Fear being the most prevalent of all. Since he didn't know how or if this was going to work. But he was hoping he'd finally get the answers he so desperately wanted and needed. Maybe finally understand why all this stuff was happening to him. Why his mom was the way she was. Though he could and would take literally any answer he could get.

    With those nice thoughts in mind, he knocked on the door he had just arrived at.

  • The Minister, cold in his manner of being, rolled his eyes at nearly everything the Roma had to say. As it was were, there was already so much about the life style of the Romani that Frollo could not abide. Their very existence was a blight upon Paris, as he saw it. But lying? That was something that he could not tolerate.

    There was a chance, albeit small that she might have been telling the truth. It wasn't uncommon nor unheard of for Gypsies to migrate to another place to give birth to their unholy spawn. However, if she was simply lying in the hopes that she could avoid an arrest, she was very mistaken.

    Frollo almost scoffed out loud at the word "husband". What a ridiculous notion. Gypsies have no love in their hearts. What need do they have to marry anyone?

    "Your ruse is clever, Gypsy. But not clever enough. If what you say is true, then surely you can present some sort of evidence of your claims?"

    The Judge's eyes narrowed once more and he took another step towards her, taking pride in invading her personal space. Very well, then. He could play this little game of her's too. But Frollo wondered, just how long did Cthylla hope to hide her guilt from him? 

  • What the...?” Harry looked down at the book he had just found with confusion evident in his face. He’d always been a bit of a snooper (mostly when it came too his mom). This day was no different. She was out and about running errands, so he was looking places he shouldn’t have been. Eventually bringing him to this book written in some foreign language, the only recognizable word being “SOOTHSAYER” being written in all caps on the front cover. He muttered the word to himself a few times, but the word felt to weird and foreign in his mouth so he eventually stopped.

    Gripping the book tightly in his arm, he took care to put everything back in its place. He didn’t need another excuse for his mom to come after him. Then he carefully navigated the traps placed around the room. When he was free,  he quickly dashed to his room, where he locked his door and gently placed the book on his bed.

    Pushing some hair behind his ear and tilting his head a bit to the side, he just stared at the bok for a while. Hoping that he’d eventually be able to understand the foreign words on the cover. Which was to no real avail. The letters sort of just... swirled around in front of him. Like they were taunting him or something. It made him want to fight this stupid book (though knowing him, he’d probably loose).

    “Stupid fucking book.” He flopped down on the bed, right next to the book. And let out an exasperated sigh. “With your stupid foreign words and highly enticing cover... you taunt me. Especially since you probably have answers to questions that I have. But it looks like I’m not gonna end up with any semblance of an answer. Since your in a different fucking language.”

    He was understandable feeling immensely frustrated. Knowing his answers were right there yet he would seemingly never know the,. Just because he didn’t understand the language in which they were written. Since the only word he could understand was Soothsayer. Which when he thought about it, reminded him that Google was a thing. A thing he could use to find out what the fuck a Soothsayer is.

    Which is exactly what he did.

    Pulling out his phone, he searched the term up. Getting him a few general things about them, including a few definitions and a Wikipedia article. Which got him at least to the point of understanding that a Soothsayer was someone who was able to see into the future. Which was cool. But didn’t answer his questions. As luck would have it though, he found one more thing... the name of a shop, and an address to go along with it.

    There wasn’t really much information on the place. From what he could gather at the most basic level, it was owned by a woman. One who seemed to know what she was doing, at least form what he could tell. The place, from what he found, seems pretty legit. Though there admittedly wasn’t much to go on. Besides a few extremely short blog posts and personal reviews on it.

    But that was all he needed.

    He was looking for a reason to leave anyway. So what better reason than to find out some valuable information? Besides not getting his ass beat for taking the book in the first place. At least that’s what he told himself while he backed a backpack and a suitcase. That he was leaving for a good reason. To get answers.

    Though, he of course had no real plan to ever come back.

  • "Thanks. Alec flashed Romus a smile before taking a sip of his drink. Finally loosening his grip on the glass in front of him. "I like to think us Sunai are fairly badass. Theirs... no one else like us out there. Which is pretty cool in my mind." He spoke honestly. He was really the only one of his kind that he knew face to face. The only one of his kind that he knew for sure actually existed. Which to him, was really cool. Also made you feel that much more lonely but he tried not to think about that part too much. So instead, he was consistently trying to encourage himself in some way, shape, or form. Otherwise, he would freak out and basically always feel like shit.

    Nice to meet you to Romus." Being the slightly awkward guy he was, he kinda wanted to go in for a handshake. But that was a really formal and sort of weird thing to do. Especially to some guy, he'd just met in an old school styled diner essentially while stuffing your face with massive cheeseburgers. So he didn't do that. Instead just ran a hand through his hair and smiled again at Romus. "What'd you play?" He asked, his head tilting a bit to the side when the question had finally left his mouth. "I have a show tonight. I can get you in if you want?" He finished off with a shrug.

  • "'We've got a hunt for you,' she said," Nes grumbled under her breath dismissively. From time to time she could still feel a light pinch of growing pains. Because as if basically being trapped underground to have an eye kept on her monstrous powers as well as spells locking her in place so that her growth wasn't going to kill herself wasn't enough she was still feeling herself growing in places. Yeah, fan-fucking-tastic 'rents. REAL SAVE THERE!

    Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes. The angry stomping down some fuckin' street in Canada that was away from her parents for all that she cared to know and was getting the diggy-giggy goods on some witch who was running amuck around town and turning people into frogs and shit. Maybe... not exactly frogs.. but it was something like that dammit. Nes knew that her mom was giving her some freaking easy peasy job. Some young kid that was just discovering their witchy powers were going to be walking around with a witch hat on and possibly a black cat jinxing everyone and their left toe. Once more. Fucking thanks, mom. You've been a real slice there with the hunts.  It's like she wasn't almost killed by a Wendigo to come hunt down some ansty kid throwing Harry Potter around everywhere.

    "Have you seen anything.... odd around here?" Neseva, our lovely hot head over here who was battling her body asked a woman who looked like she might have the goods around town about things.

    "Odd?" The meekly old woman with her delightful granny cracking voice asked. She was tending a flower bed outside of her floral shop. Her aura was just as bright as the flowers. Pink and glowing. Spring was here, after all, people would be crowding for the pretty bright plants again. "Now, what do you mean by odd, little lady?" My my, what pretty eyes.

    Lady. Hell yeah. Nes puffed out her B-sized chest because that was something to be proud of, dammit. Compliment on the eyes too. It was sweet of her.

    "Yeah, odd. Like people saying some, strange stuff happening, ya'know? Maybe... frogs hopping around? Or... Swarms of bees? Things floating? Ahhhh...." She leaned her head in, eyes narrowed, making the older woman leaned in with her. "Witchy sort of stuff?"

    The old lady's laugh was like warm cookies sitting out on the window to cool on a Sunday morning. Gosh, not her too. "Witchy? Heavens, no! I don't watch those sorts of things, my dear. But you know.. There have been some erm.. dark teens hanging around out back lately. In the alley's behind the strip malls."

    Neseva's golden eyes widened a little with interest. "Ohh, dark? You mean like, lots of makeup, black clothes, they maybe say rawr?"

    The woman with hair as white as Nes' nodded. "Why yes. Exactly like that." She pointed a wrinkly but well-manicured finger. "Right over there. Near that devil shop."

    Nes glanced. Total goth store. The poor granny. The teen had to keep from laughing as she turned back to the lady. "Aww, well thank you. Maybe I'll see if there are some frogs over there or something."

    The lady straightened up. "Well, you be careful. And stay out of trouble." 

    "I'll do my very best, ma'am. You have an amazing rest of your day." Nes gave a mock sort of salute and turned on the heels paint-splattered converse and walked her happy ass straight towards that shop. She knew she would be an odd sight walking on into there. Sure she had moods of being goth some days. Most others she was bright as ever. Today she had shorts that hugged the body she finally had over a light pink bodysuit that squeezed her and framed her. Over that was a floppy plaid shirt too large for her, it hung down far past the back of her legs. Greys, greens, and yellows in color. Her white hair was shaggy though still styled. And her sneakered feet kicked in that door of the Goth shop, albeit, lightly, and she shroud on in like the owned the place. Three minds registered and angered at her. She didn't care. 

    "Yooo~!" She sung as she skipped in delightedly. "Say, has anyone seen any weird shit lately?"

  • “Here’s an idea for you, kid. If you need a strap-on, then maybe you shouldn’t be entering it.” Kei stated, a brow arched high, amusement not lacking any as he glanced back at her. Blue hues wouldn’t waver until he went on with his search. She was secondary to what he was doing, whatever reasoning had him in the apartment to begin with. Loitering in a place still looked upon by the cops wasn’t what he wanted to be doing all night, either. Hearing footsteps behind him would come hardly as a surprise.


    Fine, he thought. So maybe he’d brought her there. Maybe he shouldn’t have after all. The worst she could do is scream, wasn’t it? He’d burn that bridge if he had to cross it. A glance was cast over his shoulder just to make sure she hadn’t stepped in anything she shouldn’t have. “This is the third one I’ve been in, its only been a couple of months since the first incident. They called the first one a burglary gone wrong. The second they labeled homicide. Same with this one... the place belongs to a frontman, maybe. By the looks of the place, it could’ve been another goon. Enough of those pile up at the morgue, it’d raise the man’s head. So I’m here.” Kei explained. “When a man with money doesn’t want to get his hands dirty? He hires somebody from the outside that doesn’t mind it.”

    Why was he telling her this? His thoughts were interrupted by the raising of the hairs on the back of his neck. His arms, the same. A glance back to the hallway was taken halfheartedly at first, and then, his head jerked around. “Sirius-” His words came off like a snap. The aggravated tone he had used all along up until then seemed soft in comparison. Blue hues shot past her shoulder where she would have made it as far as the bedroom doorway. They wouldn’t waver to whatever had caught his eye.

    There it crouched, at the end of the hall. Settled back on its haunches at the opposite end of the space, covering a decent third of the living room space with a long, lithe body coated in fur of a jet black substance… substance? The way it dripped to the carpet as some blackened tar-like material, he couldn’t call it fur. Kei would have measured it at four feet tall to the shoulder… too large for the paycheck he was hoping to receive from this little scouting trip. Far before the detail, white orbs seemed to glow in the space as the sun made had made its way down, casting shadows on the apartment. Those said orbs were trained on the pair at the opposite end of the apartment. It was undoubtedly something canine, talon-like nails digging into the carpet. A tail swayed in a slow and steady rhythm, honed in close to the heartbeat of the girl in its vision. Kei’s own was certainly moving faster.

  • Taylor has not a single clue how he should think of Kaia. Those damp curls of hair framing Kaia's face beckon Taylor closer, enticing him to wrap his large hands around the man's Rubixcube-like mind and fumble with the coloured squares. Puzzles allude Taylor. They frustrate him and seem ever-unsolvable. Yet, Kaia's puzzle is like it had been specifically made for Taylor to understand. While struggle to mimic the same intensity that Kaia has in his eyes, Taylor inevitably glances down at his lap where both of his hands rest, clutched into tight fists. 

    Bothered deeply by his own bashfulness, Taylor reacts to the compliment he recieves only by frowning a little. His blue eyes are deep set, meaning when he frowns he looks very serious in a kind of way that could look frightening, or suggestable depending on the situation. However, his blush takes the edge off it.

    Pet. Even if Kaia had meant to say something else and had been cut off by his own laughter, it reminds him of his unintentionally gained nickname. What kind of a nickname is pet? Somehow, it's not nearly as humilating as it may sound, rather, it carries an endearing intonation with it that just might induce a bunch of butterflies being released into his stomach. Words are powerful. Most times, Taylor does not know how to use that power effectively; more often than not he is content with his silence. Once, there was somebody in his life that knew exactly how to successfully exercise his voice. Not anymore.

    Taylor pulls the towel tighter around his waist when his nakedness is mentioned. Promptly, he dresses himself in both the tank and the pajyama pants without protest. He rolls the towel around his forearm before finding a place to hang it where it will dry off - the backrest of a chair. "Drag?" He asks, unsure. It insinuated they won't be going their seperate ways the following morning. Now he's wondering what he has just got himself into.

  • “I beg to differ,” Nikolas replied, his eyes still upon the blackened pancake with his nose wrinkled ever so slightly. “And I promise you’re not gonna be starving as long as you’re here.” Down the hatch, the pancake went, regardless. He wasn’t nearly awake enough for the reaction time it took to stop her. Nik looked onward with a grimace as it disappeared, waiting for the results.

    He watched her expression change amusingly. The entertained look left when embers were let loose in the kitchen, his whole body seemingly flinching at the reaction, wide-eyed with concern as he looked towards her. Hey, nothing was on fire. With that, Nik eased up a little. He wore a look of pity that he couldn’t stop her, a chuckle escaping all the same. “Told you, if you’re gonna trust anybody with advice on food, you can trust me.” He stated, the last bit of the sentence coming from over his shoulder as he passed on some of his breakfast to the avian that happily accepted.

     As he started to eat, a glance was cast to Europa, he opened his mouth to mention the syrup on standby before- …maybe not. That was a battle for another morning. One where he felt up to the task. Making quick work of his food, inevitably she still finished beforehand. When the last scrap left his plate, the last swig of coffee gone, he stood promptly. He picked up both empty plates and set them in the sink. Water was run over the top of his own, and… it could wait until they got back.


    “Alright, you ready?” Nikolas asked, heading towards the door. “Shoes? Jacket? Anything else you need?”  A pair of beat up sneakers were pulled onto his feet and laced, phone and wallet secured in his pockets. His keys dangled on his fingers as he waited for her.

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