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 Posted: Fri Aug 30, 2013 8:53 pm
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Posted: Fri Aug 30, 2013 11:28 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 11, 2013 8:07 am
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Gearvin was out taking a stroll, mostly to get his mind off a few things. The older gentleman was mostly conflicted about events over the last month or so. He was sure that Anastasia was laughing at him over all of this. Surely. Why else would he be confused? He knew she wouldn't have wanted to see him work himself into an early grave. It was about that time that he came across an alleyway that he stopped and blinked. Well, unless he was mistaken, that was Miss Cherri. His eyes narrowed, however. There seemed to be some man accosting her. No... His eyes narrowed even more, his face suddenly an unreadable mask. Not accosting, if the glint of blood on that knife was any indication. The way she flinched from him only confirmed his suspicions and he quickly took his wand out, his face still a mask of no emotion. He walked quite calmly into the alleyway, taking note of the area and seemingly minding his business until he got to the two. "I would advise you let her go." His voice was a quiet whisper, but anyone who knew him would recognize the quiet rage simmering in his eyes. He shifted his weight a bit, ready to do something should he need to. "If you do not...." He let his voice trail off, letting the unspoken threat linger in the air. He was not a Slytherin for nothing, considering that he'd survived probably the worst house for backstabbing and betrayal. "Let us just leave it at that, hmm?"
Propriety helps to keep a distinction between those that have pride, and those that have none.
┏━━━━━━━━━┓
Location: Random Alleyway
State: Simmering
OOC: Sorry about the lateness of this post >_<
┗━━━━━━━━━┛ |
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Posted: Fri Sep 13, 2013 9:08 pm
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Posted: Fri Sep 13, 2013 10:56 pm
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Pain. All Nicole could feel was pain. Her tears had stopped running after he had finished carving the M of "MINE" into her chest so now all she could do was let out dry sobs when her very breath hurt her. And just as she was thinking of a way to make sure he children ended up safe her old boss had turned up making her eyes widen. Any hope she had died the moment she saw her ex come from the shadows but now a tiny wick had been lit. She didn't know how or why he was here but she would not count out any miracles that appear to her. She didn't even notice his name slipping from between her chapped lips until Gregory had turned back to her and connected all the dots. Even in the midst of all this a slight blush brushed across her face at the insinuation that she and Gearvin were a couple. Not only was he not interested he would never be now that he's seen her like this. So weak, so fragile, so broken. It was the one belief that she had never been able to shake from her previous marriage.
She was unlovable.
Suddenly Nicole was gently pried away from the brick wall, her back reacting to the cold as her mind supplied her with the knowledge that her shirt was ripped from the back. For a thousandth of a second she thought she was given a chance to flee, then she was right back in her ex's oppressive grasp only his front was pressed to her naked back with his arm surrounding her torso leaving her arms held closely at her side while his stained knife was brought back to her neck making her flinch away from the cold uncaring steel.
"I wasn't expecting another player in this little drama of mine, but I do so love an audience. So tell me old man, while I still have my patience, what is it that drew you to our little desert flower here? Was it her eyes?" His knife trailed up to her terrified sienna browns. "Maybe it was her lovely skin..." the knife was now moving in nondescript designs upon her cheek nicking her here and there before he finally stopped, as if he had an epiphany. "Oh I know! It was these wasn't it?" the knife was now resting upon her plump reddened lips littered with bite marks from Nicole's attempts to stifle her screams. "Have you tasted them yet? I have." she didn't have to turn her head to see the smug grin and delighted glint in his cold eyes, she could hear it. |
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Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 8:41 pm
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Gearvin sneered openly, looking the man over. Oh yes, like he was interested on moving on after seeing what he had just witnessed. His comments made his blood seethe, and he drew himself up to his full, prideful Slytherin pureblood self, proper poise and stature shining through as he looked condescendingly at the man before him. Oh yes, he would pay dearly for what he just said, and Gearvin was sure that Anastasia would be applauding him right now. "So, you are dearly in love with attention, hmm? And of course you have patience. Why, you just waited with bated breath to take Nicole home before laying one of your repugnant fingers on her." He could see it now, how timid she had been when they first had truly met, how she seemed to shrink from him initially only to be only comfortable around two males, one of them her son and the other her boss. How she had become stronger, and how that strength had been ripped away by a repugnant bottom-feeder. "You do so love, control, hmm? The feeling of being superior? Of thinking you are the king of all you survey. But of course you can't have that, can you? You only scrape and sniff around those better than you in an attempt to better yourself, or if failing that, dragging them down to the depths with you. You are a parasite, you know this, and you cannot abide building things, you can only destroy." He tapped his wand against his shoulder as he thought, a smirk playing across his features as he regarded the man before him. How he would love to do as Chalmes would often do in circumstances such as these, and brutally beat the man into oblivion. However, that would do nothing but cause trouble for himself. Decided, he lashed out with a spell, a nonverbal Petrificus Totalus. "I think I shall be taking Miss Cherri now, hmm?"
Propriety helps to keep a distinction between those that have pride, and those that have none.
┏━━━━━━━━━┓
Location: Random Alleyway
State: Simmering
OOC: Sorry about the lateness of this post >_<
┗━━━━━━━━━┛ |
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Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 9:14 pm
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Tell me exactly
what am I supposed to do?
Now that I have
allowed you to beat me!
Do you think that
we could play another game?
Maybe I can win this time?
☒Single ☒Technically insane
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
►Gregory could see the man's anger from here, it was quite a sight to be honest. He almost thought he'd come running up to him with a punch in the face before he collected himself making the man quirk a smirk. A sure Slytherin tactic, so he was dealing with a snake? No matter, Ravens ate them after all...he thinks. He was so busy trying to remember that simple fact that he nearly missed what the old guy was saying. Love being in control.....superior...king...yeah that sounded a bit right. A parasite? Well that's just mean! Looking at the man in front of him he could see that even if he wanted to fight he would barely scrape by, the man had a wand and he didn't which was enough of an advantage as they come. Unless...no, as much as he'd like to return the favor he wouldn't take his dear ex-wife's wand. What would be the fun in beating her next time if they weren't on equal playing fields? Or, as equal as he'd let them anyways. Knowing his time was at an end he decided to leave with a bang and not a whimper, now where was that quote from? "Don't think this will be the last you see of me pretty Nikki." Gregory whispered in the shivering woman's ear, either by cold or by fear but both worked well for him. "I'll get you my pretty...and those little brats too!" he chuckled and just barely managed to dodge the silent curse sent towards him by the old man. He laughed loudly and wagged his finger in a tsking motion. "Fine. Take her! Let's just say that this is the end to Act one, shall we?" Ever the Ravenclaw he took a pouch of special powder and threw it upon the ground creating an instant darkness surrounding them and only dissipating when he was no where to be found. Then, and only then, did Nicole allow herself to crumple to the ground in a dead faint.◄
✗Where: Alleyway
✗Who: Nicole
✗Doing: Nuna
✗Wearing: the clothes on my back
It doesn't really seem
I'm getting through to you.
Though I see you weeping so sweetly.
I think that you might
have to take another taste,
a little bit of hell this time. |
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Posted: Sat Jul 05, 2014 11:22 am
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When the day is done, the weight is on my mind
How should I give up, how should I survive?
Leaning to the side of the busy street
Looking down, these people never notice me
Am I the only one who thinks it's hard to breathe?
✫ - ✬ - ✭ - ✮ - ✯ - ✰
☾Momo stumbled out of the muggle club haphazardly only the tiniest bit of drunk. He had been so happy for his sudden growth spurt pushing him past five feet combined with the surprising anxiousness to return back to London that only after being home a week he had slipped an ageing potion from his stepfather and used it to age him another three or so years. No matter how old he might dress if he hadn't taken the potion it wouldn't have taken a detective to realize he wasn't old enough to do what he was doing. So he took the potion and dressed in his newer more sensual dress that he had purchased through owl mail and he loved every stitch of it. He knew he had always dressed differently, he supposed it had something to do with his early years where his Mum would dress him like a doll in frilly girl dresses to have tea parties in. But after awhile wasn't he supposed to stop liking it? He honestly didn't know since now it was the only things he could possibly see himself ever wearing. He loved the feel of the softer clothes on his skin and he especially loved of they made him look. Almost ethereal and otherworldly and he loved it. That being said, he unfortunately had a long way to go before he could wear higher heels than what he was wearing. Speaking of his heels, they were hurting his feet; cute as they were he decided after a bit of awkward wobbling to finally take them off and let them breathe through his fishnets.
Momo gave a long sigh of relief as his feet felt the cool ground beneath them and didn't even hear the men sneaking up behind him until one grabbed him on the elbow startling him. "My, what a pretty lil' thing you are. What are you doing out on the streets by yourself.?" He didn't answer, didn't want to answer because he was sure he might vomit not only from the alcohol in his system but also the stench of it on the guy's breath. Plus his and his buddy's leering wasn't helping the rolling in his stomach either. One of them decided to creep closer causing him to take an unconscious step backwards not realizing he was backing himself into an alleyway. "Aww, scared pretty lady? There's nothing to be scared of here, we're all friends here." he reeked even worse than the first guy and the third was just standing there with a horrid grin on his face. It was then Momo's small amount of common sense not effected by the alcohol was screaming obscenities at him for not bringing his wand with him for a just in case moment such as this one. He didn't even have a phone! He took another couple steps back as they three men kept coming closer until his nearly naked back brushed against the cold stone of the alleyway. s**t, he was trapped!★
✫ - ✬ - ✭ - ✮ - ✯ - ✰
I feel it's hard to say what's on my mind
I feel it's hard to say what's not inside
You think your fight is over
It's only so much closer
I reach my hands to the sky
And fly
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Posted: Sat Jul 05, 2014 1:19 pm
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This was not his finest hour, and he would happily admit that to anyone except his overbearing twit of a young brother. Emmet had been sleeping, as normal, got up and went to work, got off and decided he'd like an adult beverage as a reward for even getting up before noon. He had asked Niall to go and get them something to share only to be met with a reprimand and a warning that he could become dependent and that alcohol was a drug and blahblahblahblah. So he went through a bottle of firewhiskey once in a blue moon? So what?! But he just wouldn't shut up so he left him still talking and decided to just head over in the muggle world for one of their drinks. The bottles clinked in the plastic bag than hung in his hand while the other held his cigarette letting the smoke billow behind him as he walked in the comfortably warm summer night towards where he thinks he parked his bike. He was passing an alleyway when he saw a group of men huddled there and gave them a passing glance. He would've kept going if he hadn't seen a flash of color and a head of bright nearly white blonde hair in the midst of the hoard. Something didn't feel right with him so he crept closer to them and heard the men speaking to the obviously underage girl and felt a rise of bile and anger. He wanted to help the girl out but he couldn't go in guns cocked and fists flying, that was stupid and reckless thinking that could get him and the girl killed. So he decided on going in only half-cocked.
"Crystal! Crystal there ya are! I've been a'lookin' fer ya fer quite a bit. 'Lo gents." he said acting like he'd just seen the group of men but kept his eye contact with the young girl. She stared at him still probably petrified from the men that she didn't think she could trust him but he kept his eye contact and tried to assure her that he was trying to help. One of the guys pushed towards him with a curious and slightly angry look on his face. You're saying you know here?" he asked him roughly. Emmet scoffed acting the part of a young drunk yuppie. "Know 'er? Course I know 'er she's my sister! I'd 'ave ta know my own sister right?" he answered like it was the dumbest question ever created. He managed to slip through them without them attempting anything and was now standing right besides her. He thought she was just underage when he saw her from afar, up close she was just a kid! He lightly took a hold of her wrist and didn't react when she flinched at the action or when he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Don' say anythin', jus' look relieved t'at I'm 'ere, smile a bit an' jus' keep walkin'. No matter what, jus'. Keep. Walkin'." Emmet made sure to emphasize the last words and only pulled back once she nodded. Oi, wot you jus' say ta her?" on of the men asked looking at the pair strangely. He put back on his dopey smile and looked sheepish. Nothin' really, jus' a joke I 'eard earlier" he lied seamlessly. He didn't want to stick around to see if he bought it, he began pulling the girl besides him grinning and nodding until one pushed himself into his face. Emmet wasn't horribly short, he was about average at five feet ten and a half inches but this guy still practically towered him easily in the six feet range. "I think you're lying. I think you just want her for yo-AAAAHHHHH" Tired and not wanting to wait for him to finish his sentence he used his still lit cigarette and embedded it right between the guy's eyes and swung his bag of alcohol hearing the glass shatter and the thud of impact upon one of the men before getting a better grip on the young girl and running. The one man that hadn't been injured began to run after him soon followed by the one he had burned. The chase was on it seemed. |
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Posted: Sat Jul 05, 2014 2:12 pm
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 9:54 pm
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I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
 ════════════════════════
Sʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ Aʟᴜᴍɴɪ || Lᴏsᴛ || Pᴜʀᴇʙʟᴏᴏᴅ
════════════════════════
Virgil whistled, walking along a narrow alleyway in London. He hadn't felt this good in years. The disturbing voice he associated with his time with Megan was long gone, and while he had fits of violence on occasion, they mostly involved throwing things and serious snogging sessions with Seong. He was sure that the older man would have kicked him out at some point, but that never happened. Instead, he and him were living as close to an idyllic life as Virgil could ever hope for after all he'd done. Which, sadly, was not what he thought he'd be doing. If his eleven year old self could see him, he'd shake his head at how far he'd fallen in life. However, that same eleven year old didn't know the future, and what it would have brought. He knew he still had bad days, heck, he was certain he should see a healer for minds at some point, but couldn't bring himself to do so. How much of his sanity he had probably hinged on the fact that he felt safe and secure, and that he wasn't going to Azkaban. He should be in there, though. Locked away from the rest of society for what he'd done. However, how could he argue that he wasn't in his right mind?
He turned down another part of the alleyway when he heard it. A slight scuff on the pavement, a whisper of a robe against the air, and his wand was immediately in his hand. He'd had it quite easy, of course. Nothing could ever be that easy. Not for him. Frowning, scarlet eyes scanned the shadows and he heard a rushing sound in his ears. No! He wasn't going to lose it! Not now, and certainly never again! Grinding his teeth, he turned around, and his eyes spied a form he hadn't seen in years. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hex you where you stand..." He was shocked at how calm his voice sounded. He was terrified. How could he sound so calm when the object of his insanity stood a mere few yards from him? It made no sense, unless he was cracking again. Merlin, he hoped he wasn't!
════════════════════════
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 10:21 pm
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So in the end
I will be -- what I will be
No loyal friend
Was ever there for me
Now we say -- goodbye
We say -- you didn't try.
 ════════════════════════
Mотнєґ || Fоґмёя Gґуffїиdоґ || Їп$aпё
════════════════════════
Megan slipped behind Virgil, robes whispering around her as she drew close. She taught him well, however, as he heard her and turned to face her. She sighed dramatically as he threatened her. Hex her? Who did he think he was? She taught him everything he knew. He was her disciple, one that had wandered from her flock several years ago. She was just coming to collect him back into the fold, after all. She tsk'ed, her red hair falling around her as she shook her head. "My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I? All that awaits you is a somber morrow, no matter where the winds may blow." She circled the young man, who never let his gaze lift from her. Oh, she could see it though. He was afraid. His eyes showed it clearly. They also hid what she had come to see on a regular basis. His true self, locked away from the public. He really thought he could fit in?
She walked up to him boldly and he flinched. Oh, good, he remembered the lessons she taught! That made this so much simpler. Oh, she never harmed the boy. Made him into her son, her perfect son, yes. But never did she harm him. Despite what her family might think, she could never harm her children. Only give them proper direction. It was too bad Richard could never exactly figure that out. It would have made his time with her that much simpler. "Oh Virgil, my sweet son. They damaged you, didn't they? You're not yourself. I can see that. Come, let metake you home. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be a family again, to be whole? After all, it's what you deserve, isn't it? To have a family that loves you, cares for you, and would never abandon you? I haven't. You know that." She reached out a hand and patted his face. Virgil froze under her touch, and she could see the war raging behind his eyes. He was fighting himself. She knew he was. Why would he fight so hard? He knew that she cared, had always cared.
════════════════════════
Location: Random Alleyway
Thinking: Oh, they broke my poor sweet son...
OOC:
These tears you cry
Have come too late
Take back the lies
The hurt, the blame!
And you will weep
When you face the end alone
You are lost!
You can never go home
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 11:32 pm
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I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
════════════════════════
Sʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ Aʟᴜᴍɴɪ || Lᴏsᴛ || Pᴜʀᴇʙʟᴏᴏᴅ
════════════════════════
Virgil didn't know where she got her poems from. He recalled a similar one being recited to him years ago, back before fourth year. She had an obsession with poetry, didn't she? Had to, considering how often she quoted it. That, and statements about family. He knew exactly why she had that obsession. He didn't care about her obsession, only that it extended to him. Which was disturbing in its own right. He had a family, as dysfunctional as it was, but it was his. She wasn't a part of it. Hadn't been for three years. Merlin, had it been three years already? Somehow it seemed like longer. It certainly felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime he would prefer never to return to. "I don't give a damn about what you think awaits me. I'm not your puppet anymore. I refuse to be. Now, get the ******** away from me before I show you just how well I was taught by you, mudblood's tramp." He was treading into dangerous territory now, he knew it. He knew that calling her exactly what she was could end quickly in his death. And he was fighting. He was fighting tooth and nail to retain his calm, his composure. He could already feel the tendrils of his former psychosis creeping in. All brought around by her.
When she walked up, he couldn't suppress the flinch of fear, and he could see it on her face. She was enjoying this. He could see it as clear as day, and he knew this could only end badly. As she spoke, he fought a wave of revulsion and longing, and swallowed both down. Circe, she was doing it! The same words, so long ago, repeated now. Hearing them as a fourteen year old had been like finding an oasis in a desert, and he had drunk freely in. He knew she had that power, to find the one c***k in his armour, and exploit it. He had fallen for it then, and he was fighting tooth and nail to keep from falling again. "Oh, yeah, how did that work out for Rick again? That's right, you tortured and scarred him. You broke your son. How does that work again? For someone that cherishes family, how the ******** did you screw your own up so bloody badly? Maybe there's something wrong with you." He froze as her hand patted his cheek, and he felt like a deer caught in headlights. He had to hand it to muggles, they did find some useful terms for the feelings he was having at this moment.
Mentally he could feel the other part of him, the one that he'd locked away warring with the real him. He shuddered, and caused the hand patting him to still. "Oh yeah, words hit a mark, didn't they? Well, too bloody bad. I told you, I'm not coming with you, and there's not a thing you can do about it. You'd have to kill me, imperious me, or torture me into madness to get me to come back with you. You know it, and I know it. Now, get your mudblood-loving hands off of me before I remove them." If Seong or Jaslyn heard him now, he was certain they both would have many words with him. However, he was trying anything and everything to get away. He didn't care how he sounded, even if he sounded like a pureblood elitist. He used to be at one point, and knowing her own sordid affairs, he knew that even reminding her about it would get her riled to the point he could possibly escape. Hopefully alive and sane.
════════════════════════
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
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Posted: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:37 am
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There was nothing in sight
But memories left abandoned
There was nowhere to hide
The ashes fell like snow
And the ground caved in
Between where we were standing
And your voice was all I heard
That I get what I deserve
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁
Where am I? Some alley in London
Who am I with? Himself
What am I doing? Coping
What am I thinking? I don't want to remember anymore!
Who's Important to me? Elliott Holt
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁
Pancras sat outside, overlooking the estate gardens where he could see his brother climbing a tree. Hammy seemed to be enjoying himself, the four-year-old grinning and trying to reach the branches above him with short arms and an even more determined expression on his face. Pancras shook his head. He'd climbed that same tree before too, and had gotten a broken wrist when he fell and landed on it. Hammy was determined to do better than his older brother, and had managed to climb higher than he had when he noticed a shadow cross over him. Pancras looked up, his face crunched up in confusion when he saw the man that he rationally knew was his father, but that was about it. He'd never interacted with him much, and every time he saw him, he had an expression on his face that suggested disapproval.
Instantly Pancras straightened his spine and schooled his face into as much neutrality. He was a wizard, a pureblood, and he'd been told over and over that he was better than the rabble that surrounded them. His father had drilled into him that he had to act properly, and his actions reflected the family. He had to be perfection, and Pancras tried, really. He tried so hard and so often that he was certain that his spine would permanently be as straight as a broom and his face was going to be like those porcelain dolls he'd seen in the attic.
His father said nothing, but Pancras could tell from his expression that he disapproved of something. What, the young redhead didn't know, but as he looked over to Hammy, he blinked, his eyes going wide. His younger brother was much higher in the tree than he had been originally, and Pancras already knew that his brother's weight could easily snap the branch he was standing on. He made to stand, but felt a pressure on his shoulder from his father. He looked back to his father, and saw that his father seemed to be waiting. "Father, Hammy's going to-"
"Hamilton," his father corrected. "He will learn from his mistakes, just like you have. You are to sit here and do nothing. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes father." Pancras wanted to run, to warn his brother that something wasn't right and that he should get down. However, the cracking of the branch was all that Hammy would get before he fell from the tree.
Pancras was already on his feet and running, ignoring his father's calls and trying to ignore the fact that Hammy had fallen from a great distance. When he got to his brother's side, he dropped to his knees and looked his brother over. Hammy seemed to be knocked out, and a large bruise seemed to be forming on his forehead.
Pancras could already feel the shadow before he saw his father, and he knew his father was incensed. He refused to look at him though, deciding instead to grab his brother's hand and try and wake him up. It wasn't until he felt a vice-like grip on his shoulder that he looked up and noticed his father looking angry. "Pancras, when I tell you to do nothing, you do it. Understand?"
"But Hammy's not waking up! He's hurt! I have to do something!" He looked at the older male, pleading with his eyes that he do something, anything.
However, a shark crack sounded through the air as his father's hand struck his cheek. Blue eyes wide, he held a hand up to his face, his expression one of shock. "He shouldn't have been climbing the tree to begin with. The house elves will care for him. You, on the other hand, need to know your place, and when you should act and when you shouldn't. Come along. You have lessons you should be attending."
"Yes father." Pancras felt tiny, and stood, ignoring the mud on his knees and the brother that was even now looking far too still for his liking. Pancras followed his father to the house, his eyes downcast as he tried to school his face into neutrality. It wasn't until later that he saw Hammy again, and the boy was having trouble focusing with one eye. That side of his face was bruised, and he was walking with a slight limp, but Pancras was at least glad to see his brother well enough to be up and about.
Hammy never climbed that tree again, however.
Blue eyes opened as the cat tried to make sense of where he was now. It was hot, and smelly, but it was safe. As safe as the feline was likely to get. He stood, shaking his head slightly as the memory slipped from his foremost thoughts and his mind turned to food. He was hungry, and there was really only one way he knew to get food in this state. He hadn't even figured out how to change back, and he didn't even know if he wanted to. Life was much simpler as a cat, he decided. No one used him, no one messed with his head. He was just a cat. Jesse could live with being just a cat if that meant he was safe.
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OOC:
In every loss in every lie
In every truth that you'd deny
And each regret and each goodbye
Was a mistake too great to hide
And your voice was all I heard
That I get what I deserve
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