Title: Paste Your Last Copy!
Sunday - March 16, 2008 12:58 AM (GMT)
Very simple. Just paste the last thing you copied.
| QUOTE |
| Natalie Grey (née James |
Working on an app. :]
Disdainful Soul - March 16, 2008 01:02 AM (GMT)
Rhi-Rhi - March 16, 2008 01:18 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| "What?" Kyran looked up at Lune, eyebrows drawn and brow knotted in confusion and annoyance. What the hell was he pouting about? That is before his eyes widened and his face flushed as realization struck like a big fat slap in the face. Oh. Oh crap. So that was why he was suddenly acting all distant and huffy, because he'd called him a dog? Open mouth, insert foot. "Oh. Oh, no. No, Lune, that was a joke..." he said, all heat and sarcasm and pride absent from his voice for once. If anything, now he just sounded worried. "I didn't mean anything by that...I mean, literally, technically, yeah you are a dog. In a manner of speaking...I mean you're a werewolf and everything, right...?" He trailed off, wondering if he was making this better or just jamming his foot deeper down his throat. Crap! Like hell did he wanna drive away the first person who wanted him around after they'd f***ed! "Look Pup, if it makes you feel better, you can call me a big pussy, alright?" he suddenly said, ducking under the water to rinse out his soapy hair--eugh, soap and not shampoo; that was gonna dry his hair out so badly!--before surfacing again and wading his way toward the shore. "'Cause I mean, technically I sorta am. Erm. Half ne'qael. Y'know, cat demon. Heh, get it? Pussy? Cat? Right..." He gave a sheepish laugh and a crooked grin, flashing sharp fangs. Man, did he feel like a complete jacka** right now. "But only this one time to make us even. I mean, I already have to deal with this 'pooky' business, so...uhm...yeah." |
...xD Working on a post on SotE, haha. Asterisks added. *laughs*
sunny - March 16, 2008 01:21 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| `directors |
okaaay. :)
jyyl94 - March 16, 2008 01:30 AM (GMT)
| CODE |
[font=Century Gothic] [align=center][SIZE=7][color=green]the basics ..[/SIZE][/color][/align] [color=purple] [b];;[/b] the name's [color=blue][b]janice[/b][/color] [b];;[/b] i had my first cry on the [color=blue][b]25th of november, 1994[/b][/color] [b];;[/b] born in [color=blue][b]malaysia[/b] [[asia]][/color] [b];;[/b] if you ever visit [color=blue][b]the city of KL[/b][/color], call me! [b];;[/b] i have been RPG-ing for [color=blue][b]1 year[/b][/color] [b];;[/b] i have been writing original and fanfiction stories for [color=blue][b]2 years[/b][/color] [align=center][SIZE=7][color=green]i bet you didn't know ..[/SIZE][/color][/align] [b];;[/b] i was brought up in [color=blue][b]hong kong[/b][/color] for [color=blue][b]3 years[/b][/color] [b];;[/b] up to now, i moved schools [color=blue][b]5 times[/b][/color] already [b];;[/b] i miss [color=blue][b]Hong Kong International School[/b][/color] badly [b];;[/b] i play the piano and am currently at [color=blue][b]Grade 7[/b][/color] (which, translated, is [color=blue][b]horror[/b][/color]) [b];;[/b] i don't know why, but i always [color=blue][b]multitask[/b][/color] [b];;[/b] i'm currently in the process of writing a book [color=blue][b]which i want to publish[/b][/color] [color=gray]I want to rant some more .. but i guess you can just contact me by PM, email or MSN. ;)[/color] [/color] [align=center][SIZE=7][color=green]P.S. ;; WAIT![/SIZE][/color][/align] [color=purple]Did you even [i]know[/i] that the font, [b]Century Gothic[/b], represents me? :lol:[/color] [/font] |
LOL, introducing myself. :)
Panda - March 16, 2008 01:33 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
"Come on, ye wee girlie, I have tae burn this dress, or something." She glanced across at his dress, lingering on the various stains it now bore. "Better yet, I'll meet ye at yer portrait hole. Monroe, ye look like ye've been man-handled." The corners of her lips twitched at the thought and she released his arm, slipping from his grip quicker than a vaselined kneazle. She retreated from him a few steps, but turned just before the stairway, and threw a glance at him over her shoulder. "An' fer Merlin's sake, put some knickers on!" |
part of a post. Had to do a lot of cut/pasting with this one.
RomanHk - March 16, 2008 01:49 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Delaware == 0 |
Online game, heh.
December, Esq - March 16, 2008 02:36 AM (GMT)
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Ahh, I don't have anything. :(
Clipsed - March 16, 2008 02:37 AM (GMT)
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| [center]Your profile has been APPROVED Welcome to Corus![/center] |
Clearly someone was cool enough to get approved XP
Disdainful Soul - March 16, 2008 02:38 AM (GMT)
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| CHARACTER INFORMATION Character Name: Maya Andross Nickname/Alias: Species: Bimm Age: 16 Gender: Female Home World: Bimmisaari Descriptive Information Height: 1.22 metres Weight: 22kg Hair/Fur Color: Auburn Eye Color: Green Skin Color: * |
Same profile I was working on earlier, just showing a friend.
pathogenicoma - March 16, 2008 02:49 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| “Ideas, sure… I’ll have to run some tests later.” Paije nodded, her hair brushing against the back of her neck, which was all he could see since she wasn't facing him, seemed to be trying rather not to have to look at him. To face him. Too afraid of what he'd see. Not that he could possibly know that, not that he could possibly guess. Or at least that's what she kept telling herself, once she figured out what she was doing. Avoidance. It seemed she had a long, perilous history with that word. That habit. So of course, she didn't verbally reply. Paije practically blocked Adrian out while she worked, moving about the kitchen gathering things. Avoidance. No, she was just focused on getting everything prepared. She had no idea what he might ask her to make him, especially after drinking Irish Carbombs all night when they'd gone out the week before. An insane beverage if she'd ever seen one. And every time he prepared one and drained it down, all she could think of was explosions in Ireland. It was the name. Or maybe the angry way he drank them, the ugly look he gave the barman. Her skin twitched when he got near, leaning on the counter parallel her. She felt a frisson run up her spine and then back down it. Or perhaps it had gone down then up, or both at once. Or she was imagining things. Sensory overload. For a moment she didn't breath. Didn't dare to. Hyper-aware of him, so close she could practically smell his breath, or taste the scent of his body and clothes. It was strange how no ones clothing smelled the same as someone else's, even if they used the same detergent. Because it was really the smell of their house you were picking up. “I’ll take the gin, actually.” "Sure thing…" She pressed her lips together, refusing to say 'Mister Pucey' one more time. Too afraid, or too aware, that she'd sound like a parrot. Mister Pucey that, Mister Pucey this. Shall I spit in your face now or later? She filled a tumbler a third with gin, then topped it off with tonic. She fitted her fingers around the heavy handle of a long, gleaming knife, and then cut the lime into quarters right on the counter - no cutting board. The counter survived, the knife blade imperceptibly dulled against the marble tops. She dropped a piece of lime into the glass and slid it across the counter to him. Since he'd asked for nothing, just gin - and Paije couldn't imagine drinking gin straight. Paije did the same thing over again for herself. Exhaling slowly she turned to face him, leaning her jagged hip bone against the counter for balance, her body curving. Unconvincingly, she smiled, lifted her glass in a salute and then drank. Her eyes closed, the telltale lines around them, between them, smoothing in blissful repose. She enjoyed the slightly harsh taste, the clink of ice against glass, the cool burning sliding down her throat. She inhaled the smell of, the tang of lime and the acrid scent of alcohol. Breathing out she fogged her glass, then let it drop, condensation forming around her fingers. "I think I'm just too tense, and the gargoyle picks up on it. Thinks I'm upset." She enunciated even when she was practically vomiting her words up - trying to get them out fast, in a rush. Like taking off a band aide. |
Er. A post. I feel weird, because my c&p is twice as long as all the others. Or more.
Disdainful Soul - March 16, 2008 02:53 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Near-Human Bimms were the most frequently encountered type of Bimms in the galaxy. While Near-Human Bimms who left their homeworld were typically entertainers or scholars, humanoid Bimms who went offworld were usually traders or businesspeople. Some Bimms became adventurers, whether as scoundrels who somehow worked their way into the circles of nobility, or as artists who followed heroes in order to witness great deeds which they could record in ballads. Entire communities of Bimms were also found in enclaves off Bimmisaari, which were noted for their hospitality.[3] The Bimms also held great respect for the Jedi. Bimms of both species became Jedi during the days of the Galactic Republic.[6] Even after the Republic's fall, tales of Jedi such as Murrtaggh were popular among Bimm bards.[7] Even Bimmisaari's laws prohibiting visitors from carrying weapons were relaxed for visiting Jedi carrying lightsabers.[5] |
SilverHawke - March 16, 2008 03:18 AM (GMT)
<a href="mailto:silverhawke@aztersil.net">Email me</a>
I was editing my contact page >>
I was editing my contact page >>
sunny - March 16, 2008 04:34 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| [center] |
Ahhh... see having to delete and rewrite those stupid tags so that they're in the right place really bugs me so I copy and paste. :)
Little Mouse - March 16, 2008 05:13 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Tony Almeida |
Wow, my recent obsession with 24 shines through. SO MUCH LOVE.
Lima - March 16, 2008 05:20 AM (GMT)
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| ...Yay! So about last week, after much effort, I finally got my rp off the ground! It's name is Gate, and it's ver, ver, pretty. It was created by the ever lovely Tarrin and Liza, and now I'm the admin, well, because. So go check it out! I think I'll post a bit of our "ad", even though that's kind of fussy, just to give you an idea of what it's about. I'm really proud of it and any feedback on it would be lovely. So yeah, thanks. Welcome to Gateway, Iowa, population 11, 653. The year is 2003, and the town is floating along as best it can. The lifeblood of the local economy is in the food-packing factories just outside the town limits. Welcome to Insdown, population 12,178. In a world without electricity, horses provide transportation, and the occupants resemble the elves of human mythology, Insdown is a walled city crammed with refugees fleeing from civil war. Hunger and misery are facts of life when trying to find shelter on its crowded streets. Just outside the walls of Insdown, and on the railroad tracks running through Gateway, a hole exploded into existence. The citizens of both worlds found themselves scrambling for cover, and when the dust cleared, dozens of elves were crawling out of the hole and into Gateway, Iowa. Welcome to Gate. The year is 2007, and the town that was once Gateway is empty of its original inhabitants. Instead of factory workers and schoolchildren, the town is filled with elves and the scientists, anthropologists, linguists, artists, and others who have come to live among them. Just outside the town limits, a fence has been set up. On the other side of the fence wait government troops, ready to send any elf trying to work its way out back to Gate. Political debate rages over what to do with these otherworldly refugees. In the meantime, Gate is populated with elves, fed by aid workers and filled with the conflicts and confusion from both sides of the border. One gang, the Ragmen has sworn to help the elves when the government is too slow. Led by a disillusioned young elf who calls himself Robin Hood in memory of his dead wife, Marion, they seek to do whatever they can…legally or not. Join the ragmen. Become an artist. Perfom experiments on elves. Survive the city. Go to http://z4.invisionfree.com/The_Gate to learn how. *** What d'you think? Is it spiff? or not... |
er, it was an ad/post on sheroescentral...
but at least it was rp-related, right?
Klomonx - March 16, 2008 05:21 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| I shall be a litterateur, at least, all my life; nor would I abandon the hopes which still lead me on for all the gold in Clifornia." |
Part of a letter Edgar Allan Poe wrote to Frederick William Thomas, Feburary 14, 1849.
Emma - March 16, 2008 05:22 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE (Clipsed @ Mar 16 2008, 03:37 PM) | ||
Clearly someone was cool enough to get approved XP |
Wa ha ha that was me! I feel so very loved XD
| QUOTE |
| http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d69/truhottgirl/notmeanttobe/christmasholsnotice.png |
Hehe putting an image on my board to tell all the members that it's Christmas time (we're behind!)
Eiger - March 16, 2008 05:31 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| tree f1 |
'S a command on a WCIII map. Had to copy n' paste it to make a lot of trees.
RomanHk - March 16, 2008 05:32 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| That wasn't aimed at you Emma. |
Something I was going to edit into my post in another thread but decided could go without. :p
SmathNa - March 16, 2008 05:37 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| http://z9.invisionfree.com/No_Rules_Allowed/index.php? |
Crap, does that mean I'm advertising? Meh! It's not a board that's open anyway. It's all for me. <3
chic ambition - March 16, 2008 06:35 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| rush |
i was asking people if they know the meaning of "rusher"... but no one know. x(
Vespa - March 16, 2008 12:56 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| I'll hold on to my freedom |
Copied it from song lyrics to put in a sig request.
---
by the way...
| QUOTE |
| rusher: One who on a FirstPersonShooter attacks and tries to kill the enemy and either get to the obj or eliminating the enemy within the first 30 seconds of the game. Similar to "going commando" or "going rambo" |
That's what it means.
Foolonthehill - March 16, 2008 02:05 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Dalek |
I was reading something HP related...and it said that a Dalek wouldn't be a good patronus. I didn't know what it was...but obviously it's this thing:
TurkFox - March 16, 2008 02:23 PM (GMT)
Terrence[x] [x] [v]
Asher[x] [x] [vii]
---
The canon list on the site I'm on says my canon has two brothers, so I copied them into a Word document to use in the application. :D
Asher[x] [x] [vii]
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The canon list on the site I'm on says my canon has two brothers, so I copied them into a Word document to use in the application. :D
Panda - March 16, 2008 03:10 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| There are two kinds of cynics in this life. Those who become unbearable through their need to crush everyone else's spirit, and those who wear it as an accessory--a touch of realism to the big picture. Leodora is the latter of the two and she finds it hard not to take the glass half empty approach in her lifestyle because when she is handed a brief, it is bound to be a very bad day for someone else. Because of this, she has developed a dark sense of humour and has been known to make jokes in bad taste (although joking in general is not her forte). Her line of work draws a very fine line between, 'hit-man' and, 'assassin' and as such, she cannot always do a job without talking to someone along the way. As a result, her personality has chameleon-type qualities. She can adapt her speech, her manner and her approach to ensure that she is liked, but easily forgotten afterwards. |
I'm doing that thing where I 'preen' and tidy applications today. I was going to update it and now it seems, I'm tidying it up again! I'm a sucker for just hacking out paragraphs or whole sections and holding them on my clipboard to be reinserted later on, or pasting them at the bottom of the page so I can come back to them.
-Goes back to preening-
sarahj - March 16, 2008 04:43 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| &. Not. Meant. To. Be. |
I just came from FoTW xD
sunny - March 16, 2008 04:47 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| http://www.metrolyrics.com/tattoo-lyrics-jordin-sparks.html |
Proof right there that I am addicted to the song Tattoo. :)
sarahj - March 16, 2008 05:32 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAPlmEHo9QQ |
Weird, but awesome.
Klomonx - March 16, 2008 05:52 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Anastasia Colburn |
One of my character's names that I keep forgetting.
Rokkan - March 16, 2008 06:30 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Eldridge, Susan || Irene Macwren |
face claim filling in-ness
pathogenicoma - March 16, 2008 07:40 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Paije stared at him, almost blanching at the stillness that descended over him. It was creepy, to put it simply, to be quite quaint about it. Her gaze slid away, just for a moment, flickering, before she brought her attention back to him. It was a seconds worth of weakness. I'm not as strong as I pretend, I can't look at you like this. And then it was gone, quick as that. She was looking at him again, focused on him. Just as he was on her. She swallowed. Why the hell had she said such a thing? What kind of question was that? Her hands tightened around her glass, holding it pressed tight into her stomach, as if to protect it. “Come along…” Paije raised a brow at that softly implied order. What was he going to do, show her? Then she saw him look at her glass. Heat fanned her cheeks, even as her lips pulled down at the corners. She was not drunk, damn it all. At least not yet, or not very. Her body thrummed when he moved, because he was so close, and it almost brought him closer. Maybe it didn't, but it seemed like it did, and that seemed to be enough. She couldn't stand it. She wanted to smack him, or grab him by his lapels and force him to kiss her. How would he taste beneath the lime and gin? “I’d like to get pissed and you’re making it complicated. Let's go and sit somewhere.” Paije stood up straighter beneath his stare, spine become steel at his words. She'd rarely ever understood another person's right to be angry, especially when she herself was. She threw her head back, a left over habit from her younger days when she'd been so sure she would and could conquer everything, and scowled at him. She missed her old self sometimes. He had no right. Face crumpling into a myriad of frowns, Paije turned away from him. Just her face, her hair falling across her cheek and obscuring her profile. It was a childish, petty gesture, but she just couldn't look at him at the moment. His condescension, his disdain. Where did he get off looking at her like that? Her shoulders twitched, hunching forward as if to ward him off. Another slip back into adolescent angst. Or just another old habit from a life spent chasing everyone away and hiding from them. “And bring the bottle.” "Fine." She turned around, presenting his door lingering person with her back, and began gathering up the bottles. Well, actually, only the gin. Who needed tonic anymore? She held the bottle limply, before lowering her head and pressing her sweating glass to her face. The coolness against her flush skin felt so good. But he was waiting. Her grip tightened on the bottle as she lowered her glass. Best to get going before he thought she needed help walking. Paije turned, avoided looking directly at him while she crossed the kitchen. She pressed by him, her body sliding against his as she maneuvered through the kitchen door, careful not to spill her gin and tonic. She did it because it was necessary. Because she wanted to. It gave her a perverse pleasure, considering that he was always to careful not to touch. Or so she thought, since that one moment in their first meeting had forever been burned into her brain and wouldn't leave her alone. Haunted her every time he was around. "To the sitting room then." She said once she was past him. And back down the hall she went, her steps echoing in the otherwise quiet house. She disappeared to the right, swallowed by the light less room. They'd been there before, the mishmash of near-matching furniture, all of it overstuffed to plush comfort. Oxygenated by potted plants that hadn't been trimmed in who knew how long. It was quiet, and cool. She set down her drink and bottle, instinctively knowing where the center table was, then clicked on a small, muted lamp that only made the room appear to be covered in a paler shadow than darkness. Down she sank into the corner of one of the sofas. Slipping her shoes from her feet, she pushed them beneath the table with her nyloned toes. Leaning forward she scooped up her glass, then made herself comfortable. This required pressing herself into the corner of the corner, leaning her body against the arm and tucking her feet partially beneath her, her body forming a stunted sort of L shape. Italicized the wrong direction. "Will this do for you, Mister Pucey?" |
Gah. Another post. For the same character and the same thread as before. Aren't they luff? N.O.T. - but we are having so much fun. She just asked him a really awkward question he didn't much like. Mehe.
Clipsed - March 16, 2008 09:12 PM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| For all she would evade her duties and rarely adhered to the social norms – at least not where voicing her opinion was concerned – Líadan had always had, and utilized, common sense. Had she not been so far out of her element, so in over her head, she likely would have followed the path lain out for her by common sense and freed her wrist from the hand clasped loosely around it. She may even have just given up and gone back with the guard, to try to minimize the damage she had already caused. The princess couldn’t have said whether it was adrenaline or insanity that was making her head so busy, but even she was prepared to admit that logical thought was far, far from her grasp at that moment. Dumbly, she allowed herself to be pulled along by the stranger, her mind absently wondering how he managed to keep his meal balanced with just one hand in the crowd they were in. This thought was interrupted with another, more pressing one: the food smelled good. The teen was relieved her stomach didn’t echo her thoughts; when it growled, it did so loudly, much to her dismay, earning her strange looks from all those in the vicinity. “As soon as you're out of sight, you should choose somewhere to go, someplace you normally wouldn't have a reason to go to. Preferably someplace…” She listened and nodded as he prattled on about crowds and side-entrances, eyes quickly taking in her surroundings, unsure where he’d taken her. It wasn’t far from their starting point; Lee could vaguely make out a few buildings she knew she’d passed earlier, however the idea of going elsewhere, and undoubtedly getting lost as a result, was not a welcome one. For all her actions suggested otherwise – and she, brain confused, stomach empty, and elbow still stinging, was beginning to wonder why – the dark-haired princess really did intend to make it home at some point, and while anyone could point her in the direction of the palace, she’d rather arrive back in her rooms without trekking through Port Legann and up into Scanra first. The girl’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of professional help. Clearly, the stranger thought her situation was worse than it was, a realization that sent a twinge of guilt through her. “I'm Brenden.” Her guilt had grounded her slightly, making rational thought far easier. ‘[i]Oh, good,’ Lee thought as he introduced himself, ‘now I know his name. Now he’s not “Random Stranger Who Could Very Well Be Leading Me To My Doom,” he’s “Brenden Who May Or May Not Be Leading Me To My Doom. Lovely.’ Looking him over, she doubted he actually meant any harm, however the fact that she’d followed so willingly behind a total stranger was one she would hit herself for later, and was contemplating hitting herself for now. Yes, it was broad daylight, but what sort of teenaged girl followed a strange man through the streets? One who was stupid. Líadan, far from stupid, wasn’t fond of the fact that her actions had been foolish at best, life-threatening at worst. None of this, of course, was voiced allowed, lest Brenden think her mad. “I’m L-Lee,” she replied, catching herself before she would unwittingly reveal her identity. “Er, thanks.” It was hardly the most stimulating conversation she’d engaged in, even just that day, but the girl wasn’t entirely sure what was appropriate under the circumstances – random stranger hides wayward princess from a guard sent to bring her home to a less than pleased queen. She sure as hell hadn’t learned how to handle that from her etiquette instructors. Líadan settled for going inside the – her eyes glanced through the open door – inn. After all, the stranger – ‘Brenden,’ she mentally corrected – was being kind enough to hold the door open. From there, though she wasn’t really sure what she would do, where she would go. The logical idea would have been to ask him for some sort of suggestion – after all, the man would likely know the area far better than she – but logic hadn’t exactly been a dominant factor in her actions thus far. “He’s not still coming, is he?” the girl asked anxiously as she stepped, quicker than necessary, through the door, glancing over Brenden’s shoulder as she did so. “I’m not sure if…” Lee’s words trailed off as eyes found the familiar guard in the crowd, though he seemed not to have noticed her location. With a slight urgency, she grabbed Brenden by the arm, dragging him through the door before slamming it shut, glancing up at him sheepishly as her face began to redden. “Sorry. Saw him coming, panicked.” |
Horray for reasonably uneventful posts. If this isn't proof that my brain has died, I'm not sure what is >.<
samaside - March 17, 2008 07:02 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| We have developed our skills to realize that certain things are not porn. |
It was from an interview with my school's anime club president and his roommate for my international research class.
Radsos - March 17, 2008 07:26 AM (GMT)
| QUOTE |
| Fabian took a seat at a table away from the bar. It had been a long day, really. It was one of those days that everything went horribly wrong. It was one of those days that made you want to crawl under a rock about a thousand times in just one minutes. It was one of those days that most people would probably have called it a day halfway through it. Why? Well, first, he had lost his wand. He had lost his wand. He was scrambling desperately around his place, singing angrily about it - cursing mostly. But he had luckily found it - and arrived at work an hour late because of it. That sounds like I live in a musical. In all honesty, he might as well, seeing as singing was the only way he could communicate well with another person - or else it was slowly teaching them how to learn sign language... and that was how it normally went since even he had to admit that singing to communicate all the time was quite silly and would probably get too many laughs from other people than he wanted to get from people who were almost complete strangers to him. In fact some strangers did stare at me today... A friend of his had stopped by too - a close friend. Therefore he found it easier that, hey, he might as well sing because that was what he normally did, really. It had lifted up his spirits during the middle of the day, too, which was good for in the middle of the day, but quite annoying to feel people staring at him like he was some kind of crazy. Then, the other bartender was sick today too - so he had to handle everything on his own - which was very intense work with only one person. Or, no, it was not intense work per say. It was more like... after about six o'clock it became very intense from the heavy amount of customers filing in for a drink - sometimes asking for alcohol and other times asking for beer - some asked for tea and... speaking of which, he had run out of beer. Of all things, he ran out of beer. Oh, and, consequently, he forgot to bring parchment and a quill - so it was quite hard to communciate with some people as well... But, despite all of this, Fabian was still happy. Fabian still had a warm, glowing smile glued to his face. He still had his wand in his back pocket. Tomorrow would be a better day. Tomorrow he would not get stared at like he was crazy. Tomorrow he would not lose his wand. Tomorrow he would remember to put a quill and a piece of parchment in his pocket. Tomorrow he would have his co-worker by his side. Tomorrow they would not run out of beer (mostly because he had sent an order out as well). Hey, it was not like he could magically conjure beer. Or transfigure beer. That would probably be really crappy beer, in all admittance. It was mostly because conjuring beer was too difficult for him to even fathom trying. Transfiguring something into beer would likely result in a very big mess and, even if it did work, would probably be really horribly tasting beer anyway. Tomorrow would be a good day. He was still breathing at least. He was still alive. Maybe that was just his optimism. It probably was his optimistic mindset shining through - just like the smile was on his tired face. This worn, tired face that still wore a smile despite everything that happened around him - or anything that happened to him either. Fabian wondered after a moment - maybe he should go off to a gambling circle. It would take his mind off of everything. But he'd probably end up betting and gambling away every single thing he owned by how this day had went. Sure, he was optimistic, but his mindset was still rattled from it enough to go off and gamble the clothes off his back - he'd done that too, once. It was quite easy to do - especially when drunk. The thought of gambling made his mind wander over to all of the things that he had gambled over the years. The clothes on his back... several times. His first born child (frankly, that was after he found out that he was gay. But the other person did not know that.). All of the money he had on hand. He even gambled off his services once. As in, the person could make him do whatever they wanted him to do for the space of a day or so. It was something like a gamble with a good friend of his in seventh year - so it wasn't like he got hurt and he wasn't even drunk at the time... if he was drunk that time than, hell, he must have been really drunk and would not remember anything about it at all, really. Nothing at all. What had he been forced to do? Let's see... the can-can, kill a rather small animal (which made him cry), kiss a girl, carry around the guy's books for the entire day, have to drink some really sour milk, break into a teacher's office... and one more thing he could not remember right now. It was really just the silliest day he had ever had on his life. The silliest, maybe even one of the best days to ever reflect upon. It made his smile grow slightly wider now as he sat there with his cup of tea. He took a sip of it before standing once more and beginning to walk out to the door. Without moments of beginning to walk, his foot had caught on a chair and he toppled over, the chair lying uncomfortably under his body. His cup or hot tea flew from his hand and into the air. Fabian let out a low groan. His glasses had slid half off of his face. As he disentangled himself from the chair, and pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Clumsiness will be your death. He thought, almost cursing out loud. Fabian had subconsciously heard an outcry from someone - had the tea hit them? Looking up, he saw what looked to be a red-haired young woman with what looked to be a stain on her hand. Fabian let out a yelp and bolted up off the ground to the bar, grabbing a wet towel from the other bartender's hand, and running back over to the girl. Ohh... great... I should have just left for home as soon as possible, shouldn't I have? The thought ran through his mind as he half-stumbled, half-jogged to the girl and put the towel on her arm, not uttering a word now, though. |
That's 1000 words... That's 1000 words???
Well, you know what, whatever. Fabian should stop being so damn clumsy all the time (even if it is his middle name...)
SpazzyMal - March 17, 2008 08:05 AM (GMT)
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Hahaa, I was working on a plot page. Pain in the butt.
sarahj - March 17, 2008 10:00 AM (GMT)
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| Name: Age: Why do you want to be a mod of this board: (Write something here that can convince us to take you as a new moderator, why should we choose you above others?) What are the forums you own/are staff on: (post links to your own forums in here) General Activity on RPG-D?: Do you have msn?: |
...okay, so there's a possibility that I'm on this site way too much.
Vespa - March 17, 2008 12:48 PM (GMT)
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| http://z15.invisionfree.com/xx_pretty_stranger/index.php?showtopic=814&st=0&#entry1489547 |
a link to a thread... I had to copy it for some reason.
Rhi-Rhi - March 17, 2008 04:11 PM (GMT)
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| He wasn't sure if Lune would accept his rather clumsy apology-that-wasn't-quite-an-apology, given that he didn't actually say the words "I'm sorry." He didn't know how deeply he'd insulted Lune, or if it was a forgiveable offense to begin with. Another person may have been less stressed about this situation because hey, friends fought all the time and made up, right? Not Kyran. He hadn't known enough people in his lifetime that he could actually call "friends" and not just "acquaintances" and, fine, so maybe under all the macho (in his own mind) incubus-ness there was a guy that had abandonment issues. He wouldn't really blame Lune for telling him to piss off. He wasn't really good for anything out here, anyway. He wasn't rugged like Lune, he was used to his luxeries, used to the city. He was probably just slowing him down already, and how did he show his gratitude for getting to tag along? He called Lune a dog and told him his place was on all fours. Go him. Kyran raised his eyes when Lune finally turned around and said his name--and saw then that Lune was approaching, and with a towel, too. Maybe to smother him. That was his last thought before he had that towel wrapped around him, and he only had time for a surprised yelp before he was scooped up into Lune's arms. Bridal style. What the--?! He flailed involuntarily as he was carried away, feeling utterly ridiculous, but soon enough Lune sat down on the log with Kyran--who gave Lune a grumpy, pouty look that wasn't all that effective with his hair dripping and flattened around his face, wet bangs covering an eye, water dripping off his chin, and his pointed ears sticking out. He sure wasn't the picture of a sexy naked half incubus right then and there, draped over the werewolf's lap, which probably looked weird in and of itself since there was only a two inch height difference between them. Bah. Damned werewolf strength... His mood quickly changed when Lune began to dry him off, and he blinked several times at that and watched Lune. Why did he suddenly feel like he was...being taken care of? And hell, why was Lune doing this?! He was the one that had been an asshole! ...Not that he was complaining, because apparently Lune wasn't going to call him a pussy after all, and that drying off business felt rather good. A soft purr rumbled in his throat as Lune dried off his chest, and his body relaxed fully as he started working his way up his legs and towards his hips and-- Lune stopped, and Kyran snapped back to reality-land, opening eyes he didn't remember closing. Gerk. Right. Serious discussion. They'd been having a serious discussion. He shot Lune a tight smile at the "hot and bothered" comment, then took the towel from Lune and began to dry his hair with it. Focus, Kyran, focus. But Lune should know better than to plop a naked incubus in his lap, feel him up a bit, and then expect him to actually pay attention and remember that they were having a serious discussion. It was difficult to remember that you'd been an ass and had said Very Bad Things, and that you were now being forgiven for it, when the forgiver was kissing and licking your shoulder. And you were still naked, of course. Kyran shivered though not from the cold, crossed his legs, and cleared his throat. Damn Lune, damn Lune, damn Lune. He rolled his shoulders once. "Uhh...yeah. Ehm. Won't call you that again, no worries!" he said with a grin, shifting a little in Lune's lap. "I really didn't mean it and...you know how I am in the mornings. Or you do now. I've been told I can be a beast." Awkward, awkward! This wouldn't have been awkward if he wasn't trying so hard not to get "hot and bothered", but fuck, he was a bloody half incubus! It didn't take much! And right now it was annoying! He just about died when Lune mentioned "moving to keep warm". Cue Kyran's mind diving straight into the gutter and rolling around in it for good measure. He opened his mouth to answer the question, then promptly slammed it shut when he just felt the sexual innuendo on the tip of his tongue. Think before speaking, think before speaking, don't screw this up... He took a deep breath and opened his mouth again. "Maybe we should...just skip breakfast and eat a bit later. Get, uh...moving for now. As in walking." No mentioning "quickies" in response to Lune saying he was in a hurry. "I mean, unless you're hungry, in which case go ahead and eat me. Meat. I mean meat. Go ahead and eat meat. Meat that is...cow...or lamb...something...whatever you packed...nngh." Slapping a hand to his forehead, he shook his head and groaned. "Let's just...skip breakfast. Where're my clothes? Oh right...heh...right there." With a sheepish smile Lune's way, he gave the werewolf a quick hug about the middle--at least, it was supposed to be a quick "thank you for forgiving me and sorry for being an ass" hug, though it turned into a longer one and he somehow ended up planting a soft kiss and nibble along the side of Lune's neck before he remembered to pry himself away. Straightening and pushing damp hair out of his face, he stood up, snatched up his clothes, and started to dress. Right. Forest. Icky bug-ridden forest. Think about that, Kyran! That was enough to dampen his excitement. |
Same character from my other post. Ah, my poor dorky, spoiled, hormone-ravaged half-incubus. Lune is a brave man for putting up with him. xD
Sunday - March 17, 2008 04:27 PM (GMT)
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| Equestrian |
I was telling her how much I loved her Balto signature XD