Well, I wanted to run a one-shot game a la MD Geist, Genocyber, and the incredibly violent bootleg stuff I can't even begin to name...
Put this in your own words... wait - Kate-like words and I'll consider it even though I'm FUCKING TIRED. *throws a fit*
Katelyn Member
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I'm down with whatever you plan to do.
Tell me what you MA's are in. I totally understand this - I'm emotionally exhausted, but physically and spiritually I'm pulling through.
Have you read anything by James Rubart?
What are you plans for posing in Bane's gladiator story?
Tell me what you MA's are in. I totally understand this - I'm emotionally exhausted, but physically and spiritually I'm pulling through.
Have you read anything by James Rubart?
What are you plans for posing in Bane's gladiator story?
Beautiful job on your post. Great picture too. I enjoyed that. :)
That is ridiculous. Praise God for what you do because I could not do it. Bravo to you, my new friend.
No rush, handsome.
Sleep evaded her that night, dreams of being back in school in her adolescence stamped across her consciousness in the dark. She remembered very little other than the echo of lust, a male at the school that she found dreamy. The soft light of early morning poured through her window and she laid in bed a few extra minutes, unwilling to move from the warmth of her covers just yet. The tendrils of her dream pushed around her sleepiness as she tried to bring herself from the false reality. She'd never really taken much time to think about what it might be like to go on a date or be with a male in a relationship, but the dream left a bit of an inquiry on her lips. She prayed it away quickly, the host of host removing her thoughts and bringing in the memorization of a prayer from Psalms to push her along that morning.
A soft cotton dress with a long-sleeve jacket and flat heeled shoes would do perfectly. She wrapped up in her winter coat and stopped by the kitchen to drink a quick glass of juice, her father's sermon notes sitting by the coffee pot. It wasn't a wonder that he hadn't torn the church apart looking for them. They only had one service on Sunday mornings, the town dwindling down to too few people to keep up with more than one gathering. She looked at the clock on the wall and realized they still had forty-five minutes until the first soul would arrive. There was time to mingle and relax but she needed to get her father his notes and help settle his spirit.
Walking out into the freezing morning's snow was a bit wakening and yet chilled her to the bone. She pulled her coat around her tighter, her fingers aching as they grasped tightly onto the sermon notes. Running across the small snow covered path she sang a song about forgiveness and light, her voice carrying through the small yard and bringing her some semblance of peace as the town lay in an eerie silence. Two large black crows sat on top of the church, their cries loud and mocking as if throwing insults at her that she could not understand.
She ignored it all and slipped into the warmth of the church, the light almost golden and the picture all over the walls reminding her what being in the presence of goodness felt like. She walked toward her father's small office, the sound of him tearing it up causing her to laugh. She opened the door to find him on his knees searching under his desk.
"Looking for something, father?" She leaned against the door frame as he moved back and hit his head, a curse on the edge of his tongue but not jumping off just yet. She gasped and rushed forward, kneeling to help him and offer him the notes.
"Oh thank God..." He muttered and grabbed them, a kind smile on his face. "What on earth would I do without you pumpkin?"
She laughed and stood back up, "I honestly have no idea."
A soft cotton dress with a long-sleeve jacket and flat heeled shoes would do perfectly. She wrapped up in her winter coat and stopped by the kitchen to drink a quick glass of juice, her father's sermon notes sitting by the coffee pot. It wasn't a wonder that he hadn't torn the church apart looking for them. They only had one service on Sunday mornings, the town dwindling down to too few people to keep up with more than one gathering. She looked at the clock on the wall and realized they still had forty-five minutes until the first soul would arrive. There was time to mingle and relax but she needed to get her father his notes and help settle his spirit.
Walking out into the freezing morning's snow was a bit wakening and yet chilled her to the bone. She pulled her coat around her tighter, her fingers aching as they grasped tightly onto the sermon notes. Running across the small snow covered path she sang a song about forgiveness and light, her voice carrying through the small yard and bringing her some semblance of peace as the town lay in an eerie silence. Two large black crows sat on top of the church, their cries loud and mocking as if throwing insults at her that she could not understand.
She ignored it all and slipped into the warmth of the church, the light almost golden and the picture all over the walls reminding her what being in the presence of goodness felt like. She walked toward her father's small office, the sound of him tearing it up causing her to laugh. She opened the door to find him on his knees searching under his desk.
"Looking for something, father?" She leaned against the door frame as he moved back and hit his head, a curse on the edge of his tongue but not jumping off just yet. She gasped and rushed forward, kneeling to help him and offer him the notes.
"Oh thank God..." He muttered and grabbed them, a kind smile on his face. "What on earth would I do without you pumpkin?"
She laughed and stood back up, "I honestly have no idea."
I'm sooo crazy tired of this winter. Thank you for your kindness. Makes it easier to be creative. :)
That would be fun. I'm so far behind on my other stories that it will have to be later this week if that's okay?
:) Eventually it will be the PhD and then I can rest... yeah right. *smiles*
:) Eventually it will be the PhD and then I can rest... yeah right. *smiles*
The cool air around her gave her no reprieve as she bent over in the grass, the wetness touching her fingers and at one time promising to bring her peace. That time had since passed and she was stuck in the position of a servant, her mind locked in servitude to her hunger. She growled at the sound of someone approaching, Vincent lowering himself to the ground beside her. The colors of his skin and clothing faded into the night as her vision started to shift, shadows moving all around her in an effort to push her past the remaining drops of her humanity and into the monster should would soon become.
His words were more a muted whisper and yet she heard the vibrations enough to understand what he said. She'd not be able to live with herself if she attacked a room full of humans, slaughtering the creatures she once gave up her life to fight for. She leaned her head against his chest, sighing out and gripping his arm tightly to try to keep a grip on reality. He moved them back through the house and she tried to thank him, but her stomach felt as if it were lit up and something had grown from the flames, its claws trying desperately to rip it's way from her core.
He spoke and she heard him not, the smell of his blood - rich, ancient, desire and lust - caused her to leap toward him, her teeth growing and sinking deep into the meat of his wrist as she drew in long gulps, her eyes moving up to this face as if to watch him in carnal satisfaction. He would be the death of her and yet for the moment all she felt was alive. She pulled back violently and growled one word.
"More."
His words were more a muted whisper and yet she heard the vibrations enough to understand what he said. She'd not be able to live with herself if she attacked a room full of humans, slaughtering the creatures she once gave up her life to fight for. She leaned her head against his chest, sighing out and gripping his arm tightly to try to keep a grip on reality. He moved them back through the house and she tried to thank him, but her stomach felt as if it were lit up and something had grown from the flames, its claws trying desperately to rip it's way from her core.
He spoke and she heard him not, the smell of his blood - rich, ancient, desire and lust - caused her to leap toward him, her teeth growing and sinking deep into the meat of his wrist as she drew in long gulps, her eyes moving up to this face as if to watch him in carnal satisfaction. He would be the death of her and yet for the moment all she felt was alive. She pulled back violently and growled one word.
"More."
I just got a headache reading that. I love you, but no... I'm not doing any more games that I don't understand. At my maximum bull-shit capacity. :)
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