@Bozo You're lurking ominously and that scares me.
Narcotic Dollie Member
Weasel Wrangler
STATUS: I have friends over this weekend so expect slow replies until Monday! 6 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 972 (0.28 / day)
- VMs: 3
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Username history
- Narcotic Dollie 10 yrs ago
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Bozo,
Apollosarcher
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
I have friends over this weekend so expect slow replies until Monday!
6 yrs ago
I have been resurrected!
1
like
9 yrs ago
I have decided today that I am a potato.
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likes
Bio
I'm a twenty eight year old American girl who loves a good cupcake!
Here's a link to my interest check and character bank. Shoot me a PM if anything tickles your fancy!
Here's a link to my interest check and character bank. Shoot me a PM if anything tickles your fancy!
Most Recent Posts
This whole exchange had me cackling like a mad woman!!! Ryoki and Yutaro have to be together, just so I can always have plenty of sexy banter to read. :D
Lilith watches as the door unlocks without a key, which is curious, but she’s got other things to worry about at the moment. Like being led into a creepy old warehouse where she will almost certainly meet her demise at the hands of this black mask assassin. “In,” the stranger commands, his voice hard as he gestures towards the door with his dagger, the blade gleaming angrily in the moonlight. The pale girl doesn’t want to but she has little choice in the matter, so she gives him a brisk nod before crossing the threshold into the building. It’s so dark that Lilith can’t make out much at all and stumbles some as the man shepherds her up the stairs and into what looks like an office from the outside.
When they get there though, it looks more like a mass bedroom, the floor littered with ancient looking mattresses and other decrepit furniture. It reminds her a little of her home back in Semarta, where her and her mother share a mattress in the corner of the livening room. The masked man cuts her musings short when he rights a fallen chair and drags it to the middle of the room, before jerking his knife between her and the chair to signal that he wants her to sit. His movements are sudden and violent, all the grace from earlier in the evening nowhere to be found. ’I’ve made him mad,’ Lilith realizes as she walks over to the chair and sits down, the corners of her mouth quirking up a little despite her dire circumstances. ’Good. Serves him right for murdering people.’
“Why have you brought me all the way out here, Black Mask?” Lilith asks him, frustrated when she realizes that she has been avoiding looking directly at him. It was hard to ignore years of lectures that told her that it was inappropriate for a lady to look directly at a man unless directed, but the redhead forces herself to turn her gaze back towards him. “Why not just kill me back in my room, or in that alleyway?” she asks, her head tilting slightly as genuine curiosity colors her voice.
When they get there though, it looks more like a mass bedroom, the floor littered with ancient looking mattresses and other decrepit furniture. It reminds her a little of her home back in Semarta, where her and her mother share a mattress in the corner of the livening room. The masked man cuts her musings short when he rights a fallen chair and drags it to the middle of the room, before jerking his knife between her and the chair to signal that he wants her to sit. His movements are sudden and violent, all the grace from earlier in the evening nowhere to be found. ’I’ve made him mad,’ Lilith realizes as she walks over to the chair and sits down, the corners of her mouth quirking up a little despite her dire circumstances. ’Good. Serves him right for murdering people.’
“Why have you brought me all the way out here, Black Mask?” Lilith asks him, frustrated when she realizes that she has been avoiding looking directly at him. It was hard to ignore years of lectures that told her that it was inappropriate for a lady to look directly at a man unless directed, but the redhead forces herself to turn her gaze back towards him. “Why not just kill me back in my room, or in that alleyway?” she asks, her head tilting slightly as genuine curiosity colors her voice.
The room was pitch black. The clouds lingered from the morning's rain. Only the artificial light from the laptop illuminated Amaya's hunched over body. Rachel was out with some friends, most likely Christmas shopping.
Oh my sweet baby Jesus, you can't open a post like this Doom, I thought the Weatherman had done got Amaya!!! D:
Kyle keeps her hand clutched tight in his as they investigate the apartment, turning on every single light they came across (even the ones in the closets!) and making sure all entrances were appropriately locked. Once the pair was sure the homestead was secured the American pulled them back into the living room and tells her, "So I think we're safe for now...I think we both need something to drink." The tall man then goes into his kitchen to fetch two different bottles of alcohol and Nori sits back down on the couch, flipping through redflix and turning on SpongeTod TriangleShirt, muting the volume so they have something ridiculous going on in the background to take their mind off things.
Kyle comes back and deposits the booze on the table before pulling out…an incense burner? Nori can’t help but giggle as he lights a stick and immediately shoots him an apologetic look so he knows she isn’t making fun of him. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, that just reminds me of my dad. He says only stoners burn incense. Something about it covering the smell of ‘hippie lettuce’? I’ll have to tell him I met someone who can prove him wrong the next time he calls,” she tells him with a rueful grin, accepting the whisky bottle that he presses into her hands and clinking it with his before taking a small sip. It burns on the way down, which Nori has always found weirdly calming, but she doesn’t want to drink too much. After all she was a girl, so if she did have to flee an axe murderer she already had increased odds of tripping at least once during the chase without adding alcohol on top of it.
“Oh Jesus!” Nori squeaked, looking down at herself and suddenly realizing that she had far too much skin showing to dissuade an attack from a serial killer. It was a plain white tank top and a pair of black skinny jeans, which was pretty tame by her normal standards, but it was probably just sexy enough to send the Weatherman into a rampage. “I’ve gotta get more clothes on,” she tells Kyle, like that somehow explains everything, before jumping up and bolting to into his room, where she’d left her duffel bag. Sifting through its contents she finds her oversized, shapless, worn-out, ‘My cat must be my senpai,’ sweatshirt and pulls it on quickly. “Definitely not too sexy now,” the DJ says proudly as she surveys herself, before her golden gaze catches sight of something out of place on the bed.
Nori draws her eyebrows together as she crosses over to it, running her hand over the fabric of a violet raincoat. “…Maybe it’s his sister's?” she says to herself, pulling her hand back and biting at her lip. It’s a little weird to see a girl’s jacket on Kyle’s bed, but Nori tries not to jump to any conclusions and heads back into the living room, where Kyle is still sitting on the couch. “I’m gonna get some water,” the blonde tells him, strolling into the kitchen and tugging open the refrigerator to find a “Happy Anniversary” cake on the top shelf.
Nori blinks once. Then again.
The cake is still there.
“Kyle,” Nori says evenly, shutting the fridge and staring at the closed door, her jaw flexing a little as she clenches her teeth. “You aren’t married, are you?
@BeastofDestiny
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Kyle comes back and deposits the booze on the table before pulling out…an incense burner? Nori can’t help but giggle as he lights a stick and immediately shoots him an apologetic look so he knows she isn’t making fun of him. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, that just reminds me of my dad. He says only stoners burn incense. Something about it covering the smell of ‘hippie lettuce’? I’ll have to tell him I met someone who can prove him wrong the next time he calls,” she tells him with a rueful grin, accepting the whisky bottle that he presses into her hands and clinking it with his before taking a small sip. It burns on the way down, which Nori has always found weirdly calming, but she doesn’t want to drink too much. After all she was a girl, so if she did have to flee an axe murderer she already had increased odds of tripping at least once during the chase without adding alcohol on top of it.
“Oh Jesus!” Nori squeaked, looking down at herself and suddenly realizing that she had far too much skin showing to dissuade an attack from a serial killer. It was a plain white tank top and a pair of black skinny jeans, which was pretty tame by her normal standards, but it was probably just sexy enough to send the Weatherman into a rampage. “I’ve gotta get more clothes on,” she tells Kyle, like that somehow explains everything, before jumping up and bolting to into his room, where she’d left her duffel bag. Sifting through its contents she finds her oversized, shapless, worn-out, ‘My cat must be my senpai,’ sweatshirt and pulls it on quickly. “Definitely not too sexy now,” the DJ says proudly as she surveys herself, before her golden gaze catches sight of something out of place on the bed.
Nori draws her eyebrows together as she crosses over to it, running her hand over the fabric of a violet raincoat. “…Maybe it’s his sister's?” she says to herself, pulling her hand back and biting at her lip. It’s a little weird to see a girl’s jacket on Kyle’s bed, but Nori tries not to jump to any conclusions and heads back into the living room, where Kyle is still sitting on the couch. “I’m gonna get some water,” the blonde tells him, strolling into the kitchen and tugging open the refrigerator to find a “Happy Anniversary” cake on the top shelf.
Nori blinks once. Then again.
The cake is still there.
“Kyle,” Nori says evenly, shutting the fridge and staring at the closed door, her jaw flexing a little as she clenches her teeth. “You aren’t married, are you?
@BeastofDestiny
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Take your time, Karos. ^.^
He stared out at the skyline of Shine City.
Alessandra would have loved it.
It would be a quiet night.
Ginger, no! D: Sad Shou murders my heart! STAHP IT!
Okay, I was just checking. If you ever need to take a brief hiatus or something to handle rl stuff, just let me know. I promise I'll always understand! I hope your dad gets better soon!
....and curious Naya is inappropriate. I'd say you're welcome, but there is a huge chance she just freaked Amon out. :P
Naya takes his hand to steady herself and puts her foot in the stirrup as instructed and swings a leg over with little grace, but at least she doesn’t make a total fool of herself and do something like face plant. Once she’s on top of Ormuzhd she hesitantly goes to wrap her arms around his torso, stopping when she feels the roughness of his belly under the robes. “Is that a spell?” she questions, before letting her curiosity get the better of her and briskly sticking an arm through the billowing sleeve of his robe, reaching in to palpate his chest and stomach.
Naya had never been this close to a man before, but she had been certain that they had at least the same sort of skin, didn’t they? Instead of feeling flesh, this warlock was covered in some sort of metal, looped together like tiny chains. “Why are you wearing a fence, my friend?” the brunette asks, her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she felt around until she found the neck opening of this unusual under shirt. Dipping her hand beneath this garment as well, she finally found his skin and patted at it searchingly.
“Are there so few warlocks in your city that you have to hide yourself from the witches, so they don’t force themselves on you?” She continues, her tongue peeking out of her mouth in concentration. Amon was firm and muscled everywhere and Naya pinched at his belly, humming appraising when she found very little fat there. “Or are you ashamed of yourself? There is no need to feel embarrassed, blood of my blood, you have excellent skin,” she tells him, patting at his stomach reassuringly.
Naya had never been this close to a man before, but she had been certain that they had at least the same sort of skin, didn’t they? Instead of feeling flesh, this warlock was covered in some sort of metal, looped together like tiny chains. “Why are you wearing a fence, my friend?” the brunette asks, her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she felt around until she found the neck opening of this unusual under shirt. Dipping her hand beneath this garment as well, she finally found his skin and patted at it searchingly.
“Are there so few warlocks in your city that you have to hide yourself from the witches, so they don’t force themselves on you?” She continues, her tongue peeking out of her mouth in concentration. Amon was firm and muscled everywhere and Naya pinched at his belly, humming appraising when she found very little fat there. “Or are you ashamed of yourself? There is no need to feel embarrassed, blood of my blood, you have excellent skin,” she tells him, patting at his stomach reassuringly.
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