 04:03:16 Ceci / (Call me) AL -Click-
Can I whine about this one for a moment? |
04:01:29 Angel Cats🐈| I am also hoping that, for you, Iris |
04:01:21 Kelan/Rain| LOL well if that's all then I guarantee if he's not happy with an apology email he's not worth worrying about. Professors have to deal with arrogant students and staff and parents ALL the time |
04:00:35 whisper/lynx iris
i pray it gets better soon <3 |
04:00:05 Void Malign| ...Speaking of work e-mails, there's several I'm straight up ignoring right now lol |
03:59:51 Iris| Like we talking i plastered "bitch" on my forehead for the rest of the semester |
03:59:24 Iris Rain
im so not saying it just know i fucked up and it probably came off as REALLY arrogant |
03:58:42 Iris lynx
this hits way harder though because I've pretty much been cooped up in my room for 4 years looking for an entry level job I can walk to without a car x-x I have no friends and this was the first conversation ive had in like 4 years |
03:58:32 Kelan/Rain| Also on the him not getting back to you, as a working adult, sometimes emails just sit in my inbox, especially those that I think aren't super time pressed |
03:57:14 Kelan/Rain| ... okay now I'm curious if he could take it personally what was the question you asked? |
03:56:45 🎀 Diva| give it a day or two, he also might need a minute |
03:56:44 whisper/lynx iris
everyone makes mistakes in life. everyone you know has definitely made many mistakes, probably maybe even like the one you made. you'll be fine, because here is everyone else, living life as if nothing happened |
03:56:32 Void Malign| It's school, people are there to learn. Dumb questions are going to be asked and honestly, it's not something that needs or should be apologized over. |
03:56:00 Iris Diva
I did but my worry is that in his comment he took what I said personally or something and I already did my apology email but he hasnt gotten back to me |
03:55:44 Kelan/Rain| I mean, I don't know if it's an American university or if your curriculum is based off having good class participation, but believe me, you aren't the first student they've had ask a dumb question, and you won't be the last. I had my fair share of dumb questions when I was going through college |
03:55:00 Iris| myth minecraft aint strong enough this gave me full body stinging tingles like when you think something big and heavy is gonna hit you tingles |
03:54:27 🎀 Diva| i totally agree on it, you said something - its far worse you hide and whine about it. Own it instead and move forward, the best is always to pick up your phone or send an email and explain yourself, can avoid a lot of shit that way |
03:54:25 Angel Cats🐈| Try not to worry about it too much, please |
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Rowan felt a deep groan stir within him as he glanced at Jones, who had deemed their fresh groceries insufficient. Great, he thought, as he stood there in a worn black sweatshirt and sweatpants, the cold metal of his dog tags resting coolly against his bare skin. A dark hunger churned inside him, a primal urge urging him to unleash chaos upon his teammates right then and there. He pushed the thought aside with a frustrated huff. In that moment, blood was all he craved, and his mind was already made up—he'd find a victim later, once he could slip away from the tight-knit group. As they moved together, laughter and chatter erupted all around him, his so-called 'friends' forming a loud barrier that pressed in on him from all sides. The raucous energy of their camaraderie only stoked his anxiety, reinforcing the all-too-familiar stereotype of boisterous Americans. With a resigned sigh, he trudged along, his heart heavy as their collective footsteps led them to a bustling restaurant. Seizing the opportunity, he muttered something about needing to use the restroom. The moment felt liberating as he broke free from their boisterous chatter, his feet carrying him away to explore the small shopping center. The place was a hidden gem, alive with beauty; vibrant flowerbeds adorned the pathways, vibrant petals mingling in a dazzling display of color. Decent-sized decorative trees dotted the landscape, their leaves whispering in the gentle breeze. Rowan took a moment to soak it all in, the natural beauty offering a brief reprieve from the turmoil swirling inside him.He meandered through the narrow cobblestone streets, showing little interest in the vibrant storefronts that lined either side. The colorful awnings and enticing displays of goods barely registered in his mind as he moved along, his focus instead drawn to the subtle vulnerabilities of the environment around him. Shadows hung heavy in the corners, the dimly lit alleyways seemed to whisper secrets known only to the night, and every flicker of movement caught his sharp gaze. His keen, observant eyes swept over the throngs of people bustling around him, each face a story written in the lines of their expressions. Some appeared achingly lonely, solitary figures lost in thought, while others radiated the warmth of family connections—a shared laughter here, a gentle touch there, vibrant with moments that spoke of belonging. As he wandered, wrapped in his own contemplations, he was caught off guard when he inadvertently collided with a woman. The unexpected jolt of contact shook him from his reverie, and he felt the world pulsate back into focus around him. "Sorry," he murmured, a hint of a rural Midwestern accent creeping into his voice. It was slightly rough, tinged with the warmth of heartfelt apology. For a brief moment, he allowed his gaze to flicker up to meet hers, but the sight of her sent an unexpected surge of hunger coursing through him. It was an instinctual reaction, visceral and powerful, causing his fangs to scrape uncomfortably against his gums, pushing against his lips until they protruded visibly. Panic coursed through him, and he quickly diverted his eyes, stepping aside in a flustered attempt to escape the overwhelming impulse that engulfed him, desperately trying to regain his composure in the face of such an unforeseen temptation. |
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Edited at November 5, 2024 02:47 PM by 4 Little Pines Ranch
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As I walked along, the shops familair, the hustle and bustle of people closed in, especially on the Sunday rush. I spot the grocery shop, as I approach an all familiar buzz outlined my pocket. 20% battery Unknown Number - "Files 136678, Download Now. Detective Drake, here are the files you asked for." Busy in my distraction, I collided with a solid object, or what I thought was a solid object, I looked up to see the most beauitful man I'd ever seen in my life. His composure threw me off. "Sorry... I..." I glanced him up and down. American, I thought. The strain of his composure and facial features looked all too familiar. "I'm sorry, I was the one that wasn't paying attention to where I was going" I say softly. I looked at his blue eyes, like a bottomless lake on a clear winter's day. I walk around him, taking him in. "I.... I must get going. Shops close soon" the side of my mouth tugs upwards gently. "Sorry again" I say as I turn back, shoving my phone in my pocket and heading towards the grocery shop. I head in, my head a daze, as my mind tries to catch up with what just happened. I huff a small laugh to myself before wandering the aisles looking for something to eat. I very quickly pay before leaving, as the files I'd received start to take my full attention. |
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Rowan let out an exasperated huff, his breath billowing out into the cool evening air as he observed the woman deftly weaving through the bustling crowd. Each step she took seemed deliberate, her essence lingering in his mind even as she gradually faded into the tapestry of people surrounding her. He continued to roam the dimly lit streets, the streetlamps casting long shadows that danced along the cobblestones beneath his feet. A deep sense of intrigue coursed through him, electrifying his senses. There was an inexplicable quality to her; she exuded an aura of both self-absorption and an acute awareness of his gaze, their paths intersecting momentarily in a conversation that remained unspoken. This fascination stirred a flurry of thoughts within him as he pondered her demeanor—her graceful movements, the way her hair caught the light as she turned, and the subtle confidence radiating from her. Rowan found himself captivated; she was undeniably intriguing, and her assurance hinted at a depth that piqued his curiosity. In the back of his mind, a flicker of consideration emerged—if fate had other plans, and he couldn’t seize his primary target, perhaps she could serve as a tantalizing, unexpected backup. As he meandered into a quaint bar nestled discreetly in an alley, the neon sign above flickered erratically, casting a warm, inviting glow against the aged brick walls. Though it was still daylight, the ambiance felt like an invitation to a different world—a place where secrets were exchanged, and shadows thrived. Upon entering, he was enveloped by a thick atmosphere rich with the murmur of hushed conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the faint scent of aged whiskey and tobacco. It was the perfect cover for his intentions. Despite its unfamiliarity, a thrill pulsed through him as he navigated the bar's intimate space, each half-lit corner teeming with potential. His pulse quickened at the thought of the possibilities that lay ahead; the air buzzed with anticipation, a palpable electric charge that ignited his senses. With a self-satisfied smile curling at the corners of his lips, he resolved to delve deeper into the shadows, eager to uncover what— or who— awaited him within the dimly lit haven. Rowan settled into the worn leather stool, its surface cracked and faded from years of use, a comforting reminder of countless evenings spent in this quaint bar. The subtle creaking of the old wood beneath him echoed in the stillness, a familiar sound that enveloped him like an old friend. He raised his hand, gesturing to the bartender with a deliberate motion, his voice low and steady—a rich timbre that conveyed authority as he ordered a glass of the finest amber whiskey available. As the bartender poured the whiskey, his movement slow and deliberate, Rowan observed the way the light danced through the liquid, transforming it into a glowing elixir. He took a measured sip, letting the warmth spread through his chest, igniting a pleasant heat that contrasted with the cool, dim atmosphere surrounding him. Despite the enticing aroma of the whiskey wafting up to him, his gaze hardly lingered on the drink; it was merely a prop in his intricate game. Instead, his eyes wandered around the bar, taking in the tapestry of life woven within its dimly lit confines. The low, intimate hum of conversations rose and fell like a gentle tide, punctuated by bursts of laughter that floated through the air, swirling around him like tendrils of smoke from the flickering candles lighting the room. Each patron was a potential target in his mind—a piece on an elaborate chessboard—and he meticulously calculated his next move with the precision of a seasoned strategist. The bartender, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a friendly disposition, moved behind the counter with practiced ease, expertly mixing drinks and engaging in light banter with regulars. For a moment, Rowan's gaze caught on the bartender, appreciating the way he effortlessly navigated the room before his attention flicked back to the crowd. Everywhere he looked, there were opportunities; each laugh, each casual glance held the potential for something more. Rowan remained always alert, always assessing, with the acute awareness of a predator in a world full of prey. The tension in the dimly lit bar hung thick in the air, and It wasn't long before Rowan's intended target made his way through the dimly lit bar, weaving effortlessly between clusters of patrons lost in conversation. A young man in his twenties approached, exuding an air of confidence that radiated from him like warmth on a chilly evening. He had tousled dark hair that framed a friendly face, and his bright blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief as he drew nearer. “Hello there,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting, a warm smile blooming across his lips as he settled onto the stool next to Rowan. The rich timbre of his British accent rolled off his tongue like a smooth melody, carrying a comforting cadence that reminded Rowan of distant shores and the charm of foreign lands. It felt like a balm, a soothing reminder that he was no longer amidst the familiar chaos of America, but rather enveloped in a world brimming with cultural richness and hidden stories. The ambiance of the bar, alive with the soft murmur of chatter and the gentle clinking of glasses, began to fade into the background as Rowan turned to face this unexpected companion. The low light danced across the polished wooden bar top, highlighting the warmth in the young man’s demeanor, which felt like an invitation to delve deeper into conversation. Rowan could feel the weight of his own intentions mingling with a sudden urge to engage, to explore this intriguing encounter that had unfolded so unexpectedly. |
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I got home, with a pizza tucked under my arm. The sun fading away into darkness as long shadows cast across the wooden floor. I chuck the pizza in the oven as I turned to sit at my desk and eye the cork board. My mind flashes to the gentleman earlier today but I shake my head. I open my laptop and click on the files that appeared in my folder after downloading them from my phone. I chuck my phone on the side. "What a piece of junk". I mutter at it. The file opens, but the screen remains black for a moment too long, as if the laptop itself is waiting for me to rethink my decision. Then, with a sudden flicker, a document appears—clean, professional, almost clinical. The title reads "Subject: Drake, S." my heartbeat skips, my eyes scanning quickly. The file seems to be a report, full of references to dates, locations, and encrypted codes. No, it can't be. My mother's report. The next line catches your attention: "Investigation: High-Value Asset Recovery. Status: Active. Confidential." I scroll down. The more I read, the less sense it makes. Names of people I don't know, locations I've never heard of. The only thing that stands out is the mention of a “target,” but the details are blurred out, obscured by blacked-out text. Something doesn’t feel right. Could it be? Did the colleague who sent me this, believe what was in this file? A chill crawls down my spine. Somehow, the situation is becoming something much bigger than I could ever imagine, something deeper than just a my mother's name as the subject of this file. I close my laptop quickly. My heart in my mouth, the palpatations making me feel sick. My hands tremble, and my thoughts spiral. I need answers—before I get dragged into something I can’t escape from. The alarm sounds, my pizza timer has gone off... |
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Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his patience wearing thin as he observed the guy who had been relentless in his attempts at seduction. Each flirty remark and suggestive gesture had fallen flat, and it was clear that the usual tactics wouldn’t work this time. So, Rowan decided to shift his approach. With an inviting smile that lit up his face and a playful tilt of his head, he said, “Why don’t you walk me home, yeah?” There was a challenge in his eyes, daring the man to take the bait. And, of course, he did. “Yeah, sure! Where is your home, anyway?” the man replied, eagerness lacing his words. Internally, Rowan smirked, pleased at how easily he was drawing the guy into his cleverly spun web of deceit. “Just a few blocks away,” he hummed, his voice smooth and casual. As he rose from his seat, he headed toward the bar to settle his tab, but the man was quick to intervene, stepping in front of him. “I’ve got this,” he insisted, pulling out his wallet and flashing a confident grin. Rowan's own smile widened at the gesture, enjoying the attention. As they began to walk, the man draped an arm around Rowan's shoulders, a little too familiar for Rowan's taste, but he played along, allowing the closeness to unfold. They strolled through the vibrant streets, passing streetlights that flickered to life as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow around them. Rowan let out a soft hum as they walked, the melody drawing the man deeper into his charm. Turning down a series of winding streets, Rowan picked a random neighborhood, feeling the thrill of danger in his choice. Little did he know, the alley adjacent to the flat he selected held secrets that could threaten his carefully constructed facade. But for now, he basked in the moment, teasing and taunting the man beside him, leading him further into his game of deception. before not giving him time to react he bit the man's neck and started to feed from an artery. He grinned from the man's lips as he screamed, it was loud and painful, but it quickly got muffled as Rowan reached up and covered his mouth. (Sorry for the shorter paragraph, made it to let it become more creative!) |
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My half eaten pizza and cold coffee mug disguarded on the side, I stare longily at the miserable contents of my plate, as my the food turns to ash in my mouth at a sudden scream. I jump up and look around the apartment before heading to the window and looking outside. The sun setting, just at the right angle, enough to blind me. I can't see anything. Was it a scream? I could have sworn it was a scream? I tentatively walk to my front door, leaning to open it. I grab my phone and keys and shut the door behind me as I will my legs to move to investigate. Come on, you're a detective and supernatural investigator, you've got this. My mind flashes the images from the file I've just seen. Doubt makes my heart pound faster as I lean out the front door of my building. Did no one else hear that? A lone car with headlight blinds me, as I look down the alley way adjacent. My jaw drops. I blink away the blinding headlights. What appear to be two men lurking in the shadows drawing down the side of the tall buildings. Are they ok? Are they just making out and I'm interrupting something? I try to peer closer without too many thoughts crossing my mind. Images now appear, flashing into my vision. There is body. The car. Footprints. Fur. Claw marks. I shake my head. "Hello?" I call out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks encase this turns out to be an embarrasing misunderstanding. |
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One man grew tense while the other just grew limp. Slowly Rowan peeled his fangs from the man's neck and let him drop, while he didn't drink every drop he'd have to deal with that later. His head turned slowly. The headlights blinded him. His dilating pupils immediately constricted and he almost let out an audible hiss. He didn't respond but rather looked at the woman silently for a moment, wiping off the dripping bright crimson blood on his chin with the back of his hand. Licking away most the of evidence that didn't stain his mouth. His breaths grew increasingly labored, each inhale strained and heavy with a palpable tension that thickened the air around him. The weight of his anxiety pressed down like a physical force, making it difficult to think clearly. How much had this woman witnessed? What secrets swirled in the depths of her gaze? A dark, sinister urge twisted within him, battling for dominance—a primal instinct urging him to either flee from the unsettling scene or lunge at her with a surge of frantic energy. He clenched his fists, fighting to maintain his composure amidst the turmoil of his emotions that threatened to spill over. Rowan tilted his head slightly, curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he sought to probe deeper into the mystery before him. “Hello, is something wrong?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of anxious anticipation. Excitement bubbled up in his belly, igniting a reckless spark that momentarily overshadowed his apprehension. The unpredictable thrill of the moment quickened his pulse, urging him to embrace whatever lay ahead. He found himself increasingly unnerved by the flickering shadows that danced at the edges of his vision, playing tricks on his mind. The dim light cast by the small flame in the lantern flickered uncertainly, creating elongated shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with a life of their own. Each murky silhouette held the potential to harbor a Wraith—an insidious, malevolent entity known for its ability to emerge silently from the darkness, bringing with it an air of dread and danger. The thought of such a creature lurking just out of sight sent a shiver down his spine, amplifying his sense of urgency and concern for the woman standing resolutely in front of him. A torrent of thoughts surged through his mind, swirling together in a chaotic tempest of fears and strategies. The weight of his apprehension pressed down on him, making it feel as if he were walking through a dense fog that clouded his judgment. He felt a compulsion to close his eyes for a brief moment, hoping that the darkness behind his eyelids might provide him with the clarity he so desperately sought amidst the confusion. As the moments ticked by, he spiraled deeper into a labyrinth of strategies, each branching thought leading him further along a path of potential actions. Different scenarios unfolded in his mind like scenes from a play, each with its own set of risks and rewards. He swiftly evaluated his options, weighing the pros and cons of each possibility, his heart racing with the urgency of their situation. Gradually, amidst the clamor of uncertainty, a single plan began to crystallize in his thoughts. It stood out as promising, its clear outline emerging from the chaos like a beacon of hope. With a newfound resolve, he focused his energy on this viable course of action, readying himself to spring into motion at a moment’s notice, determined to protect both himself and the woman he had vowed to safeguard in that moment. |
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A heavy thud hit the floor, as my vision improved with darkness now looming and threatening to consume me in the alleyway. I knew what I had just witnessed but my mind went blank before every sense seemed to scream at me all at once. I reach for my phone in my pocket. "Dammit" I cursed. The phone flashed. No battery. "You right there" I raise my voice, sounding threatening. I back away slowly, quickly turning my head to see if there was anyone around, or cars passing by. But alas, nothing. "Stay right there" I raise my voice louder, my heartbeat now drowning out the sound in my ears. "Don't move." I hold my phone in front of me encase I need to throw it at the figure in front of me. I step back slowly into the road and move backwards and forever backwards to the front door of my apartment building. If I could just get inside and lock the door, I could run to my apartment and call for help or even better scream. But did anyone here hear his screams? The lifeless body. The car. The fur. The claw marks. I breathed, the adrenaline pumping round my body, ready to turn and run. I quietly opened the door of my apartment building and step backwards. "Stay where you are!" I shout at the figure, before slowly closing the door. |
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Rowan stumbled forward, his instincts propelling him into motion well before his mind fully registered the gravity of the situation. Adrenaline surged through him as he sprinted toward the door, his foot slamming against it just in time to prevent it from shutting completely. The dim porch light flickered, casting elongated shadows that danced across the worn wooden floor. As he tilted his head, a disarmingly stained grin spread across his face, a chilling sight that would send shivers down anyone's spine. "No need for panic, mortal. Just passing through," he drawled, his voice smooth and fluid but punctuated by an unsettling undertone that hinted at darker intentions. The humor in his tone was sharp, almost mocking, as he continued, “Not like anyone would believe you if you said you saw a military man draining a man dry.” The glow from the porch lamp accentuated the angular lines of his sharp features—defined cheekbones and a strong jaw—that seemed to carve his face into the night. Around his neck, gleaming dog tags dangled like silver coins, catching the light with an eerie shine that made them seem almost otherworldly. He bore an uncanny resemblance to the man she had encountered at the shops earlier; it was as if the threads of fate had entwined their paths in some sinister design. Was it merely a trick of her imagination, or was there a deeper connection suspensefully lurking beneath the surface? His grin—a haunting expression that belied a predator lurking just below the surface—expanded slightly, revealing the sharp points of his fangs as they brushed against his lips, glinting briefly in the soft light. His narrowed eyes shimmered with a predatory glimmer, piercing through the shadows that cloaked the corners of the porch. They held an intensity that seemed to draw her in, creating a sense of both intrigue and terror that hung heavily in the air between them. He settled into the comforting warmth of his favorite sweatpants, the soft fabric enveloping him like a gentle hug. His hands sank deeply into the plush pockets, feeling the familiar texture beneath his fingers. "If they did, though," he murmured thoughtfully, his voice trailing off into a soft whisper that seemed to dissolve into the stillness of the room. The quiet surroundings wrapped around him like a thick blanket, each moment stretching out in peaceful solitude. "I'll just make them forget or kill them," He mused softly. His gaze remained fixed on her silhouette, his eyes meticulously tracing the contours of her figure, absorbing every detail as if committing her to memory. |
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