✗ ａｓｓｂｕｔｔ

[humdudgeon]

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂




humdudgeon
noun | hum·dud·geon | ¦həmˈdəjən
:tan:an imaginary illness or pain


my name's humdudgeon and if u post or steal i'll cry nd send u pictures
of my tears . these are my samples. i left gaia for about a year or so, so
i'm updating my skill, but i am advanced literate.

[humdudgeon]

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂





these are my "in action" roleplaying examples;

xxxx

xxxx

xxxx

[humdudgeon]

this example contained high levels of noob.
dangerously high levels.

[humdudgeon]

Word Count

Word Count: 745

█ █ ███ ▌▌ ██ █ █ █ ██ ▌▌ ██ █
xxxD A N I E L L Exx
xxxxxxxxxxxA R M A D O S ECARTER↻

M SxxWANNABExxVAMPIRE

tab tab tab ❝ B I T EXXB I T EXXAXXB I T EXX M EXXAXX S O XXXXC A R E L E S S L YXX. T U R NXX T U R NXX T U R NXX M E❞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂▂▂▂▂

Ah, vampires. There was nothing more that Danielle loved more. She had read any and all books pertaining to them. She dressed in black and wore fangs to mimic them. But, even through her pitiful attempts to imitate the beloved creatures, she still was missing a certain flare and emotion in the animals of the dark. Even with her white grape juice, dyed a crimson red with five or six drops of red food coloring, or even her hopeless addiction to blood, she couldn't crave anything more than to become what she tried to believe in. She wanted to believe they were real. She wanted to believe they existed. But she just couldn't bring herself into the full realization that they existed. Danielle wasn't one of those petty Stephanie Meyer addicts. She believe in vampires, not sparkling gay lords. Dani perused through more books that sketched the idea of them bursting into freaking flames at the glimpse of sunlight. The bloodthirsty demons hunting the earth to suck humans dry. The temptress of seduction.

Her friends told her to get help. Her family told her to get help. And somewhere in the part of Dani that she pushed down deep inside of her brain, the back of her mind screamed, get help. But, despite their failing efforts, Danielle had still managed to go through her high school years therapy free. Up until the start of college, when the teachers found her cutting her wrists and sucking the blood. She wasn't depressed, oh no. She had hoped that drinking enough blood would turn her. She was appointed a very forceful psychiatrist who had diagnosed her schizophrenic, and therefore, the staff of the college watched her under close eye to ensure that she was getting all of her medications that she needed.

Danielle sat up from her bed, her windows covered with heavy velvet curtains, blocking out the sun. Dani stretched out from her bed, immediately pushing in her plastic vampire teeth. She got up and marched over to her mini fridge, grabbing her custom made smoothie. It had a dark crimson tone, flowing around in the consistency of blood. She had made it out of a mixture of tomatoes, strawberries, pomegranates, and grapes. Like I said, this girl was amazingly addicted. She loved vampires more than a back alley whore loves crack. Danielle continued to her itty bitty bathroom, pulling on her black skinny jeans, a local band tee shirt (once again, as dark as midnight), and a dark heavy overcoat. She put her smoothie in a small bloodbag, smiling at the witty cleverness of the custom thermos. She popped in a small tablet of medication, rolling her eyes as she swallowed it, and walked out the door.

Dani snuck up on her best friend, Noah. She loved him because of the conversations she was able to hold, and the debates that someone besides herself could grasp and stay engaged in without getting confused. Danielle popped up beside him, a hood over her head. She had the tip of the blood bag as she sucked smoothie red goodness out. The one daily routine she had left out was her shoes, which was really a ritual for her. She hardly ever wore shoes. She popped the blood bag out of her mouth, licking the tip of a fang as she spoke. "Hows it hanging, bloodbag?" Danielle broke the silence between the two with her perfected romanian accent. She was purebred american.

Dani especially liked hanging out with Noah because her was around the one friend she had. The rest of the population thought she was crazy. Dani was that one person at lunch, sitting at a corner by herself, taking tiny bites from a bag lunch. She hadn't been able to interact with one person yet without either being asked about her attire, or bringing up vampires. She loved Noah because he'd openly discuss it without getting freaked out. And Dani found that amusing. She always joked about Noah being a vampire, even though she knew it wasn't true. Danielle had come to face the truth that they weren't real, she had been forced to face the truth that they weren't real. Her parents had taken her to a therapist when she was a youngster. She had given up bringing them up around them for awhile, until college hit and they addiction and theories started exploding from every orifice of Danielle. She was hooked in, fang by piercing fang.

[humdudgeon]

Word Count

Word Count: 936

█ █ ███ ▌▌ ██ █ █ █ ██ ▌▌ ██ █
xxxD A N I E L L Exx
xxxxxxxxxxxA R M A D O S ECARTER↻

M SxxWANNABExxVAMPIRE

tab tab tab ❝ B I T EXXB I T EXXAXXB I T EXX M EXXAXX S O XXXXC A R E L E S S L YXX. T U R NXX T U R NXX T U R NXX M E❞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂▂▂▂▂

Danielle smiled at Noah. She always enjoyed the scaring the s**t out of people. It was true, ever since she was a small teeny vampire, she loved scaring people and pranking people. Mostly pranking people with things that would scare them. One time she got her stepdad into believing she was dead. It wasn't very funny for him when the police showed up and she was sitting there on the couch watching television. And this other time, she was able to sit above the door frame at her first party, and then after she rang the bell, the guy opened it and stepped outside. He wasn't expecting Dani to fall onto his shoulders in a vampire outfit, but that's what happened. He ran around until he hit his head on a tree and fell. The was the last party she had ever been invited to, but she crashed some parties before them by showing up with a giant plastic baggy of fruit punch. She had smeared some on her face and everyone was silent when she walked in laughing.

It wasn't much of a surprise that Danielle was diagnosed schizophrenic. She had an imaginary friend, but everyone had tried to convince her that she was too old for imaginary friends, thus giving the illusion that she had schizophrenia. Her imaginary friend was named Todd, and he was a vampire. He convinced her that everything they had ever discussed happened, and was real. She of course was told sternly by her parents to give up on Todd, but she held onto him throughout college. She hadn't let go, and he was still there. She even took pictures with him. They were the best of pals until Dani met Noah on the first day of college. After Noah and Danielle grew to know and love each other, Todd became a third wheel. But he still lurked.

"Screw studying, let's go grab a bite, Noah. I bet there are some tasty humans around here somewhere." By grab a bite, like always, Danielle meant go to starbucks. She used code for everything, and Noah had known to grow used to them and learn them over the years, so Danielle knew he would catch on without even thinking about it, and walk to the Starbucks with her. Unless he went off on his own separate route, in which case Dani would groan and instinctively follow him. She didn't like going anywhere by herself. She was a five foot two girl, and people thought she was crazy. They didn't want her around the college, or around them. She knew that, but she didn't want to acknowledge it directly. She looked at is as following her friend because she didn't want to get separated from him.

After speaking, Danielle started walking in the direction of Starbucks, less than a block away from the college. In fact, it was on their campus. She didn't need to walk more than forty feet to get there. Danielle hoped that Noah would tag along. He was her best friend, well, and her only friend. After her odd obsession started, all of her other friends abandoned her at senior year. They didn't write, 'Keep in touch' in her year book. They wrote, 'Have a nice life.' Noah was that one friend that after her obsession started, had the chance to meet her, once all of her fairly normal attitude had vanished. But, Dani had grown to like Noah. He was a handsome man, and charming. He had every aspect that Dani loved; pale skin, nice cheekbone, dark and beautiful hair. And even after Danielle's crush had formed on Noah, she hadn't said a word. She didn't want to make a move and ruin everything, and Noah hadn't done anything to indicate that he liked her back. It was like a pond of ducks, watching the humans intently. Whichever one moved first would disrupt the whole balance. And Danielle felt as though she was the human.

As she was walking, Danielle took another large gulp of her smoothie to wash down the medication that seemed to by caught in her chest. She sighed, and glanced behind her to see if Noah was following along. She turned back around and adjusted the hood of her jacket. Danielle wore jackets a lot. She always did, even in the summer. When people asked why, Dani made up the excuse that is was to shield her vampire skin from the sun or else it would start to boil and she would explode from the inside out. However, what the case really was were these big nasty scars up and down her arms, right along the veins. They weren't from her recent cutting, but they were from these sedatives and medications that her parents would inject into her veins. They always thought there was something that would make her better; something that would make her the best little girl in the world. Not insane. She wasn't insane, though. Her parents told her she wasn't, and they didn't think so. It was a big fat lie. They did think so. They constantly told her to stop what she was doing, and told her it was time to see another therapist, upon the three they had scheduled for her. Because they were important and fairly wealthy people, they could afford therapists that were expensive and accurate. They didn't do anything to help. But, Danielle didn't wear the jacket to hide the therapists or the years of injection. She wore that jackets to hide the fact that her parents were ashamed of the way their daughter was.

[humdudgeon]

Word Count

Word Count: 746

█ █ ███ ▌▌ ██ █ █ █ ██ ▌▌ ██ █
xxxJEWELEAHxx
xxxxxxxxxxxI Z A B E L LHILTON↻

M SxxFISH xxSTICK

tab tab tab ❝ C H O PXXC H O PXXC H O PXXM EXX U PXX{XX I ' M XXXXAXXM O N S T E RXX H A XX H AXX H A } ❞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂▂▂▂▂

Jeweleah smiled coyly, peering at Rayne. "Ah, yes. I forgot you haven't raped anyone as of lately. How many sons did you have again?" Jeweleah usually felt a great amount of disdain and hatred toward the incubus, but after her sulking it was just nice to have someone to spat insults at, even if that someone did a crappy job at it. Pursing her lips, Jewels spun around on the heel of her converse, preparing to go to the YMCA. It was after hours, of course. She could always deal with buy a lobster and a blow fish at the local sushi restraunt and swimming. Maybe this time an octopus would suffice. In spinning around, Jeweleah came face to face with the vampire. Just her luck. She stared up at his pale skin, hovering well above a foot over her small body. She was a petite young girl, barely even measuring at five feet tall. At least, only by three inches. 'Say no, say no, say no...' "Sure, why not. But, um, I'd like to go out to get a bit of... food, first. Would that work? It's just that I have one other plan..." Jeweleah chewed at her lip a bit, feeling the icy embrace of Tristan's fingers around hers. She smiled at him, trying to give her doe eyes off. It -- it wasn't flirting. Okay, maybe a tiny bit. Besides, Jeweleah hadn't had more than one boyfriend in her life. Either they went out on a first date for the publicity of dating a fish, or they discovered she was a fish.

Okay, now onto next item of business. Jeweleah didn't want any food. She hated eating fish. Ironically enough, she was a fish. She hated the smell of fish, she hated the feel of fish, she just hated fish in general. Which might duly note why she hated herself. She became what she hated. She become what she avoided. So, why was she buying fish? Well, short and sweet, the fish taught her new things. The octopus taught camouflage, the puffer taught defense, and the lobster taught aggressive behavior. The fish were basically her own little private tutors. After they taught her something, she released them into the ocean. The was how it worked. However, there had been one teeny little turtle that, no matter what, Jewels couldn't let go of him and set him free. She actually had him in a tank in her room.

Her eyes wide, and staring off into space, Jewels snapped back into reality (ope, there goes gravity.) and peered up at Tristan. "So, anyway, that's just what I sorta want. You should go grab your swim trunks if your interested in joining me. I'm just going to do anything to get away from the "love birds." Jeweleah did air quotes, smiling back over at Rayne from across her shoulder. It was obvious that the two liked each other, and Jeweleah was in the know how. She knew what was going on between the two. "Anyway... I have to grab a couple things really quickly." Jeweleah twisted her arm out of Tristan's grip, rushing up the stairs to her apartment.

"Fickle?" Jeweleah called, walking up to a small aquarium. Bubbles arose to the top, and a small sea turtle poked it's head out from under the crystal clear salt water, sea plants and snails decorating the bottom. The corpse of a dead fish floated across the top of the water, a chunk missing. 'What now, Ariel? Another ride to your horrid pool?' Fickle said. Okay, he really didn't say it. It was like a form of mind reading, just in the opposite context. "Oh, you be quiet. The Y has salt water pools, Fickle." The turtles name was Fickle because upon rescuing him, Jeweleah had been indecisive on whether or not to keep him. She called him Fickle until she discovered the bond she had created with the animal. "Now, do you want to go or not?"
'Fine. Jewels grabbed out a small little plastic tank, filled halfway with saltwater. After she lifted Fickle in, she draped a black curtain over it and made her way down stairs.

Once again standing next to the vampire, Jeweleah looked up at him, sliding her arms through a yellow jacket. "So, are you going to join us -- me, or not?" Jeweleah asked, holding Fickle in the hand that had been bleeding for awhile, the substance now sticky and slightly crusted.

[humdudgeon]

█ █ ███ ▌▌ ██ █ █ █ ██ ▌▌ ██ █
xxxJEWELEAHxx
xxxxxxxxxxxI Z A B E L LHILTON↻

M SxxFISH xxSTICK

tab tab tab ❝ C H O PXXC H O PXXC H O PXXM EXX U PXX{XX I ' M XXXXAXXM O N S T E RXX H A XX H AXX H A } ❞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂ ▂▂▂▂▂

After sitting in front of Tristan for awhile, Bryn came by and broke the silence, offering Jeweleah an escape to go to the store and help shop for dresses. "Um, sure, why not? We can pass by a little sushi place, and the pool on the way back." Jewels said, walking away from Tristan and along with Bryn to the store. They had never really gotten to know each other, but this was the chance for Jewels and Bryn to get accompanied. And who knew? Maybe just for the hell of it Jeweleah would buy a dress. She looked best in blue, ironically. Or maybe a lime green, shimmering.

After stepping out the door, Jeweleah realized it was too cold outside for Fickle to be in the water. 'Hey, Sardine, it's freezing in here!' Fickle shouted, mentally. "I know, I know. I was just thinking about that. Um, Brine, excuse me for a minute." Jeweleah had clumsily slurred Bryn's name, running to a local store down the sidewalk. When she entered, the bell rang above her head, hurting her echo locative ears. "Eric? Eric, I need you to hold onto Fickle for a bit for me!" Jeweleah called throughout the customer depraived mythology shop. Out from behind the back room, a plump man with balding white hair and thick rimmed glasses huddled towards Jewels. "You got it, plum cakes." Eric took the container with his short, stubby little fingers. "Have a good time." He said. Eric was Jeweleah's uncle. He loaned her money from the surprisingly wealthy little store, apparently scraping in money from stock. He didn't know about her fishy secret, but he helped her out whenever she asked. "Thanks, I will." Jeweleah called as she walked out the store.

As she walked back to Bryn, Jewels snow soaked gloves absorbed moisture like a shamwow. Her webbings pushed against the leather, putting pressure and limited range of motion on her fingers. As she passed a group of three people, whom appeared to be tenants, Jeweleah curse under her breath. "God, I wish that stupid old witch that cursed me would let me kick her a** up and down these streets 'till she died." Jeweleah didn't notice Elijah's dark hair as she passed by him, or Shiloh and Owyn. She, however, continued until she reached Bryn.

"I'm back. And now to your dresses!" Jeweleah said, one of her gloves falling off as she attempted to make a superhero pose. Her webbed fingers would desist evolving along her thin, long fingers. Jeweleah threw her gloves in her pocket and sighed, pulling a smile on her face before causing distress to Bryn. "Oh, and I never thanked you for my top -- whatevers. So, thanks, I guess." Jeweleah said, starting down the sidewalk again. There was a pink glowing sign down the street that flash with the flourescent words, 'Bailey's Boutique; Everything a woman could desire.' Jeweleah had never actually really shopped for a dress before, or been to a party, for that matter. Unless birthday parties counted, and ones that were yours, then strike out the partying gal.

Jeweleah stared out into space for awhile, thinking about one of her friends, Elijah. He was a genie, and she often wondered if he made it so she crushed over him with his mythical powers, or his own non-magically-enhanced ability. Either way, somewhere in the back of her mind Jeweleah wished that he would ask her out to a party, or a date. Either one would be fine as long as she got to spend time with him.

Shaking her head, Jeweleah managed to wiggle her distraction of the gala out of her ears. Elijah was good. Too good for her. She didn't have a chance. Instead, she continued down the side walk, her converse squeaking against a metal grate as she stepped over it, a penny falling through and making a metallic sound as it hit the bottom. "So who do you like, Bryn? Do you have the shine in your eye saved for someone?" The shine in your eye was an expression Jeweleah used whenever she discussed romance. It was basically a metaphor for heart, but it was meant to be that someone's eyes shined for another. Stealing someone's shine was the bad side of the metaphor. Jeweleah kicked a rock along in front of her, hands in her pockets, as she awaited a reply.

[humdudgeon]

✄ ⊱ ｊａｃｋｓｏｎ

NO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE
NO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE
NO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂

Waking up in the morning in his birthday suit, Jackson looked over to Aiden with a tired look in his eye. It took him awhile to recall the events that took place, but when he realized it, Jackson ran a hand through his dark locks. Oh, dear god. Jackson remarked, bring his legs up to his chest and kicking his twin in the back. As his brother was thrown of the side of the bed, Jackson peered over, a large grin on his face. Oh, good morning, sunshine. Jackson's face dropped all playfulness. Get some ******** clothes on. Jackson stood up, hugging the blankets around his lower body. He walked into the bathroom, slamming the door closed and taking a shower.

Jackson had been a bit disappointed that he couldn't hold his alcohol a bit better; the drunker he got the more his self broke and his mind told him to drink. Obviously, things got a bit out of hand, and he ended up having a fun night with his twin, which he slightly regretted, hence why he wasn't in the best of moods. Not like he was most of the time, anyway. Jackson hadn't completely regretted the night, he just regretted that he had been drunk during it; not being able to control himself as well or remember every single detail about it.

Hopping out of the shower, this time with some clothes on, Jackson saw his brother sitting back on the bed; Jackson winked at him, catching a glimpse of the shiny metal bar sticking out of his ear. Jackson walked over and examined the mutilated piercing, turning it around in his fingers. Since when did you get an ear bar? Seeing how torn and swollen the hole was, Jackson felt the need to make a comment, unknowingly against himself. I would sue whoever the ******** you payed for that; It's going to get infected. Jackson was about to walk out of the bedroom door, peering back in for a second and smiling slyly. Oh, and next time, there'll be handcuffs. Jackson grabbed his jacket, seeing that the rain had turned into snow somewhere along the night. Before Jackson opened the door to go get some food for the two, he felt the need to shout back at his brother. And it's nice to know I made you say my name! Jackson had recalled the time in the night where his brother seemed to be chanting his name under his breath. After he stepped out of the door, he turned around to lock it, already knowing the crusted old witch was behind him being the nosy neighbor she was. "That poor girl! You're just going to leave her, now, aren't you." Being tired of the s**t that he put up with everyday, Jackson swiveled around on the tips of his toes and glared into the old ladies eyes. I can't exactly ditch them since it's my brother, you old witch! The lady gasped, pursing her lips. "Being a f*****t is a sin! Incest is, too! You're going to burn in hell!" As Jackson walked away, he waved back to the old lady. If I do, I'll make sure to drag you with me. Jackson clicked his mouth, heading downstairs to walk to a McDonald's for their breakfast special.

After Jackson picked up some food, he walked back home to his brother, unlocking the door and heading in, catching a glimpse of the neighbor's scrunched up face peering out of her window. Jackson ignored her, for once, and just continued to walk into the apartment. Aiden, I got some food! Jackson yelled, walking into his room and setting the food up on a table that had been set up for god knows what, but was definitely going to be used in the next little game. Since last night, Jackson's mind couldn't stop thinking up things to do to his twin, whether it be hand cuffs, slamming him against things, or even his adored idea of giving Aiden a tattoo on his a** that read, Property of Jackson. Jackson took little time diving into the egg and bacon sandwich he got, closing his eyes and trying to recall every little detail, especially the ones that were left to the imagination.



[ ooc; olo c;

[humdudgeon]

✄ ⊱ ｊａｃｋｓｏｎ

NO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE
NO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE
NO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂

Jackson could smell blood in the air, mixed with alcohol. His father and him were having a bonding moment, if bonding meant they were kicking each other's a**. Jackson knew that the woman who lived in the apartment down the hall called the police; they were making a huge ruckus. And it wasn't before long that Jackson saw the red and blue lights outside his window. So, why couldn't he stop? Why couldn't he just walk away from the man who taught him how to fight, or taught his twin how to take a beating? Jackson threw in one last punch, square in the face, before he heard the door slam open, and the boys in navy blue pull Jackson off from his father, a little bit bloody. Jackson caught the worst of the storm, but that's because his father was a lot bigger than him, towering at six foot five, while he stood at a bit smaller height of five foot eleven. Jackson's nose was bleeding, and he had a couple scratches on his face, but he glanced over at his twin, forgetting about most of the pain.

After the police had left, Jackson knew why they left the two alone; they were nearly eighteen, their birthday in a couple days. They could stand on their own perfectly fine. Feels weird, now. Have that fat a** out of our house. Jackson rubbed the back of his head, standing up and heading to the fridge. He swung the door open, bending down and grabbing some eggnog. It was the holiday season; his father sought out the tradition of mixing alcohol with eggnog heavily. Jackson rumaged through the cabinets, grabbing a glass and pouring himself a bit of the heavy liquid. After this, you want to go get something to eat? Jackson called back to his twin, taking a huge swig off of his cup. He wiped the remnants of the substance off of his lip, walking back into the living room where crimson droplets decorated their mothers rug. Jackson clenched his jaw a bit, setting down the glass and popping his knuckles. He didn't have much to do with his mother before she died, he barely even suckled, but he saw thousands of pictures of how beautiful she was, and how handsome the boys' father was before she died. After that, he went crazy, beating the twins and drinking heavily.

Jackson snapped himself out of his heavy train of thought, looking back at his brother. Jackson raised a hand up, scratching his eyebrow. He looked around the room, glancing at all of the materials that had been thrown about. Jackson saw a picture frame on the floor, walking over calmly and picking it up. He saw the glass in it was shattered, warping his mothers face. He simply sat it back on the stand where it belonged, rubbing his eye while he pursed his lips. I was thinking maybe Burger King; Taco bell. I don't know. Something besides that shitty McDonalds. Jackson didn't really hate McDonalds itself. There was a girl there would worked night shifts that Jackson had picked up. He just didn't want to see her again, mostly because she would gawk and try to get back in touch. But that was one thing against Jackson's, '******** and Run' policy. He wasn't really a boy that played nice, outside or inside the bedroom. He was a big teddy bear to his brother, but, there were times where he wanted to crack him upside the head, just being the sadist he was.



[ ooc; i hope this is good enough. c:

[humdudgeon]

Word Count

Word Count: 1,184

✄ ⊱ T H E xxS A D I S T

↻xxxxxxxNO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE
↻xxxxxxxNO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE
↻xxxxxxxNO ONE GIVES A ******** ONE GIVES A s**txxxxxYOU DESERVE ITxxxxxEVEN THROUGH YOUR INNOCENCE


F U - F U - [********] YOU
F U - F U - ******** YOU U P.

( I ' M xxa monster ) H A XXxxHAzzHA



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂


Christmas a hum bug. The motto that would forever stick with all those scrooges, including Christofer Dallenger. He had no reason to be merry on Christmas, especially not this one. He was locked in a tiny little room, with shitty food and dumbass security guards. Once you're in Juvenile Detention, you're not only stripped of civilian rights, but the rights to be happy whatsoever. Chris had been on the naughty list since new years eve, setting one of his neighbors outside Christmas trees on fire. "It'll be funny, go on, go on." His friends had pushed him to lighting the tree up, and why ruin your reputation of being a total badassery? Well, he basically had the exact same motive throughout the entire year. He's most recent offense wasn't too bad; shoplifting from a store. He wanted to get his friend, Oliver, a nice gift for the holidays. He could give less than half a s**t for most other people, but he thought Ollie was amusing. She always picked her fights with him, and there were only a couple times where he just wanted to beat the s**t out of her, but he did enjoy those few times where he had to blow off steam and out of no where she showed up. Oliver was one of the people that Christofer was really close to. Not mentally, but he definetly had a connection with her. He would've done something long ago, but he was almost certain that she was Casey's.

Seeing a guard pass by his cell, Chris didn't look up from his feet, even when he heard the door slide open across the concrete. "You'll get to leave, today, Christofer." Chris looked up, sighing as he pushed himself off of his feet. "You can get your clothes at the front desk and leave those here." The guard motioned to Christofer's clothing that he had been forced into the first day he was here. It was completely identical to everyone else's, although it sagged along his lanky figure. He was a rather tall male, about five foot nine, and he weighed around one thirty. People he got into fights with would always go for his ribs, mostly because those were the bones that stuck out the most on him. "Chris!" The security guard snapped Christofer out of his train of thought, looking wide eyed and impatient. "Com'on. You're free to go, you don't want to stay here any longer then you have to, bud." Chris sneered a bit at the bud, eventually rolling his eyes and standing up. "I don't want to see you here anymore." The man said. Christofer let out a laugh, looking back at him with a slightly playful expression. "No promises, bud" Chris teased, shaking the man's hand as he outstretched it.

Once Chris had left the detention center, he didn't have a ride to take him home, so he insisted he walked. He hadn't been equipped with a coat when he was first admitted to the center, so the cold against his skin was like ******** torture. Gooseflesh erupted over his body, which shook and trembled. "Screw this." He said, finding a bus stop. There was a man with nothing but rags on his back, and he was eating a bowl of chili with the two teeth he had left in his mouth. You'd think with two teeth in your mouth they'd be pretty ******** clean, but no. These teeth were yellowed, and they looked like the had been sunken into a vat of murky pink jello. Chris sneered as he realized the only seat was next to the old b*****d. As he sat down, the man looked over to him and flashed a really quick smile. "Hey, do you know where any local dentists are?" He teased. The man snarled, standing up and walking to the back of the bus to stand. Chris rolled his eyes, sitting his legs up in the seat next to him.

When he got close to his house, Chris signaled the bus driver to stop. He still had to walk down his street, but by then he had least had a rest from the cold and the stroll wasn't very long. Slamming the door behind him, he walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch. He really didn't want to be at his house, but he didn't know where else to go. He decided to text Oliver, not because he liked her, or anything. He wanted to find out where the ******** his family was. He definetly did not like the little dyke.

hey, you're casey's parasite. where the hell are you guys? i don't want to be alone at this god forsaken house. Chris hit the send button, walking up to his room to find a different coat. The house wasn't exactly the warmest place in the world, but he wasn't planning on staying there, either. He mentally face palmed, realizing he hadn't even yelled to see if there was even anybody in his household. He was about to, however, he found out that he really couldn't care less on whether or not anybody was there. He didn't really want to be bothered about his ways, or drilled on how juvie had been. Sneaking out of the house, Christofer closed the door silently behind him. He decided if there was one place he would want to go for the holidays, it would probably be the mall. You couldn't find a better opportunity to fight; people freaking out and running into stores to find things for their family, getting a bit too protective over the things that were on the little brats x-mas list. Chris was almost certain that if he had wanted to beat the s**t out of someone, he could find them there. Snuggling tightly into the neck of his fur coat, puffy and black, he headed off towards the mall. Chris kept his hands on his phone, keeping in check whenever it vibrated. He got a couple false alarms, seeing that it was either from some idiot sending a chain letter, or asking about whether or not he was out. He replied, '******** you.' to both.

After nearly freezing the snot that dripped from his nose off, Chris had finally made it to the mall. He walked into the doors, folding his hood off of his head and looking around. His first thought was to raid gamestop, but the smell of actual food, only a bit less shitty than correctional facility food, Christofer's stomach rumbled. He groaned as he walked down into the small little food court, eyeing around. He noticed Oliver and the other's, smiling only in his head. His stomach felt a little queasy at the sight of his family beings he had been depraved of them for nearly three weeks. He walked over, first thumping Oliver on the head from behind. "Well, look here. Either you guys are really predictable or I have esp." Chris joked, smiling at his siblings and the small girl he stood next to."Prisons a b***h." He remarked, smirking almost casually.

[humdudgeon]

Quote:

1,094

Olly wasnt much of a talker if he wanted something warm, and soft. Preferably a hole, of some sort. It didnt matter if it had feelings, and was alive and well, or was just something warmed in the microwave. If he wanted something along those lines, he was quiet, and a bit isolated. Off in another world, even if someone else was trying to interrupt his thoughts with their moaning. Last night had been far from a bad night, even though once again, Oliver was in an entirely different time of his life, somewhere else. Whether it be the start of the industrial revolution, or in the LSD heavy homes with his best friends, now long dead. Just surviving in those minutes was enough for him. His life flew by, years feeling as though they were just another millisecond. He had grown old, older than what the bags of flesh considered ancient. A mere seventy-eight? Please, b***h. Olly had flown by those years with his flawless skin, smooth and unweathered by the years. They had been so very good to him.

Olly heard the rip. He saw her face. He knew it wasnt good. He should get out. Flee. He should have run, or at least held his nose. Instead, the last thing he could remember was the smell that filled his nostrils. That sweet, metallic scent that danced over his senses. His eyes filled in with his pupils, and the poor, innocent woman who had gone with him to satisfy the urging hunger she had. The same one Olly had, just in a different form. His was a bit more violent. A bit less slutty, and a lot more bloody. He had been infected with it at a young age, even though he tried to run away from the epidemic of hunger. He was a glutton in his early years, cursing himself to walk along the rest of his days with a temptation that would never suffice his own needs. The last thing he could remember was being dragged away from a gift, wrapped in fine paper with a special herb inside. He was sharing it with her, Amelia. He was fine with being pulled away, but it wasnt in the best of times.

As he awoke, laying next to mangles of flesh and muscle, he realized last night hadnt been far from bad. It had been the worse, and it could only end in police tape and investigation. Like always, however, he had his ways to get away from the charges, to escape the iron bars that would pull him away from the blood and eventually kill him. He got up, his mouth turned in a frown. He cleaned her up, a large gash running across her chest. His nails, he assume. Judging by the blood underneath his nails, drying a dark brown. She had chunks missing from her stomach, mostly her throat. His teeth. He still had the aftertaste on his tongue. It was delicious in his taste buds, but it was sour at the thought that another life fell under the cost of his satiable feed. He wet a tissue with his tongue, dragging it along her drying skin. He could see her ribs, and the fact that her heart was absent. It made his stomach twist. He had done this. Once again, he had put someone at his hands.

Oliver got up, walking into the woman's bathroom and rinsing the blood off of himself, mostly around his mouth. Some dried in his hair. He almost started crying as the water beat against his skin. Instead, he turned off the scorching hot liquid, hopping out and pulling on his clothes before making a dash out of the house. He no longer wanted to see her, or her blood stained covers. He didnt even know her name. He pulled on his jacket, looking down at the ground. "Im so sorry." He said, quietly, before walking out of the apartment. He passed a few bars, but he figured it was too soon to start drinking. It was too soon to try and wash the memories down like a dry throat with the booze. Olly had a little more self control than that when it came to alcohol. He could stop when he wanted to. He just didnt really want to all that often.

Reaching his apartment, Oliver trudged up the stairs. He pulled his keys from the pocket in his leather jacket, opening the door and walking through to slam it shut. He looked around the room, holes decorating the dry wall. Blood smeared on the refrigerator. Speaking of which.... Olly headed toward the off white machine, opening the freezer drawer to pull out several packs of AB. He had already been satisfied last night, but his stomach was like a blackhole. It could never really be satisfied. Its fill would always drain a little, begging to be replenished. He bit into the cold bags, at least four in his hands. The cold hurt his temperature sensitive fangs, but the pain felt good. It was almost like a punishment. As he began slurping the crimson, the rubies dripped down onto his clean band shirt, signing off with the words, Slip knot. He didnt really care for the band, but the design of the shirt had caught his attention. He grabbed his phone off the counter, blood and saliva dripping off of his chin. He had already finished the snack pack. He still wanted more, though. Olly knew it wouldnt stay a secret for long. He also knew it couldnt. If he kept it a secret, it would eat him alive, ironically enough. The fact that he fed off of a woman would eat him alive. Such twisted humor.

Olly snapped his touch screen phone to the side, punching in the name, ******** bag. In his contacts, thats what one of his friends, another vampire by the name of Ollie, was listed as.

it happened again. come see me, when you have the time.

Olly hit send, grabbing a few blood bags out of his fridge and biting into then. His eyes glowed that sclera black, but tears overflowed his eyelids. He was away from people. They were safe. Olly crossed his legs on his couch, slowly savoring the taste of the blood. That was one of the wonderful effects of being a nurse. He had access to beautiful, ruby red blood. Even if it didnt help his control, it was still good. "Oink oink." Olly remarked with dark humor, a sullen tone.

[humdudgeon]

✄ ⊱ T H E xxA N G E L

↻xxxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGINxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO GOxxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVExxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO END
↻xxxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGINxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO GOxxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVExxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO END
↻xxxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGINxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO GOxxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVExxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO END



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx↻ I'M AN AMATEUR⋮these are my days on earth⋮BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAVE ANYONE




Cas furrowed his brow. He cocked his head, looking at RJ. I - I don't get it. That was supposed to stop you. Castiel looked down at the empty glass of scotch, and watched as the waitress walked back to take Castiel's order and get RJ a drink.

Hey, darling. What can I get for you? The waitress asked. She smiled, wiping down her hands with that stereotypical red wash rag Cas saw every other barmaid with.

I don't need any significant alcoholic substances. I'm an angel of the Lord, and I shall remain pure. Cas remarked. The waitress smiled a bit, looking a tad confused. She picked up RJ's glass, instead, retreating back to get a refill. When she came back, she had two glasses in her hand, one a clear color. Castiel instantly figured it was water.

Here's a refill on your scotch, babe. And a drink for your friend as courtesy of the man 'cross the bar. As she walked away, Castiel picked up the scotch refill, downing it much too quickly before realizing that the drink burned. He groaned, and held his tongue out. His brow was tense with pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut. The tightness of his eyelids made his head hurt a bit with pressure, but that wasn't the largest of his worries. In a daze of hurt, he picked up the clear liquid and downed it quickly, as well. It burned just as much, and the thought hit him that it was vodka, not water.

Holy hell. How can you withstand such torment to your throat? Cas remarked, propping his elbows up and resting his head in his hands. As the waitress came back to gather the glasses, Castiel doubted his ability to drink anymore to cover for RJ. He tapped his middle and pointer to the woman's forehead, pushing his grace across his veins to to her. She fell unconscious, hitting the floor. That is a relief. I don't think I could consume any more. Cas said, sitting up and looking at RJ strictly. Listen to my you filthy, stubborn human. I am an angel, and you will stop drinking, so help me. I don't want to be here, and I wish I wasn't assigned to help you, but I don't go away until you are sober. Castiel's voice is gruff, but his attitude is a slight bit shaky. He is worried about RJ retorting with some quick snap, or perhaps a swift punch.

I have no need for physical currency.I shall not be accommodating you for any drinks, but I will be staying with you until you give up on consuming alcohol. Cas' voice was softer this time, but his look was just as stern and confident as his tone had been just a second ago. Castiel leaned forward. Please, RJ. I want to get on with my life up there just as much as you want to get on with your life down here. I cannot leave unless you are clean. Castiel glanced down at the waitress, almost smirking. For a second, he was curious as to if the people around him didn't notice her or didn't care. He refocused his attention to RJ, giving him a look that was like a confused puppy dog face. He dared not touch the gentleman, but he tried to keep his hands close to his.

[humdudgeon]

✄ ⊱ T H E xxA N G E L

↻xxxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGINxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO GOxxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVExxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO END
↻xxxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGINxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO GOxxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVExxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO END
↻xxxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGINxxxxxDON'T KNOW WHERE TO GOxxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVExxxxxDON'T KNOW HOW TO END



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx↻ I'M AN AMATEUR⋮these are my days on earth⋮BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAVE ANYONE




"Castiel, we need you to go save him. It's not going to be easy, but you will gain experience."

The words drummed through Cas' head. He had just managed to find a vessel. Now Zachariah was asking him to save some poor soul? God help whatever man was at the other end of this string. Castiel's cherry had just barely been prodded at. He was new at this. That much was obvious. Cas doubted his abilities. He couldn't save anyone. He just simply couldn't. A cat? Okay, he could probably get a ladder. And even then the feline would walk away with injuries.

"Babe? You alright?"

The bartender wiping down the dark alcohol sticky tile turned her worry filled hazel eyes onto Castiel. He tilted his head a bit, narrowing his sky blue eyes on the woman. Who is this 'babe' you are referring to? My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord. The woman furrowed her brows, and put down the rag, leaning in on her forearms. She looked down at the clear glass Cas had in front of him. It was clearly water, but that didn't really mean much to a woman who dealt with vodka all night. To her, it might as well have been vodka.

"I think that's enough for you, 'Castiel'." She said, pulling back the untouched glass. Castiel shrugged and looked around the bar. There were many lost souls here. And a couple demons. But he had no idea what to do about any of it. They might as well been rocket science. They shot him evil glares, and Cas quickly turned his head away from them to hide his look. He got up quickly, walking to the door. The man he was looking for was clearly not here.

"Hey, you're not thinking of driving, are you?" The bartender walked to the end of the bar, clenching her jaw and setting down the red rag she used to clean the tile.

No. I have no use for vehicles. I'll just fly there. Castiel shot quickly. The man sitting on a stool closest to the door turned on the seat and gave him a confused glance. Cas' stomach churned, for he wasn't sure why these humans were giving him such strange looks. Castiel leaned forward to the man, furrowing his brows and talking in that gruff voice of his.Why is your face contorted in such a manner? He asked, softly tilting his head. The man leaned back from him, so that his face wasn't nearly as close.

Just leave. Freak. The man swiveled back on his stool and took a long drink of whiskey. Castiel promptly did as told, figuring it would be best to listen to the lower being than not. He quickly left, wondering how exactly he would get around. His trench coat loosely flowed away from him in the bitter cold winds, although Castiel didn't take notice of the cold much. Sure, Jimmy was probably freezing. But he didn't mind it. He glanced around the busy street, calling on one of his brother's to ask for help in finding the one he was supposed to be looking for.

'Corner Stone Avenue, Cherry Maid Bar; Apple Martini, corner table.
'Thank you, brother.'

Castiel fazed out, reappearing at the door of the bar. He closed his eyes, slowly opening the door. The inside was warm, and rowdy. But sure enough, in the corner of the bar, at a lonesome little table, there was a messily cleaned man. Castiel walked towards him, sitting down in the seat across from his quest. RJ, I'm Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord. Stop drinking. Honesty was the one way Castiel could reach anyone. The filthy humans constantly lied, and manipulated to get what they wanted. But Castiel foolishly believed that he could get anything by telling the truth. He furrowed his brows at the man across from him, and he glanced at the drink he had. Cas quickly picked it up, tossing his head and downing it. He coughed a bit, the taste odd and tingly against his throat and his tongue.

[humdudgeon]

Quote:

Word Count: 966

F U - F U - [********] YOU
F U - F U - ******** YOU U P.

( I ' M xxa monster ) H A XXxxHAzzHA



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂




Today. Today. Today.

Today was the day. It had to be. Sam was falling, quickly. He was sinking deeper and deeper in the debt he had piling up. One little snort here, one little shot here, one little drag here. It all piled up into this... problem. Into this huge payment that he didn't have the time for. He didn't have the money for. And then he saw her. Cora. Cora, the big shot. Cora, the model. Cora, the wealthy. Sure, at first he had admired her from afar simply because of her stunning appearance. He enjoyed watching her smile, and laugh, and put on a pretty face for the shoots she was in. But he couldn't keep her there. He had to get that money. He had to get that ransom, and unfortunately for the both of them, Cora was the highest monkey in the banana tree to get the debt settled. She was the biggest star, and people would look for her.

And that's what Sammy needed. People would miss her. People would try to settle for her.

People would pay for her.

And that's exactly what he needed. His jobs fell out. His parents were too stoned to even give two shits about him. He was too stoned to barely give a s**t about himself. But then, he was cut off. Just like that. And then he used money he didn't have. And then, it just all fell out from underneath him. It got out of hand, and he was stranded in bills from people he couldn't piss off and then walk away from. He couldn't handle anything, anymore.

Sammy stretched his long arms over his bed as his alarm clock went off. His hair was tassled, and dark brown bags hung low underneath his eyes. He had barely been sleeping. Too many police sirens. Every single one, they seemed to be coming after him. Every single cop he saw seemed to be getting ready to sack him up and throw him in the slammer. But he couldn't go there, again. It had been two years of sober hell he had been through, he couldn't go back.

And today was the day where he would either succeed, or screw his entire life over. But success was far away. He saw heists, and ransoms set up. Not many made it through. Even if he did get the money, what then?

He was better off having drug lords kill him than going to jail.

But it was that little slim chance, or maybe succeeding. At least he got to meet her out of everything.

Sammy got up, tight cotton boxer briefs hugging his well toned legs. He adjusted them a bit, glancing at his caramel skin in the mirror. He did work out, just in case people sent little debt reminders over. Basically, to kick his a**. After a few weeks, he quickly figured out that he needed to keep fit so his teeth weren't knocked in. He quickly pulled on a loose striped v - neck, grabbing a very cliche grey hoodie. If you're going to kidnap someone, might as well stick to the movie stereotypes. Sam fit on some well fitting jeans, glancing at himself and taking a deep breath. Today. Today.

Today.

Duct tape. He had it. Rope. He had it. Chloroform. He had it. Studio badge. Had it.

Sammy's breath didn't relax much as he got closer to Cora's trailer, his badge around his neck, and his necessities in his pocket. He pulled his hood over his head, quickly knocking on the door. He waited a bit, slowly turning the knob in his shaking fists. "Ms.Cora?" Dear god, there she was. Beautiful as ever, casual. Amazing. Sam's breath took a swift hitch, and he softly closed the door behind him. Three, two, one.... He counted off in his head. And sure as day, there it was. The fire alarm. He softly listened to the people running across the concrete in mad dashes. Just some simple computer codes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. God, forgive me." Sammy softly whispered, dragging out a rag and pushing it over the model's mouth. He held the back of her head, her soft, luscious hair. He tangled his fingers in it a bit. It felt as beautiful as it looked. After Sam had held the rag over her mouth long enough to hit unconsciousness, he discarded it into his pocket, leaving no traces except for her cell phone as he tossed her over his shoulder.

It was a bumpy ride to the car. People frantically pushing him and passing him as he just walked calmly to the nonchalant Chevrolet. He plopped Cora down in the front seat, carefully driving to the deserted warehouse. He had many cellphones for the ransom calls. Many, many, many cellphones.

He carefully set her down on a leather couch he had fished for particularly for Cora. He wound her hands in duct tape a few times, as well as her feet. The reason of why he brought rope escaped Sammy's mind, but he didn't let it bother him as he made his rounds to the doors to seal each one off with a bike rack lock, steel. Painted a nice yellow for good measure. The building had no windows, or basements, but Sam made sure it was lit well with a few lights. He waited at the door for her to wake up, his head in his hands while he went over the day's events. Twenty four hours. He had to wait twenty four hours before he called anyone.

[ ooc;; sorry about the bit of godmodding. i just didn't want to toss back and forth. i hope this is good enough, and there is his clothes in the picture.

[humdudgeon]

Quote:

Word Count: 1,044

F U - F U - [********] YOU
F U - F U - ******** YOU U P.

( I ' M xxa monster ) H A XXxxHAzzHA



tab tab tab tab ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▂ ▂ ▂




There. The time had come for the abusive chemical to runs it's course. The time had come for that pretty little piece of skin to wake up. Sammy heard her frightened cries reverberating throughout the empty warehouse, the sounds bouncing through every air molecule the building had in it.

And it wrenched Sam's heart. It hurt his gut to hear her screaming, so much fear in that high pitched angelic voice. That was more fear that Sammy had wanted to hear in his lifetime. But what could he have done? "Oh, don't worry. Please stop crying, I just kidnapped you for ransom money." That seemed incredibly efficient, sure. Maybe if he was had half the insanity that a task such as this would require. But he knew fear. He knew being scared, and he knew that the only thing that would comfort fear was a warm shower, a comforting nap. Maybe. Fear manifested itself into the core of his heart; fear shook his nerves so much that every time he closed his eyes he couldn't help but jolt back into the sad little world he lived in.

There was nothing he could do to help that scared little girl Cora had taken ahold of her. He would make it so much worse than it needed to be, but he couldn't sit there. He wanted - needed, to comfort her pitiful cries. He knew the response before he even saw her frightened face. "Why are you doing this?" And, "Please just let me go." That was just about what every sane person would say. That's what he would've said, had the time ever arose where he was normal. Sam stood up, pushing himself off of the concrete. He had a stock room in the back that he had been preparing, just in case. He couldn't leave. He knew he couldn't leave. Witnesses. Swat teams. They all awaited him in that sad little world. Sam walked back to that storm shelter, grabbing a little deli sandwich and spring water. His hands trembled as he walked back, preparing himself to face her.

It was funny. He might have been more fearful than Coraline. Sammy was so scared. He was scared she would scream at him. So scared she would tell him he was a pile of pitiful s**t. So ******** scared that she would use every fiber of her being to insult him. He admired her so much. Her strength, the light that manifested itself within her. He admired her initiative. And he couldn't be any more nervous about how she would rate him, how she would look at him. But what is another way to rate, look at the very man that stole you away from society for money?

Sammy, legs wobbly and arms like rubber, opened the door to the darker room in the building. He kept his head down, his blonde hair softly brushing against his face. He sat down in the middle of the room, legs crossed. He didn't dare speak for the first few minutes, but gradually he lifted his head up to look at her. Look at the woman he had wanted since he saw her in a magazine.

"I brought you something, i-if you're thirsty." Sammy spoke hesitantly, unsure of his words with dwindling confidence. It was a few long, long minutes before he spoke again. "I know you won't forgive me, but I am sorry I had to wrap you up in my... affairs." He said, looking back to her. He stood, walking up with a bit more confidence and sitting down on the floor by the legs of the couch. Very slowly, he tentatively grabbed Cora's wrists, pulling out a swiss army knife and cutting away the duct tape. He didn't meet her eyes after that, but instead he put the food and water up on the couch beside her. Sammy scooted back on the floor a bit, finally making the decision to look up at her. He was in awe. She was so much more beautiful in real life, without the photoshop ruining her skin, or her figure. Without the computer graphics enlarging her eyes, or minimizing her waist to unhealthy portions. She was beautiful as a natural being, and not some barely-there computer paint project.

Sam pulled out his own sandwich from his endless hoodie pocket, unwrapping the saran wrap that bound it, and taking small bites off. He hadn't eaten in a couple days because his stomach never seemed to land on earth; it was stuck in the sky. He figured it would be best to nibble on something than nothing at all. He pulled out his own bottle of water, polluting it with the powder of a kool aid packet. He shook the bottle a few times, until the fine dust was no longer settling at the bottom. He took a swig off of it, wiping his mouth on his shirt so it wouldn't be stained red. He took another bite, stuffing the food into a single cheek. And afterwards, he decided it was time to take a risk. A rooky mistake. He already had little possibility of success, it wouldn't make a difference if he let go a bit.

"I'm Sam, if you want to know." He smirked. "Heh, you probably don't. Just the cruel-a** man who abducted you. Just figured if you were going to stay here, small talk would help. Maybe, ya' know. I've never been kidnapped, so I wouldn't know anything about that, but --" Sam paused. God, he was rambling. He was nervous, so he was filling his mouth with words and his head with ideas and discussions. "I know this must be hard for you, but I promise you're fine. I wouldn't dare to hurt you." Sam said, furrowing his brow a bit for sincerity. But, he might as well been lying to her. Why tell the truth now, when he already had gone this far to keep his tracks covered? Sam pulled his gaze away with a bit of resistance on his part, but he found himself focusing on the material of his jeans. If it was him in that leather chair, he would be doing anything but making casual conversation. Spitting, cursing, thrashing. Not talking.


[ ooc;; aw, thank you! c: