The shadows around the entrance shifted; and a wolf stepped in to join the bar mayham. A wolf? Yes, a wolf, and it was clear he'd already been in a fight earlier. Scrapes, cuts, and gashes marred his once sleekly groomed body, flesh torn back and away- what was left clung to his thin, gaunt frame, and it seemed that something had tried to eat him - his shoulders were horribly gnawed at, the skin and fur bitten away to expose bone and still-bleeding muscle. And the reason for his limp was evident: his right paw had been taken and twisted back at a gruesome angle, then snapped to the side- now it was practically dangling from a single thread of muscle and bone. A whine slid from his scarred muzzle, as he viewed the melee involving fire, a man, and a woman, eyes narrowing the moment the shouting began. Humans, Paranormal thought in disgust, [i]How typical of them!
Repo bristled on my shoulder, and I followed her LED eyes to a very abused looking wolf just now coming in. I grunted my recognition and turned back to the prints, scribbling down some dotted lines over the diamond-shaped... thinger I had drawn, a rep of the missile. I was sick of the rocket design- give me a good spear outline, and you got a happy Twitch on your hands.
I shoved the cap of my marker pen in my mouth, gnawing the silver plastic. Very primal, yes, especially for someone from 2059- long past the cavemen, by my mark, but don't mind my habits. I blew another red lock out of my face and tilted my head, twirling the sheet of blue paper on its tip. Huh... if I.... scratched that... then that... was more... fluid. My thoughts started and stopped with my motions.
I felt a smile flicker across my face- a smirk, really, when did I ever actually smile? My thoughts flew to Mark, the bumbling blonde, and color flooded my face. I swallowed, prayed he wasn't going to walk in anytime soon, and dropped Repo in my bag. Poor robo kitty looked like she was about to explode. Didn't blame her- the wolf was looking right at her.
My hands fluttered to the outside of my pocket, tracing the outline of my shiny new fake ID subconsciously. This was great- Pop Control couldn't arrest Claire Purey, first child to a single mother, if even she looked exactly like... and there lay the age old annoyance of me not knowing my name. I grumbled briefly, some random gibberish, I'm certain, and turned back to the blue paper.
hey, Jude, don't make it bad take a sad song and make it better remember to let it into your heart then you can start to make it better.
Cleo(from my stories. Background info, in case u want it: he has a dragon;but it probably won't come in the story a lot is anything.he can use magic. ALOT. and he likes to show off his fighting skills with it.)
Smoothing my short, blond hair that floated to my shoulders, I walked into the bar, and shrugged at the wolf. I was used to more... extremes. Like Koi, the fish who gives riddles and is the moon. My cool, purple eyes scanned the surroundings. Several people cluttered around a bar the was built for less. I leaned against the bar, and the bar tender looked expectantly.
"A cola, please." I asked.
"What? I find it offensive that you don't like my beer without even tasting it."
"I'm sober." He shrugged, and brought me my drink of choice after quite a wait. Next to me was this girl with an orb in her hands. She stared intently at the lady across from her, who returned a bored expression.
"Magic?" I asked her. They broke they're glare.
"In a way, yes. Shadows." She replied, seemingly nice.
"You duel?" I asked nonchalantly.
"It depends. I wouldn't fight a stranger."
"In that case, I'm Cleo. You?"
"Larii,"
"You have an ironic name. Do you know what it means in Zornoun?"
"Never heard of it."
"It means shadow." She shrugged.
"Do you want to fight now? You know, one person gives up and we stop. For fun, ya know?" I asked.
"Fantasy is a way of looking through the wrong end of the telescope."
"The writer who breeds more words than he needs is making a chore for the reader who reads!"
I shoved open the tavern door, my dark grey eyes like the cluttering storm clouds that had gathered in the sky. I scanned the enterior, smirking at how crowded the bar was and I strutted forward. My stilleto's clicking on the hardwood floor while my short dress brushed my thighs as I shoved against a woman, (Cleo), and seated myself on the stool. The bartender looked at me with expectant eyes, "Want can I get for you?" he asked, his voice was rough as he spoke and his large hands reached for a glass on the shelf behind him. "I'll have a glass of coke." I reply, but with his eyes hard on me I shrug. "Make it a shot of vodka. Three." I tell him instead, sighing. If I was drunk again, I'd be screwed. I wouldn't have a ride home again since my suposed boyfriend left me stranded on the street nearby. The slap of glass against the countertop jolted me from my reverie, "Here." and I reached for one of the three glasses and tossed it back and letting the drink burn as it went down my throat more slowly than usual. "God!" I groaned, rather loudly considering the amount of people nearby me. I swallowed and my eyes stung, I leaned forward and put my head in my hands, the smell of vodka wafting up my nostrils from the glasses infront of me.
To fly away on gossamer wings, sheer as night's reflective glow, I would could I cradle child hecate to my breast.
I walked into the bar. I was hoping on banging open the door, having a flash of lightning in the background, and looking awesome, but I tripped. Everyone laughed, so I stunned someone with my wand. " Gimme a firewhiskey." I said to the bartender. " No, don't have any." He looked bored. " Then give me a **** whiskey!" I sipped at my whiskey then left to kill another dark lord.
I tossed another glass of the firey liquid down my throat, letting it burn on it's way down while I looked around. I suddenly noticed that the woman I'd supposedly bumped into was a man. Holy, lord. I must have drunken something on my way here... I tapped the man on the shoulder, hoping maybe he'd give me some cash for my next round of shots. "Excuse me?" I pull out my I'm helpless card and flutter my eyelashes a bit. I was drunk , so I'm not too sure whether this looked good or anything. "Could you spare a twenty?" I asked, while my cat tail stirred under my skirt. I froze, careful not to move my eyes away from him.
To fly away on gossamer wings, sheer as night's reflective glow, I would could I cradle child hecate to my breast.
I mumbled something under my breath before digging in my pockets, searching for some money that maybe I'd forgotten I had. The bartender sent me a look, "What're you lookin' for miss?" he asked but I waved a dismissive hand and ignored him.
Anne-Mey
I stumbled into the tavern, my eyes red and sore from crying. I'd just been dumped nearby in an alley and my former boyfriend had brought some of his friends and had beaten me. My body ached with every step, my face was a mask of angry purple bruises and my lip was cracked and bleeding. I stumbled over to a seat and placed my head in my hands and sobbed.
To fly away on gossamer wings, sheer as night's reflective glow, I would could I cradle child hecate to my breast.
"Are you ok?!?!" I asked the girl. "Look at me." SHe shook her head, but looked anyways. Placing both hands on her, I healed her face. "What happened? I need a...?" I asked her.
"I'm fine."
"What do you want?" I asked, more demanding. She sniffled.
"A coke, maybe."
"A coke over here!" I called. I felt bad for lying to the other girl, but I didn't This girl needed help. The drink came quickly. A smashing chair drew my attention.
"Fantasy is a way of looking through the wrong end of the telescope."
"The writer who breeds more words than he needs is making a chore for the reader who reads!"
I sighed. "Really, Reps? A chair?" I scooped the cat around the middle, wound a length of the metal thread I'd brought along around the bits of chair, and clicked my controller. <action://repair//return//initiate//</action> was typed in a great speed, and the thread pulled itself tight, bonded the edges back together, and then the steel thread was wound around my hand again.
"Nice, Repo. Makin' me pull out the thread." I narrowed my eyes at her, slipped her into the bag, and tied a scarf around it, as well as buckling it.
I looked up at the people staring.
"What? She's restless!"
hey, Jude, don't make it bad take a sad song and make it better remember to let it into your heart then you can start to make it better.
Morwen a witch from my current story who is 23, hair as red as flames, and is 4'9.
I stumbled in from the pouring rain outside. taking my thick black jacket off i slipped into a stool at the bar. " hi keep lets see, how 'bout a nice glass of your best Riesling" i looked around and spoted the cat being shoved into a bag and it being tied closed
"what" he had said " shes restless!"
"well that doesnt mean you should just go shove it in a bag!" i got up and unbuckled and tied the bag and got the cat out and calmed it down," now was that to hard?" I walked back over to the bar"do you mind ?" i asked the bartender nodding towards the cat, he said no and i resumed my seat.
i looked down the counter at the young lady trying to get a twenty off of this man, who looks an awful 'lot like an accountant, by "flirting" with him.
"life is too important to be taken seriously"- Oscar wilde
