There was dust here, layers of dirt coating the unused furniture, but some time ago, the dust melted away. The couches began to look new again. The kitchen cupboards replenished themselves and the plothole in the closet began spinning once more ( Read more... )

It isn't a perfect day, but it is a beautiful one -- the sky is mostly blue and it's warm enough for comfort if one is dressed well. Joash Hawke took it upon himself to make this as good as possible; he's picked some small, grassy hill, dotted with wildflowers, and he's done his best to decorate it well without overdoing it. There are rows of ( Read more... )

Goldfish have memory spans of three seconds. Electra's always found this fascinating: she could take a goldfish out of water and watch it flop and gasp in her hand, drop it back into the bowl a second before it was about to die, and watch it recover, swimming up to her hand and giving it goldfish kisses less than ten seconds later ( Read more... )

*Enter one tall, rather ridiculously good-looking Warlord Prince. You might note that he's got a rather large pair of batlike wings, along with yellow eyes, a charmingly dangerous smile, and an Ebon-gray Jewel. Anyway, he'll look around and shrug, raising an eyebrow*

Well, this sure as hell isn't Kaeleer. I am Daemonar Yaslana.

Typist: It's ( Read more... )

*and here we have the 5'10" counterpart to the earlier arrival, his younger sister (she's 24), with curly brown hair and bright green eyes (though they're hidden behind glasses)* *she's humming Sit Down, John and, after pushing her glasses higher up on her nose, she'll smile ( Read more... )

Working at an advertising agency sometimes gives you perks: the occasional sojourn to an exotic location for commercial-shooting, for instance, or an expensive lunch on the company account. However, what you get most often is swag, and while Rhad usually hoards the product samples he can glean from work, with this particular item he's decided to ( Read more... )

*enter one (1) angel, Samarian, approximately sixteen, perhaps seventeen, years of age, of simply average height, blonde, with dark blue eyes* *she is clad in leather pants and a leather vest, with the typical Kiss, an amber crystal, in her arm (it isn't, of course, notable unless you've never seen one before), and there are, unlike all the rest of ( Read more... )

When he walks in, it is with a slight edge of determination, as if he has spent some time talking himself into doing this, yet is still very unsure if he wants to or not. He is dressed nicely, though not overly so, and a small iPod is hooked to his belt; its cord disappears into his hair, which hides his ears. His dark blue eyes flicker back and ( Read more... )

*he's tall if not overly so, about six feet, but he's compact and he's sturdy, and there's the definite feeling that there's power and more muscle than meets the eye lurking behind the bland exterior and slender frame -- he's smartly dressed in a dark red tuxedo (nothing flashy, or, at least, it's as understated as a red tuxedo can possibly be) ( Read more... )

Look! A puppy-boy enters -- he's got kind of floppy blond hair, shit brown eyes (that are actually kind of pretty, to the typist's chagrin), and he's not that tall for around here -- about 5'9". He clings to walls a bit, and he'll make his way to a comfortable chair and curl up in it, trying to look invisible*

Nicodemos Smith, son of Lamia -- he ( Read more... )