Raspy
New Member
Hello!
So, I'm on the search for long term, literate/adv.lit One on one F// (FxF) partners.
I'm quite new to this site, so I guess it would be appropriate to tell you a little about me first:
I'm a 23 year old full time student with a part time job living in California, majoring and working in graphic and web design. I have a cat. I've been writing for upwards of eight years, but I'd say the last two years have been very progressive for me in terms of writing quality. As far as what you can expect from me, I typically write at an 11th grade level and above, and I usually try to stay in the range of 700-1500 words. I'm pretty keen on always giving my role-play partner something to work with in terms of plot progression, and posting pretty regularly depending on my personal schedule.
Please keep in mind that outside of RP'ing as a hobby, I'm pretty much staring at a computer screen for upwards of 14 hours a day for school and work, and sometimes I like to do other things. That, on top of the quality of writing I'd like to deliver makes it so that you'd be getting more like 1-3 posts a week rather than 1-3 a day. Academia is at the top of my priorities, and life sometimes gets in the way. Patience is pretty key, and I'll extend you the same courtesy.
What I'm Looking For:
•Someone that can match me in terms of quality, though I'm not so picky with quantity so long as you give me at least three good paragraphs and something with which to progress a scenario. As a general rule of thumb, ≤300 words leaves something to be desired, and ≥2,000 is stepping towards long winded.
•OOC chat is very highly encouraged, whether through private messages, Skype, or gmail. If you'd like to see samples of my writing, please check the drop downs at the bottom of this post, as I'll probably ask for samples of your writing as well.
• Believable, flawed characters and stories are something I live for.
• Be 18+
What I'm into:
original stories and characters • romance • slow burns • angst • grit • betrayal • enemies to friends to lovers• ex-lovers • closeted characters • sarcasm • competitors • violence • danger • anxiety • darker themes • neighbors • roommates • unlikely pairings • coffee shop encounters • apocalyptic settings • alternate universes • mutual pining but they're both afraid to say something • contemporary/modern settings • "oh shit, i'm gay" • escapism • mutual distrust • bad decisions, worse outcomes • quarter life crises • badasses • flawed morals • southern/american gothic • a teeny bit of magic • bittersweet revelations •
What I won't do:
• smut, kinks, fetishes.
• Writers under the age of 18: It doesn't matter how well you write or how mature you are for your age, I'm just not comfortable with it.
• High Fantasy/ Period pieces: Not my thing right now, sorry.
• Kidnapping, rape, master/slave, other nonconsensual themes.
• High school & below
• Significant age gaps.
So, I'm on the search for long term, literate/adv.lit One on one F// (FxF) partners.
I'm quite new to this site, so I guess it would be appropriate to tell you a little about me first:
I'm a 23 year old full time student with a part time job living in California, majoring and working in graphic and web design. I have a cat. I've been writing for upwards of eight years, but I'd say the last two years have been very progressive for me in terms of writing quality. As far as what you can expect from me, I typically write at an 11th grade level and above, and I usually try to stay in the range of 700-1500 words. I'm pretty keen on always giving my role-play partner something to work with in terms of plot progression, and posting pretty regularly depending on my personal schedule.
Please keep in mind that outside of RP'ing as a hobby, I'm pretty much staring at a computer screen for upwards of 14 hours a day for school and work, and sometimes I like to do other things. That, on top of the quality of writing I'd like to deliver makes it so that you'd be getting more like 1-3 posts a week rather than 1-3 a day. Academia is at the top of my priorities, and life sometimes gets in the way. Patience is pretty key, and I'll extend you the same courtesy.
What I'm Looking For:
•Someone that can match me in terms of quality, though I'm not so picky with quantity so long as you give me at least three good paragraphs and something with which to progress a scenario. As a general rule of thumb, ≤300 words leaves something to be desired, and ≥2,000 is stepping towards long winded.
•OOC chat is very highly encouraged, whether through private messages, Skype, or gmail. If you'd like to see samples of my writing, please check the drop downs at the bottom of this post, as I'll probably ask for samples of your writing as well.
• Believable, flawed characters and stories are something I live for.
• Be 18+
What I'm into:
original stories and characters • romance • slow burns • angst • grit • betrayal • enemies to friends to lovers• ex-lovers • closeted characters • sarcasm • competitors • violence • danger • anxiety • darker themes • neighbors • roommates • unlikely pairings • coffee shop encounters • apocalyptic settings • alternate universes • mutual pining but they're both afraid to say something • contemporary/modern settings • "oh shit, i'm gay" • escapism • mutual distrust • bad decisions, worse outcomes • quarter life crises • badasses • flawed morals • southern/american gothic • a teeny bit of magic • bittersweet revelations •
What I won't do:
• smut, kinks, fetishes.
• Writers under the age of 18: It doesn't matter how well you write or how mature you are for your age, I'm just not comfortable with it.
• High Fantasy/ Period pieces: Not my thing right now, sorry.
• Kidnapping, rape, master/slave, other nonconsensual themes.
• High school & below
• Significant age gaps.
- Click for Other Prompts and Pairings
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Song Inspired
•Super Rich Kids - Frank Ocean ft. Earl SweatshirtMiscellaneous Pairings and Prompts
xTwo nihilistic, degenerate twenty somethings living the high life; one of which is an out and proud lesbian, the other closeted and pining. Both are trying to cover up their problems with excess provided by their parents, and self destructive behaviors provided by their friendly neighborhood dealer. Their yet to be defined relationship is muddled with sexual tension, unexpressed feelings, and conflicting statements. What follows is their reckless crash and stumble with adulthood
•Coxcomb Red - Songs: Ohiamight include: drug/alcohol use, morally questionable decisions
xThe novelty and excitement of a new relationship is barely even a memory. The buildup of wandering eyes, inconsiderate actions, and lost passions weighs on them. Though their relationship has become an unhealthy death grip based in the comfort of familiarity and fear of the unknown, both parties continue to struggle for a grasp on what brought them together in the first place, or what could possibly bring them back together after so much toxic buildup.
•Songs to set a particular mood
• well known public figures
• homebody + their popular best friend
• clean cut + counterculture
• hopeless romantic + cynic
• "well... that happened"
• "i'll move mountains and burn villages for you... but i won't do that"
• "what happens when young gods turn old?"
"Entropy"
once a millennium, two lovers - cursed to spend hundreds of years apart at a time - are allowed back together, if only for a very short time. it is said that their love splits the sky, runs fissures through the earth, turns the sea restless, and brings civilizations to their knees, and this is why they must spend so much time apart.
Agent + Assassin
Being an assassin is a full time job, but it's not really a full time job, so our assassin passes the rest of her time as a relatively normal, civilian worker bee bartending a few nights at the local dive. Being a government agent takes its toll, especially when you're tracking down a notorious killer, so a pau hana at said dive is like salvation for our agent. Blissfully unaware of each other's true occupations, they befriend, crush on, fall for one another. How far will they go before they find out about each other? How far can they take it before it all comes crashing down around them?
- Experimental/Anthology
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Heres an Idea: A short collection of exchanges which begin and come to a close relatively quickly (within 4 or 5 responses out of the each of us). As close to a "One Shot" as we can get in terms of one on one writing. Subtle world building, an array of universes - or perhaps the same one - and the chance to work with short term character development. Some of these might end sadly, or without a concrete resolution, and that's okay. Some of these might not involve a romance, that's okay too. You can choose to do one and be done with me, or choose to develop a little collection of stories - I'd be glad for either, and will deliver the same quality of writing regardless. I ask that you do the same.
Take your pick, and feel free to mix and match!*
Survivor + Bitten
A few years into the zombie apocalypse, these two are going strong. They've effectively evolved into the seasoned, zombie slashing survivalists that have overcome the end of days and are in it for the long haul. A freak accident results in one of them being bitten, and consequently infected with the zombie virus. This details possibly their last moments as a duoSuperhero + Undercover Immortal
Hancock Inspired! Yeah, the Will Smith Hancock. Hear me out: A lonely and cynical immortal superhero that can only remember the past hundred or so years of their life meets someone who turns out to be their literal soul mate. It's a miracle that comes at a cost: The longer they spend in each others' company, the weaker and less "immortal" they become - this means they are able to grow old together. But of course, the superhero has amassed a roster of dangerous enemies.Reincarnated Lovers
The 100 Fanfic Inspo! Judge me. Or read it, because this is an exceptional example of subtle world building in a one shot, and I strive for this."Bullets in My Bedroom"
"maybe they will sing for us tomorrow" by someonelsesheart
A few centuries after the apocalypse society has rebuilt, thanks in great part to the contributions of two historical figures whose alliance is widely known and studied. Two women with astounding similarities to these figures meet in the new world, and despite their unwillingness to admit it, are pulled together by an undeniable attraction.
You think you've found the one. She's considerate, she's well read and well spoken, she's into all the same things you are, and she's just as into you as you are into her. You're an assassin, and she's your target."Sold My Soul to the Devil"
A conversation with the Devil as to why you're selling your soul. Lucifer goes by Lucy, and she happens to be attractive and sooooper gay.
*While these prompts are presented as short term concepts, they can just as easily be long term plots - Fandoms
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I'm not a huge fandom roleplayer, but here are a few I'll consider. Note that I'll only play original characters.
• Avatar: The Last Airbender/ The Legend of Korra
• The 100 (TV Show)
• The Walking Dead
• Black Mirror: Ep.4 "San Junipero"*****
Technology has made it possible to temporarily upload your consciousness into a simulated reality of your choosing, each of which contains whole worlds in which you can find or do anything you desire. San Junipero is a coastal resort town which experiences clear skies and warm nights, day after day after day. There, you can manifest your body at any age (most choose their twenties and thirties), drive any car, eat any food, meet any of the plethora of other people that have uploaded their consciousness there as well. You can dictate where in the server you appear (The beach, a club, the mountains), into which generation (70's for the disco, 80's for the grunge, 90's for the discotheque pop), and how much physical pain you experience (Jump off a cliff for the hell of it, crash your car without consequence), although memories and emotions remain in tact. It ends after only a few hours, when you must return to reality if only until the next time you can upload. At the time of death of your worldly body, you can choose to permanently upload your consciousness into the server, to live and relive whatever idea of a perfect day you can come up with. This decision is absolute, and once the process is complete, is so eternal that you'll likely never know what the "other side" looks like.
Here are some samples!- Opposites attract pairing: Response Post
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It was liberating, putting on the mask of a badass.
And Lucy Mullen was decidedly so. Bigger than her bones, fierce and fearless in every aspect, an Amazonian warrior wrapped in Southern Americana. Lucy Mullen was selfish, impatient, honest to a fault, and unapologetic. She was a quick draw, with an eager trigger finger and a strong posture and a heavy step. Lucy was abrasive, she was loud, she wore her emotions on her sleeve and had a tongue that left scorch and ash in her wake. Lucy was brave.
Lucy Mullen was everything that, for the life of her, Jordan Pierce could not be. Jordan Pierce tiptoed where Lucy Mullen stormed in and announced herself. Lucy was stubborn and hardheaded where Jordan was quick to maneuver and compromise. Jordan didn't wish to be Lucy in her real life, or even emulate her, of course not; Lucy was too much of a presence to be walking down the 3rd Street Promenade to seem remotely normal, and the last thing Jordan needed to feed into was a certain lesbian label. Anything too specifically gay in her real life was - according to Jordan's publicist - off brand and bad for business. So what Lucy Mullen was to Jordan in her real life, was cathartic. Lucy was a release, a way for Jordan to scream and stomp, and maybe go a little overboard stabbing into a bleeding dummy. She was a bright color in Jordan's admittedly monochromatic scheme of life, with her fiery personality and southern twang. Lucy Mullen was Jordan's best work to date, and the actress had been in the industry more than a decade. It went without saying that Jordan was supremely serious about her character work on the show, so much so that at times she got carried away and became Lucy completely. Jordan wouldn't call herself a method actor, but Lucy was so easy to put and keep on.
So when Sophia shuffled into the trailer, Lucy answered. And to the girl she was potentially supposed to be falling in love with, no less.
Green eyes fluttered as the brunette called out a tentative hello, up and away, coincidentally, from the lines of stage direction instructing Jordan to look at Sophia's character with a 'curious wonder'. Idly, Jordan noted that if the expression she put on in the scene matched the one she wore now, that particular shot would only need one take. Lips parted, eyes wide and almost childlike, breath caught - the actress was the epitome of awestruck.
Until Sophia uttered some dry joke about her looking terrible. The brief moment of mutual examination was over, and the sour taste of a reluctant introduction coated Jordan's tongue. Calloway might as well have been dragged in by her manager and reciting her words through grit teeth. Despite the obvious tension that Sophia brought into her trailer, Jordan put on an amicable smile.
"Oh, I know who –" She cleared her throat, as if to swallow down the southern accent she had begun with, and tried again in her native inflection, "I'm well aware of who you are, Sophia. You're all anybody's ever asking me about these days." Jordan stood, stepping towards her new costar with a posture that wasn't quite hers. She had only shed the last of Lucy when she was toeing the border of what was socially accepted as Sophia's personal space. Her following words sounded as cold and as practiced as her interviews: "I'm glad to finally meet the girl everyone's so excited about."
Jordan held her smile as she studied the woman up close now. With striking blue eyes, dark hair, full lips, and a model-esque scowl, she could willingly admit that Calloway was objectively, classically beautiful. It was just... everything else about the actress that left something to be desired. The way she spoke, the way she held herself, the obvious disdain for anything that wasn't a mirror or a cell phone camera in selfie mode. It reminded Jordan of a child actor she'd once had to work with, who saw himself as a god because everybody treated him as one. With the slight tilt of her head, she wondered who it was Sophia thought worshipped her.
Internally, she chided herself for projecting her negative preconceptions of the woman onto her in only their first meeting. They had a long process ahead of them, most of which they would more than likely be spending exclusively with each other. To start off with such a toxic idea of someone she would undoubtedly have to spend so much time with was definitely not a good idea, especially considering she'd soon have to convince the world that their characters were in love with each other. Who was Jordan not to give Sophia the benefit of the doubt? After all, it was the girl's first day on the job, surrounded by people she didn't know, in a place probably wasn't familiar with, working in a genre she didn't have previous experience with. Sophia was more than likely aware of what her life looked like to outsiders and adopted an air of cynicism for it. The jab at Jordan's social life was let slide with no more reaction than the flex of her jaw and the very slightly annoyed flutter of her lashes, passing the attitude off as Sophia's defense mechanism in the face of an unfamiliar situation.
"I'm kind of a weirdo when I'm drunk so I try to avoid those kinds of situations... so no, not really." She admitted, trying to add some mirth to her sorry attempt at self deprecation. Unfortunately, it came out sounding so pathetically honest that the humor fell short. In the following silence, Jordan cleared her throat and tried changing the subject, "Let's go get some coffee at crafts before our shoot time, I'm sure that'll help with the hangover."
Jordan's suggestion was more of an order, as the woman immediately turned on her heel and lead the way down the three steps it took to get out of the trailer, steps suddenly as dainty and ladylike as she could manage in a pair of workboots. She held the door open and looked up expectantly at the other actress, very suddenly thankful for the space between them that she had forgone inside the trailer. A small part of her wished that she just had the guts to stand her ground before this new person, who was all aloof postures and challenging looks and dry and biting humor. Jordan reasoned with herself that confrontation at any scale was not part of her public persona, and that she needed to be careful around someone who made their life so available. But be it because she was too concerned with how she was viewed, too unsure of the situation, or just downright scared of an early confrontation, she had fled and that was that.
- Hades x Persephone: Response Post
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"Who in the world do you think you are, driving around at ungodly hours swimming in wine?! Do you realize what you could have done?" Persephone hissed, unfazed for the most part by the fact that Hades was too engrossed in her new surroundings to be paying attention. Of course it would take the luck of a God for somebody as obviously inebriated as Hades to make it across town in a shiny new sports car unscathed. She probably couldn't say so much for the woman's driving record if traffic sensors were part of the conversation, but in terms of what the mortal Hades was worth, she figured it would the issue would be chump change, and a moot point considering all the incarnations and forms that a god could take.
One of her hands found her hip, the other gesturing wildly about as Persephone went on in her tirade, "And you didn't even have the decency to call first?! I know you know how to use a cell phone, I saw you using one at the shop today while you were ignoring me – which seems to be a talent of yours! I swear to the Gods I — Wha.. what.. what are you doing?!"
Persephone sputtered her disbelief when the woman dropped to her hands and knees, happy to pay more attention to the cat than a ranting goddess. She stared down, wide eyed and slack jawed as the other went about coddling Zephyr, too in shock to laugh about the fact that Hades, the first of the ruling Olympians, the Goddess of death and riches and the God-queen of the entirety of the underworld - presumably more vast than even the mortal realm Zeus ruled - was on all fours for an overweight feline. Persephone wondered if the other gods would find the sight as simultaneously shocking and hilarious (and oddly endearing) as she did.
She was snapped out of her stupor when Hades looked up to address her, referring to her with a name that felt unusually familiar. But... Seph? Nobody called her by that name, not the closest of her friends among the nymphs, none of the other gods, and especially not her mother, who insisted calling her by her full name every time. In fact, Persephone in this mortal form went by, and had explicitly introduced herself as 'Perry' to the woman she thought was just another mortal, so where in the world would she get a nickname like Seph? She attributed the odd heaviness in her chest to her lack of breathing after being so worked up just seconds earlier, and a misplaced jealousy when she witnessed Zephyr let the woman pick him up and tote him over to the couch.
"He won't even let me do that..." She huffed, her tune much akin to that of an envious child watching someone have more fun with their things than they were. She grumbled incoherently and rounded the old couch, only to snatch up the remote to shut off the tv and cut off another remarkably timed laugh track.
Persephone frowned down at the Goddess of Death, sunk into old cushions with a woeful expression, rogue orange fur already clinging to her previously immaculate blazer. As she mumbled out her answer and following musing, Perry couldn't help but to feel sympathy for the woman, who was distracting herself with Zephyr as if she were the subject of some tragic breakup and he was an excuse not to make eye contact while she expressed her misery. Goodness, it was half a date, if that at all. Rejection, it seemed, was something Hades took personally. Well, at least she wasn't as outright psycho or murderous as the courters Aphrodite managed to turn away on a daily basis.
Except, maybe Persephone was wrong about the murderous part. She let out a noise of disbelief before shaking her head at the woman's suggestion she kill Perry's landlord, "No! For the love of the Gods, you don't need to add that poor old man to the mess of souls you've left down there," She groaned, bringing both her hands up to rub at her temples.
Persephone wanted nothing more than to throw Hades to the street and believe that this was all just some ploy to trick the young goddess into following the woman into the underworld, but there was no faking the stench of wine and pity wafting off of her; Hades sitting on her couch, barefoot and slouching and pampering Zephyr, looked so inexplicably human that Persephone couldn't bare the guilt of kicking her out, ulterior motive or not. With a heaving sigh, Perry stomped into her room, emerging again with a pillow and a blanket, which she dumped next to the Goddess. The suddenness of it sent Zephyr scrambling away, though the look on Perry's face suggested she wasn't so sorry for it.
"You're spending the night." Persephone said with some finality, hands on her hips as if to impose some authority over the Goddess of the Underworld, "And give me your keys. There's no point in kicking you out if you're just gonna get back in your car and drive away, and even you don't have enough dumb luck not to drive into a pole like an idiot." Persephone waited all of a toe-tapping beat before she took it upon herself to reach into the woman's pockets on her own, only to find the keyless key fob emblazoned with a silver triton. She'd find the irony of it enough to tease Hades about later, but for now all the woman got was a grumbled, "of course it's push to start..." before she was thrown a hasty "Goodnight." and Persephone stomped back into her bedroom and her door swung closed.
There were a few silent beats before Persephone came stomping out again, only to snatch up the paper bag of dolmades Hades had earlier used as a peace offering, then disappear back into her room, door swinging shut again. Persephone would munch away in silence for only a few more short moments before a loud and displeased Zephyr came crying and pawing at her door, upset that he had been left out. The young goddess groaned and hefted herself out of her bed to open the door, looking down at the large orange tabby expectantly even as the cat firmly planted himself in between the rooms, looking up at her with very much the same expression.
"In or out?" Persephone demanded around a mouthful of rice. It was met only with a few flicks of the tabby's tail, to which she gave a resounding, "Ugh!!" before turning on her heel and throwing herself back into bed, leaving the door open, and letting the fact that the Gods were subject to the will of cats go uncommented.
- Vampire x Human: Intro Post
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"She'll forget about you eventually. Move on, grow old, die. That sort of thing. Our kind have great memories for feelings like you had, sure, but they're memories from the old you. They'll fade quickly with time, the feelings, the memories. Besides, you're onto bigger and better things now. Women that won't age in the blink of an eye, who understand what it's like to be you, who can teach you and show you more things than some silly twenty-something that would only hold you back in this life. Trust me. It's better this way."
A buzz sounded off somewhere near a brunette haired woman, the quick precursor to a bright light and cheery chirp emanating from a phone screen that pulled steely green eyes from their fixed position on a dimly lit ceiling. With a huff through parted lips, she turned, blinked the reverie from her mind, and tapped the offending screen, indicating a fifteen minute snooze. Her eyes found a fixed spot on the wall she faced now, going unfocused as she pondered over the choice words she was delivered: ' — they're memories from the old you. They'll fade quickly with time, the feelings, the memories...' She remembered the words as if they were recited yesterday. Had it been just yesterday? No, it had to have been months now. Years even. Her first memories from her first days reborn.
She knew time was a construct of the mind, that it only moved as fast as she did; but it seemed like she was going full speed these days, and still it was as if those feelings and memories were running alongside her no matter how fast she went. Memories of soft hands, welcoming arms. Memories of furrowed brows, downturned and trembling lips. Silly lines and even sillier grins. Anguish and venomous words. Bare skin bathed in ambient light. Fabricated monologues, tear-streaked cheeks. Deft fingers, quivering thighs —
"Oh, Lillian..." A child's voice cooed in a sing-song tone from the entrance of the room, sweet and eerie, cutting through the stifling silence once presiding, "Your presence is requested." For a child, their voice was awfully formal and carried the articulate and archaic lilt heard these days in period piece films. The boy, looking to be no more than ten despite his manner of speaking, stood still and statuesque in the dark, staring over at her with wide eyes. It would be a sight that would horrify her if she weren't already tormented by it almost daily.
This interruption from her musings earned nothing but another huff, followed by movements to check the phone, then another huff when informed of the ten minutes she'd still had left of the snooze. Yet, the woman did not argue, instead pushing herself into a seated position and throwing off the covers she had previously nested herself in, "Kid, you're the kind people write horror stories about." She murmured dryly, her humor lost on the boy. Lillian grunted quite roughly, swinging her legs off the edge of the mattress before padding over to a massive window and pulling the curtains open to a south facing view of the New York City skyline painted in dull oranges and blues. Lillian took a quiet moment to mourn the sunset she would never again witness before turning back the the pale, cherubic boy that had been sent for her.
"Why am I needed? I don't work until ten. It's barely seven."
"You don't work today. It's Thursday... The thirtieth," He said as if there were some significance to the date, though he seemed to have distracted himself with some knick-knack he currently was turning around in his hands. The boy looked up only to be met with an aggressively confused expression, and answered it with an equally irritated one, "It's your birthday, you oaf. Now get dressed and go downstairs." With that he turned on his heel and stomped his way out the door, taking aforementioned knick-knack with him.
"What are you talking about my birthday's not till Augu – Oh." The woman, already slight in stature, seemed to shrink in on herself as she stared after the boy. She was silent, stopping even the reflexive rhythm of her breathing. She stood in a massive room, decorated minimally, contemporary, some would even say comfortably. The white marble of the floors and walls were painted gold from the sunset flooding in through the newly opened windows, reflecting off shiny vases and frames. It was all decorated very richly, but much like a prison cell the room was severely lacking in personal affects, "Two years already, huh." She'd let the date slip from her mind, and last year she'd been too drunk on her new life to realize. Too busy indulging and ravaging and killing.
Lily was silent and alone until she appeared downstairs, clad in a black dress that clung to porcelain skin from her collarbones down, then spilled from her hips and onto the floor in a pool of black fabric. Black lace snaked from her chest down to her wrists but opened up at the expanse of her back only to swoop back down to the dimples just above the swell of her backside. Brunette colored curls had been tamed, slicked back and falling just to the bottoms of her shoulder blades. Lillian was all sharp cheekbones, defined jawline, and model-esque scowl. Downstairs happened to be seventeen floors down, and a massive nightclub (or the main hub for various underground business, depending on which entrance you used), rumbling with the incessant kick of bass regardless of where you stood. Currently, Lillian stood in the center of a comparatively quiet room overlooking the club, surrounded by a dozen or so men and women all dressed as extravagantly as her. All sitting on furniture and sipping red liquid from crystal goblets as expensive as the clothes they wore. All more ethereal and alien-like in their beauty than the next. She accepted half hearted birthday greetings with nothing more than a polite nod or quiet thanks, looking quite bored as she did so. Lillian's demeanor shifted, and she straightened her already prim posture when approached by a man more dangerously beautiful than the rest, who greeted her with flourish and kissed her cheeks with such theatrics it was like he worshipped her, except the expressions on the people's faces around them made it clear that he was the one to be worshipped.
"My Lillian, my beautiful. My youngest child, how the pride swells in my chest at the sight of you on this day," He swept his arms with movements of grandeur as he spoke, using the same archaic accent as the boy she spoke with earlier. He took her face gently in his thin hands, regarded her almost too genuinely for a moment, then turned to address the small crowd, some of whom appeared younger than Lillian despite his statements, "Just last year your very own sister was wild, lost, ravenous. I had nothing but faith in her, but even I doubted her self discipline in those times. Now witness her in her splendor today! Rejoice my children, this day is a blessing we will celebrate." With his hand at the small of her back, he led Lillian through the chorus of congratulations to a glass sliding door which he flung open, letting music spill in. They stopped at the edge of the balcony overlooking the already crowded club,"Celebrate, child. Maybe... at least find some human for the night who will change that sorrowful expression you burden me with so."
At this point, Lillian did nothing but smile and nod politely. With that, the man gave her a flourishing bow and left her alone on the balcony, presumably to take her pickings. This woman, who earlier was so quick with her dry humor and stubborn tongue, was reduced to nodding and smiling in the presence of this man. This woman would eventually stalk down to the writhing and bouncing bodies just below, take some willing human woman by the hand, if only to take her upstairs for the show of it, then kill her and never think of her again. This woman would not disobey the man, no matter how she wanted to retreat back to her room and sulk on this day alone, no matter how nicely he spoke or gently he suggested things be done. But the night was young yet, and the throngs of bodies crowding the club would grow more dense, and Lillian would bask in her aloneness for as long as she could up on the balcony. Her eyes scanned the bodies, finding within them the lowly drug dealers or traffickers that, like her, were only acting under nice words and gentle suggestions.
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