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  Arania August 2, 2022 at 1:48am

  Another notable contrast was the pairs’ hands. Callouses crested at the base of her fingers and palms, rough from years of farm work, yet his hands were softer than the finest grains of desert sand. Despite the difference, she couldn’t help but feel comfortable at his careful touch, the tension building within unwinding at each kind word and look he gave her. 

  Saphir also wasn’t expecting to melt at this much genuine compassion from such a wealthy businessman. Those incredibly rich or in power were often depicted as above all, even above others and their suffering. Yet, his amazing content of character was written in the gentle manner he spoke, and powerful way he held himself. The more and more he answered, the more eager Saphir became to listen. Victor came off to be at heart to be a philanthropist, and it took her aback a bit, threw her more off guard than before. Every kind word made her a little bashful, a little more soft.

  However? She wasn’t the only one thrown off guard, and she could see it in the uneasy glances that Victor had  tossed behind her. While the deeper in conversation they went and her walls went down, his slowly came up, evident in his distracted speech pattern. His sudden alertness at their environment sounded off some alarm in her head. Initially she was mistaken and thought she might have something on her face, “you seem distracted, chocolate or something on my chin?” and she wiped away. 

  Then she’d start to notice how he glanced over her shoulder and turned her head to follow that sharp gaze of his. Instantaneously, Saphir made eye contact with one of the men watching them and almost froze up, body tense, until Victor brought up moving location. “Yes, that would be nice, Serenity sounds… peaceful. Something you don’t find often in a city like this!”

   Then she thought back to what he said. “Hurt me?” Her eyebrows knitted in confusion, creasing her forehead in worry. “Why would someone want to hurt me?”

   A waitress came by, smiling wide for a tip, cutting whatever Saphir would say next. “Will that be all for today? All on one tab, right?” The waitress asked clear and concise. 

  The men noticed how they were getting ready to leave, and the one who made eye contact with Saphir and was the one who didn’t even bother playing with his food to trick Victor, swiftly made his way over with an urgent smile.

  “Excuse me gorgeous, and sir, I hope I’m not causing too much discourse as you make your way to leave the public eye,” he pulled out a business card, his fingers coiling around Saphir’s wrist as soon as the waitress tried grabbing Victors attention, and shoved it in her palm before Saphor jerked back, away from the stranger and backing up into Victor. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, breath quick with adrenaline. 

  He held his hands up, going “ah ah ah! Don’t worry, I wouldn’t hurt you.” 

  The mans eyes look over to Victor, as if assessing him, then his attention back to Saphir. His eyes seemed almost hungry and most definitely predatory as they combed her over. 

  “I just couldn’t help but notice this young beautiful thing here, and I know a new New Yorker when I see one,” he smiled, teeth on display and pearly white as a sharks. “I’m Michael Vegara, local photographer, and I also just know undiscovered talent when I see it.” He spoke fast, leaving no room for response. “Darling, you’re it.” His slick tongued words earned a skeptical look that made him frown a bit. 

  “I get it, you’re in a rush, I am too, so I’d just look me up and give me a call when you want to meet up… miss…” His eyes flickered to the poster, then to Saphir. “I’m assuming Collosae? I’ll look you up first if you don’t reach back.” He gave a dark chuckle, trying to make it sound like a joke, then turned on his heel, grabbing his much slower colleague.

  Saphir looked up at Victor, her eyes wide almost a bit distraught, and truly at a loss of words. Her lips parted open like a fish out of water due to surprise and clamped shut as soon as the man was out of sight. The business card was offered up to Victor, and her eyes fluttered a bit as she tried to process what had just happened. Saphir then rubbed a bit at where her wrist was grabbed, then quickly put away her posters. 

  “That was uncomfortable… that can’t be normal here?” Her voice wavered in uneasiness as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Strangers just grabbing others?” 

   
• 

  Zachary Silva July 30, 2022 at 2:47am

  Celebratory parties call for an open bar and inconspicuous group meetings in the bathroom. Zach hardly bats an eye when a teammate returns sniffling and with his pupils blown wide. When the man slaps Zach's shoulder in greeting, Zach has to focus on not spilling his beer. He frowns at the liquid as it sloshes the sides of the glass. Undeterred, the teammate directs Zach across the room with a guiding hand splayed on his upper back. He goes quickly but is still frowning.

  "Zachie, Zach-Zach-Zach, you know I love you, right?" Zach's frown deepens at the obnoxious nickname. "You're my soul-brother," the man chirps in Zach's ear. The concept makes the redhead cringe. "You're high," he replies flatly, an unamused but gentle stare pinning on the other. After a quick sigh, the teammate stops and grips Zach by the shoulders. Menouvers him until they stand face-to-face. "The drugs give me the strength to be honest. I fucking love you." And Zach can't help but laugh.

  Moments like these are when he almost forgets all about the looming shadow. If only it wouldn't practically breathe down Zach's neck. The imposing figure is a thin humanoid shadow seemingly made of black wisps of smoke. It towers over Zach - a tall man in his own right - forcing it to hunch forward to remain at eye level with others. Wherever Zach goes, it follows; never moving before Zach does and never allowing any breathing space between them. It is not a ghost nor a demon.

  Fuck, he thinks, I need to drink more if Alex is going to cling to me all night.

  Eventaully, Zach is given a moment of reprieve. He's a few beers deep and standing in the far corner of the hotel bar. All the chairs are unoccupied as attendees of the celebratory party preferred to loiter near the center of the room. He tucks his back against the wall and retrieves his phone from his back pocket. Scrolls through it as he taps his fingers on his glass then glances back at the people at the party. He does not know everyone here. There are promoters, investors, party girls for hire, and other mingling individuals. He could really use a distraction from the entity.
• 

  Arania July 29, 2022 at 2:00am

  The Alantic ocean breeze blew in over New York, carrying the smog of the city with it. Moss struggled to grow inbetween cracked pavement, and people trampled over eachother on cement sidewalk, yapping away on their phones or looking straight ahead, never at eachother. The tar of the hot road, carbon deposit left by traffic and sirens wailing wasn't particulary appeasing to the average person, but it all was something someone could adjust to when dazzled by the artificial lights everywhere. Walking down the street was someone who had clearly not been to a city this large, a young pretty thing with dark blonde hair and dark, wide eyes. She looked lost, until she looked down at a journal she held open, then up at the doors of a cafe, entering with short lived gusto. 

  It was a little cafe she had researched up on the interent, with out door seating perfect to watch bussers play music on their buckets and makeshift guitars. Saphir wasn't here for the street music or culture, sadly, made apparent by the far away look in her eyes. When she entered, she didn't dart to a table or make her way to the counter. The very first thing Saphir did was hang up a poster in the back, near the bathroom. It had a man's picture on it - he had features similar to her, like the big dark eyes and waves in her blonde hair. If she genuinely smiled, it'd be wide like his smile. Underneath was his name, (Joshua Phillip Soteria) and the date of his dissapearance (July 4rth), was a single plea. "Please contact 206 - xxx -xxxx. It's his daughter, she desperately wants him back." She had more posters in the bag that hung off her shoulder, but didn't bother pulling them all out. Just that one stood out with the bright red ink that spelled out Missing. When she tore herself away from the pin board of posters and business cards, that far away look in her eyes didn't go away.

  Even with food set infront of her by a cafe worker, she didn't eat, but rather looked all around her, chest rising with deep breaths. Her legs crossed, a dainty golden chain hanging off her ankle. Saphir's whole outfit had been carefully chosen when she did her research on the company who was on the other side of her email coorespondences. It seemed large and proffessional, nothing she had ever seen in the outskirts of Reno. It left an impression on her that she intended to return. Saphir's efforts to match a more business casual fashion had paid off - she wore black flats, a business skirt, a spagetti strap top that was some sort of silk and thin gold jewelry, hair up and out of her face. While her outfit seemed effortless, her face was tired, circles under her eyes that concealer couldnt hide, and nails bitten out of an anxious habit. Those same fingernails tapped on her knees in anxiety, as she glanced at the clock. 
  
  Saphir had gotten there early, so instead of waiting around with her stomach in knots, she set up the table a bit, leaving space for food and drink. She pulled out the emails her father had sent, the ones she couldn't decode that spoke about her, and his photo. Her motions seemed frantic and disorganzied. In the process of trying to make it more organized, she managed to knock over the coffee she had ordered everywhere. "Oh, oh no," she reached over to grab the cup off the floor, coffee spilling over onto her bag, and pulling onto the edge of the table. Cheeks turned red with embaressment as she turned to spot the time, realizing whoever she'd meet would be there any moment. 
• 

  Oliver Harker July 23, 2022 at 8:15am

  (I beg your pardon that it is so delayed. Hopefully, you can work with this. If not, I can make another, and send this to someone else. Recycling. Hehe)

  Beyond the horizon, a falling sun gives leftover light to the shimmering haze of man’s putrid pollution, and, in the far-off distance, the silhouette of a metropolitan skyline pierces through the warm glow of an overdue evening like a jagged mountain ridge; an incredible, breathtaking view, in its own right. But the young wolf Oliver had never been one to stop and take in the scenery. An everlasting fire was light underneath the lad’s feet as well as his brain, driving him forwards and keeping him in a constant state of turbulent thinking, his synapses firing like it was bloody New Year's Eve.
  And so that is why he didn’t really notice at first, standing in the alleyway, how the thing he had waited for all day was finally happening, how the transition started. Didn’t see the sky as it was struck with the painter's swift brush, ensuing brilliant hues of overlapping reds, oranges and pink. He looks up only when the sun takes its final dip and sees the empty canvas left behind. A starless void. Because the little dots of lights, so visible in nature or even back in his Richmond, were being cancelled out by the millions of light-up homes, which, put together, causes the dense mass of jumbled-together skyscrapers to now glitter like a pirate’s treasure trove. This effectively turns the sky finally into a dull, ashen grey. Oliver sighs; night had come; time to get to work again.

  The young wolf is sniffing, beginning immediately to dig through the dejected scum of humanity down in the gutters. The ones who come scampering from their hidey holes after dark for the sake of their livelihood. They’re the individuals that ‘upstanding’ citizens would shun, deem dangerous, scandalous, and worthy of distrust without even having met one face to face. Now being one himself, he could attest that fact being partly true, yet still very much a falsehood. Some of the best people he knew were among this rabble of society’s outcasts. Anyway, he hopes that being one in the crowd will prove to be in his favour, that he can gain some kind of inside knowledge, however small. Yet he is doubtful. This is not his first night doing this, after all. In fact, it is night number…well, he had lost count. Let’s just say, basically every free night, that he is not selling his own body for some cold hard dosh.
  He shifts between people, talking to some, skipping over others that he knew would lead to a heated confrontation, and it is well into the night, inching well past midnight. Oliver closes his eyes, a long-winded breath escaping. Would he ever find something or someone as a link to the supernatural community? He was a werewolf! Surely that should help?
  Suddenly, as if answering the lad’s thoughts, Oliver hears something when he rounds the corner of a supposedly desolate alleyway. His ears perk up, and he concentrates, utilising his superior sense of hearing to pick up on a faraway conversation. By the sound of things, they are relaying the words of a Vampire Lord. Intrigued, he follows once they start moving, trying to stay well clear of them in case they hear him sneaking behind them. Big mistake. He hears someone land behind him.
  Before he can turn, there’s a sharp unimaginable pain, a penetrative sensation at the small of his back. A gasp of air presses from his lips. He feels a hand turning violently inside of his flesh like it is kneading dough, sharp fingers moving wet organs around. He cannot scream; a lack of air in his punctured lungs, and only a whimper is emptied into the air.
  His body is lifted off of the ground, his feet dangling like a puppet. Then, with a crash, his face makes hard contact with the concrete floor. His blood intermingles with soggy puddles in potholes, and a rugged boot is pressed over his face. A harsh, wet cough sputters from Harker’s mouth; Oliver is choking on his own blood. “I do not appreciate having my Lord’s business interrupted, wolf pup”, a voice coos. “Please, do not follow us again. This is your only warning. The consequence for failing to comply, well, I assure you; it will be dire.”
  The boot is removed, and the boy convulses, coughing, trying to breathe.
  He does not see his aggressors nor hear them anymore. They’d vanished, leaving him to welt in agony, turning blue from lack of oxygen.
• 

  Oliver Harker July 18, 2022 at 6:16pm

  (Oh, well, that is the embarrassing thing; I forgot. I will do the starter, I think. I feel I owe that now for my dementia. Hehe, I'll put you up on the starter list. Hopefully, I'll have something by the end of next week!)
• Community Leader

  Maya (Slow Replies) July 12, 2022 at 8:08pm

  (Sorry, this has taken so long to get back to you! I'm typically a lot faster, but really needed a break. I've been wanting to write, but just have a hard time getting into Maya's character lately. Things just aren't flowing like they usually do for me! I really don't have an explanation. I've been writing as her for 2 years now, and never been stumped like this, especially with so many good threads going! 

   Anywayyyyyy, I'd still love to write with you. Considering Vic has a hero complex, it'd fit well with Maya. While she acts and generally is decently independent, she still wouldn't mind the help or learning experiences that Victor may show her. There is more to Maya than the fragile little thing she is currently. I love building my characters over years and years, but I do have a more 'magical?' plan for her! If you're still up to write. Maybe we can try something? I can probably start us off with Maya bumming around somewhere?)
• 

  Oliver Harker July 12, 2022 at 8:00pm

  (I'm not in any rush. I'm sure your brain is superior to mine and can come up with something better. I mean, I could try, but you say it takes you a week, it'd probably take me a month. Starters are the devil to me.)
• 

  Oliver Harker July 9, 2022 at 9:13pm

  (Well they do say it is good to have aspirations. :P

  And, well, I do. I don't really like to start off, but I usually do most of the time anyway. I can start us off, if you'd like, that'd probably make the most sense, but it'd take me a while because my two brain cells don't work very well. They just kinda rolling around like ping pong balls.)
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  Oliver Harker July 9, 2022 at 4:06pm

  (I think that'd work, yeah, for sure! I would like for Oliver to ultimately decline the offer in some way though. Because I want him to remain in meek and desperate conditions for at least a year or so more.  It'd also make sense, given his family are all vampire slayers, that he'd distrust Victor. Would that work?

  And yes, I think perhaps that they could very well meet under either one of those circumstances you just listed. Either is good. One question, though; is the supernatural world public knowledge in your lore? Because it is not in mine. Just want to see if we match up somewhat in lore before we start.)
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  Oliver Harker July 7, 2022 at 6:42am

  (Well it is a good direction to take, so I say stay on course. ^^

  I'd like a thread, yeee. Do you have any ideas? I wish I did, but my two brain cells are not being particularly cooperative rn, they're just kinda spinning around in an office chair being kinda useless.)