Camille Noir
Member
- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Camille Noir
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 55 (0.01 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Camille Noir 10 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Are the aliens going to be able to communicate when the take someone over, like talk and such?
Natasha simply nodded, sensing that "slower" was what Randal preferred when it came to those parties. The parties in New York and London weren't very different at all, the main differences being that the people were older and that Natasha had more incentive to be much more careful about the crowds she ran with so that she didn't screw up, lose her scholarship, and have to be on the first plane back to London. Luckily, it wasn't hard to find people who had similar reasons to be cautious.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they pulled into the service station lot. As nice of a time as she'd had in Alabama, she was itching to get home. She wasn't surprised that the man at the station knew Randal, but she had to wrestle back any signs of amusement at hearing the man address him as Randy. She had no clue whether he preferred Randal or Randy, but the nickname hadn't been expected after how he'd introduced himself.
"Good evening," she answered cheerfully, ignoring the raised brow she received for her accent. "My name's Natasha Velev. I'm not actually from here, but my car stopped a few miles back and Randal here was nice enough to stop and give me a hand. He says I need an oil change." Looking between the two men, she added, "Would this be where I would have my car brought if the oil change turns out not to solve the issue?"
Mike Thompson had checked out quite a while ago, though his body remained active. The majority of the Thompson house had been thoroughly trashed by Mike's hands. He continued his search although nothing of much use had been found aside from a few tools stored in a desk drawer filled with many other meaningless items.
A voice halted his reckless perusal. The voice, most definitely not belonging to Molly Thompson, was completely unfamiliar to the creature inhabiting Mike's body. It followed the source anyway, seeking a new course of action now that the search had proven useless. He stepped over where Molly's body lay in her own blood, several small, spider-like creatures scuttling atop her.
Mike continued in slow measured steps from the hallway and out into the open living room and kitchen area. The cracked door was in sight now, several more of the spider-like creatures rested along the door and doorjamb. As he moved closer to the door, Mike made a noise of acknowledgement, beckoning the newcomer inside.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they pulled into the service station lot. As nice of a time as she'd had in Alabama, she was itching to get home. She wasn't surprised that the man at the station knew Randal, but she had to wrestle back any signs of amusement at hearing the man address him as Randy. She had no clue whether he preferred Randal or Randy, but the nickname hadn't been expected after how he'd introduced himself.
"Good evening," she answered cheerfully, ignoring the raised brow she received for her accent. "My name's Natasha Velev. I'm not actually from here, but my car stopped a few miles back and Randal here was nice enough to stop and give me a hand. He says I need an oil change." Looking between the two men, she added, "Would this be where I would have my car brought if the oil change turns out not to solve the issue?"
Mike Thompson had checked out quite a while ago, though his body remained active. The majority of the Thompson house had been thoroughly trashed by Mike's hands. He continued his search although nothing of much use had been found aside from a few tools stored in a desk drawer filled with many other meaningless items.
A voice halted his reckless perusal. The voice, most definitely not belonging to Molly Thompson, was completely unfamiliar to the creature inhabiting Mike's body. It followed the source anyway, seeking a new course of action now that the search had proven useless. He stepped over where Molly's body lay in her own blood, several small, spider-like creatures scuttling atop her.
Mike continued in slow measured steps from the hallway and out into the open living room and kitchen area. The cracked door was in sight now, several more of the spider-like creatures rested along the door and doorjamb. As he moved closer to the door, Mike made a noise of acknowledgement, beckoning the newcomer inside.
Natasha simply nodded, sensing that "slower" was what Randal preferred when it came to those parties. The parties in New York and London weren't very different at all, the main differences being that the people were older and that Natasha had more incentive to be much more careful about the crowds she ran with so that she didn't screw up, lose her scholarship, and have to be on the first plane back to London. Luckily, it wasn't hard to find people who had similar reasons to be cautious.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they pulled into the service station lot. As nice of a time as she'd had in Alabama, she was itching to get home. She wasn't surprised that the man at the station knew Randal, but she had to wrestle back any signs of amusement at hearing the man address him as Randy. She had no clue whether he preferred Randal or Randy, but the nickname hadn't been expected after how he'd introduced himself.
"Good evening," she answered cheerfully, ignoring the raised brow she received for her accent. "My name's Natasha Velev. I'm not actually from here, but my car stopped a few miles back and Randal here was nice enough to stop and give me a hand. He says I need an oil change." Looking between the two men, she added, "Would this be where I would have my car brought if the oil change turns out not to solve the issue?"
Mike Thompson had checked out quite a while ago, though his body remained active. The majority of the Thompson house had been thoroughly trashed by Mike's hands. He continued his search although nothing of much use had been found aside from a few tools stored in a desk drawer filled with many other meaningless items.
A voice halted his reckless perusal. The voice, most definitely not belonging to Molly Thompson, was completely unfamiliar to the creature inhabiting Mike's body. It followed the source anyway, seeking a new course of action now that the search had proven useless. He stepped over where Molly's body lay in her own blood, several small, spider-like creatures scuttling atop her.
Mike continued in slow measured steps from the hallway and out into the open living room and kitchen area. The cracked door was in sight now, several more of the spider-like creatures rested along the door and doorjamb. As he moved closer to the door, Mike made a noise of acknowledgement, beckoning the newcomer inside.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they pulled into the service station lot. As nice of a time as she'd had in Alabama, she was itching to get home. She wasn't surprised that the man at the station knew Randal, but she had to wrestle back any signs of amusement at hearing the man address him as Randy. She had no clue whether he preferred Randal or Randy, but the nickname hadn't been expected after how he'd introduced himself.
"Good evening," she answered cheerfully, ignoring the raised brow she received for her accent. "My name's Natasha Velev. I'm not actually from here, but my car stopped a few miles back and Randal here was nice enough to stop and give me a hand. He says I need an oil change." Looking between the two men, she added, "Would this be where I would have my car brought if the oil change turns out not to solve the issue?"
Mike Thompson had checked out quite a while ago, though his body remained active. The majority of the Thompson house had been thoroughly trashed by Mike's hands. He continued his search although nothing of much use had been found aside from a few tools stored in a desk drawer filled with many other meaningless items.
A voice halted his reckless perusal. The voice, most definitely not belonging to Molly Thompson, was completely unfamiliar to the creature inhabiting Mike's body. It followed the source anyway, seeking a new course of action now that the search had proven useless. He stepped over where Molly's body lay in her own blood, several small, spider-like creatures scuttling atop her.
Mike continued in slow measured steps from the hallway and out into the open living room and kitchen area. The cracked door was in sight now, several more of the spider-like creatures rested along the door and doorjamb. As he moved closer to the door, Mike made a noise of acknowledgement, beckoning the newcomer inside.
Natasha simply nodded, sensing that "slower" was what Randal preferred when it came to those parties. The parties in New York and London weren't very different at all, the main differences being that the people were older and that Natasha had more incentive to be much more careful about the crowds she ran with so that she didn't screw up, lose her scholarship, and have to be on the first plane back to London. Luckily, it wasn't hard to find people who had similar reasons to be cautious.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they pulled into the service station lot. As nice of a time as she'd had in Alabama, she was itching to get home. She wasn't surprised that the man at the station knew Randal, but she had to wrestle back any signs of amusement at hearing the man address him as Randy. She had no clue whether he preferred Randal or Randy, but the nickname hadn't been expected after how he'd introduced himself.
"Good evening," she answered cheerfully, ignoring the raised brow she received for her accent. "My name's Natasha Velev. I'm not actually from here, but my car stopped a few miles back and Randal here was nice enough to stop and give me a hand. He says I need an oil change." Looking between the two men, she added, "Would this be where I would have my car brought if the oil change turns out not to solve the issue?"
Mike Thompson had checked out quite a while ago, though his body remained active. The majority of the Thompson house had been thoroughly trashed by Mike's hands. He continued his search although nothing of much use had been found aside from a few tools stored in a desk drawer filled with many other meaningless items.
A voice halted his reckless perusal. The voice, most definitely not belonging to Molly Thompson, was completely unfamiliar to the creature inhabiting Mike's body. It followed the source anyway, seeking a new course of action now that the search had proven useless. He stepped over where Molly's body lay in her own blood, several small, spider-like creatures scuttling atop her.
Mike continued in slow measured steps from the hallway and out into the open living room and kitchen area. The cracked door was in sight now, several more of the spider-like creatures rested along the door and doorjamb. As he moved closer to the door, Mike made a noise of acknowledgement, beckoning the newcomer inside.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they pulled into the service station lot. As nice of a time as she'd had in Alabama, she was itching to get home. She wasn't surprised that the man at the station knew Randal, but she had to wrestle back any signs of amusement at hearing the man address him as Randy. She had no clue whether he preferred Randal or Randy, but the nickname hadn't been expected after how he'd introduced himself.
"Good evening," she answered cheerfully, ignoring the raised brow she received for her accent. "My name's Natasha Velev. I'm not actually from here, but my car stopped a few miles back and Randal here was nice enough to stop and give me a hand. He says I need an oil change." Looking between the two men, she added, "Would this be where I would have my car brought if the oil change turns out not to solve the issue?"
Mike Thompson had checked out quite a while ago, though his body remained active. The majority of the Thompson house had been thoroughly trashed by Mike's hands. He continued his search although nothing of much use had been found aside from a few tools stored in a desk drawer filled with many other meaningless items.
A voice halted his reckless perusal. The voice, most definitely not belonging to Molly Thompson, was completely unfamiliar to the creature inhabiting Mike's body. It followed the source anyway, seeking a new course of action now that the search had proven useless. He stepped over where Molly's body lay in her own blood, several small, spider-like creatures scuttling atop her.
Mike continued in slow measured steps from the hallway and out into the open living room and kitchen area. The cracked door was in sight now, several more of the spider-like creatures rested along the door and doorjamb. As he moved closer to the door, Mike made a noise of acknowledgement, beckoning the newcomer inside.
Well, we have enough to start with, but I also can't help but notice that even though we set up something with everyone individually, and even a little something with Hermoine and Luna or Harry and Ginny, we didn't actually establish something to intertwine Draco x Luna and Harry x Hermoine. I mean, it might not even be needed, but I thought I'd bring it up just in case.
Yes, I was thinking a few weeks after the start of term too.
I think monthly makes sense for a brand new school paper. Usually as far as names go, school newsletters incorporate the colors or make a play on what the mascot is. I was trying to work that angle to come up with something else, but Hogwarts has too many of both so... Since it's a newsletter, I think Hogwarts Times is okay
I think monthly makes sense for a brand new school paper. Usually as far as names go, school newsletters incorporate the colors or make a play on what the mascot is. I was trying to work that angle to come up with something else, but Hogwarts has too many of both so... Since it's a newsletter, I think Hogwarts Times is okay
Natasha eyed the mill as the car approached and then passed it, leaning over a little so as to see it out of the driver's window. It was impressive to her how large and imposing the old structure was up close. She had actually had the same reaction on the way up to her cousin's house as well. Between the endless miles of fields and the fact that the lights inside the mill were still on, it wasn't hard to guess that the mill played an important part in the town's economy.
She raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued when he mentioned having attended the University of Chicago. Usually one would envision someone going to such a highly ranked school to have come from a place with a really industrialized set-up. Some additional respect for him seeped in, but she didn't mention it because she herself knew how annoying it could be when a person started goes on for too long about how impressive a person is for doing the unexpected.
Natasha leaned back into her own seat when they a little farther away from the mill. What she assumed was town was coming up now. She recognized the Rosco's Gas and Go from the drive up. Now that she was actually stopping there for a purpose rather than just driving through to get elsewhere, it occurred how little there was to this town. A person could easily walk the length of it in not much time at all.
A startled laugh escaped Natasha at the question, "Well, I did do some dancing," she answered. However, she was referring to the slow dancing and those universal modern dances that young people all over the country were doing. "Sometimes though... well, I enjoy dancing but suffice it to say some of the dances weren't exactly my cup of tea. I used those opportunities to go get a drink and save myself from looking foolish."
Turning to him with a smile, she added, "You're from here, though. Was there a huge difference between those college parties and clubs in Chicago and the parties you were used to back home?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued when he mentioned having attended the University of Chicago. Usually one would envision someone going to such a highly ranked school to have come from a place with a really industrialized set-up. Some additional respect for him seeped in, but she didn't mention it because she herself knew how annoying it could be when a person started goes on for too long about how impressive a person is for doing the unexpected.
Natasha leaned back into her own seat when they a little farther away from the mill. What she assumed was town was coming up now. She recognized the Rosco's Gas and Go from the drive up. Now that she was actually stopping there for a purpose rather than just driving through to get elsewhere, it occurred how little there was to this town. A person could easily walk the length of it in not much time at all.
A startled laugh escaped Natasha at the question, "Well, I did do some dancing," she answered. However, she was referring to the slow dancing and those universal modern dances that young people all over the country were doing. "Sometimes though... well, I enjoy dancing but suffice it to say some of the dances weren't exactly my cup of tea. I used those opportunities to go get a drink and save myself from looking foolish."
Turning to him with a smile, she added, "You're from here, though. Was there a huge difference between those college parties and clubs in Chicago and the parties you were used to back home?"
Okay, that's cool. The spider thing would make sense, then, for inhabiting bodies.Yeah, the runaway would probably be around teen age, which would at least partially explain how he/she felt mature enough to run away but then ended up on a shuttle full of dangerous criminals.
There we are! I had to reply to some messages and another roleplay and grab a bite to eat first, but it's ready now. I hope it's all good if we start in Austin. I wasn't thinking that Jack's staying in his childhood home or anything like that. I just thought it might be a nice touch if Austin is the city where he had been staying.
India drove in silence along the main road leading outside of Austin, Texas. The radio was playing an old rock station, but she'd turned it down quite a while ago to eliminate the distraction. Her mind was absorbed with the possibility of seeing Jack again. It had only been a couple of years since they broke their partnership, but India doubtlessly would have let many more pass before contacting him were it not for the circumstances.
Finally, India turned off of the main road into a neighborhood about thirty-five minutes into a nice residential area outside of the metropolitan district of Austin. She slowed the car in front of a simple but well-kept ranch house. She pulled into the driveway next to the vehicle that was already there and shut off the car. In the car's mirrors, India could see that her appearance had drawn some curious looks from some of the people in the neighborhood enjoying a nice day outside. Maybe Jack didn't get many visitors.
After taking a moment to prepare herself, India stepped out of the car into the summer heat. She hadn't exactly dressed up for the occasion, dressed in a simple lavender V-neck and tight, light blue denim shorts. Waving casually to the people of the neighborhood, she shut the rental car door behind her and locked it. She surveyed the house and neighborhood further through her sunglass-covered eyes as she approached the door, white flip-flops clicking softly as she walked up the path and the small staircase. She breathed out softly a pressed the doorbell.
Finally, India turned off of the main road into a neighborhood about thirty-five minutes into a nice residential area outside of the metropolitan district of Austin. She slowed the car in front of a simple but well-kept ranch house. She pulled into the driveway next to the vehicle that was already there and shut off the car. In the car's mirrors, India could see that her appearance had drawn some curious looks from some of the people in the neighborhood enjoying a nice day outside. Maybe Jack didn't get many visitors.
After taking a moment to prepare herself, India stepped out of the car into the summer heat. She hadn't exactly dressed up for the occasion, dressed in a simple lavender V-neck and tight, light blue denim shorts. Waving casually to the people of the neighborhood, she shut the rental car door behind her and locked it. She surveyed the house and neighborhood further through her sunglass-covered eyes as she approached the door, white flip-flops clicking softly as she walked up the path and the small staircase. She breathed out softly a pressed the doorbell.
© 2007-2024