That's okay! Sometimes I leave out entire words, so it's no big deal. If I know what you mean, then typos don't bother me.
Haha, that's okay. I have skype if you want that? I check my subs pretty obsessively, but I'm pretty much always on Skype in the evening and that's the easiest way to get at me.
mmidnight Member
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In spite of what Torsten was saying about their being no danger, Allison didn't believe him. She was very much on edge, wondering what could possibly be wrong and who, rather than what, had put a stop to their innocent hike. For some reason, she highly doubted that it was a bear, and didn't think that Torsten would be forcing a smile if a grizzly was just wandering their way through the forest. This was something different, something sinister if he felt the need to keep her safe. This time, Allison wasn't going to argue with him, and she didn't feel the need to try and change the Finn's mind when it was clearly already made up. She had no choice but to trust him, and go with whatever he instructed.
“Be careful,” Allison asked of him. The field was large, stretching far enough off into the distance to make the barn look small. The only indication that a structure was actually there was the typical, red paint on the outside of it. For Torsten, someone who was an experienced soldier, running across a potentially dangerous, open area more than likely want a big deal. Allison was no soldier, and her anxiety was high.
Hidden by the trees and brush at the edge of the woods, Allison stood as still as possible as she watched Torsten cross the field. It was effortless for him, and she could tell that he was in his element, whether he wanted to be or not. The young doctor worried at her lip as the Finn became smaller and put more distance between them. She could still see him, and didn't miss his signal for her to come over. Inwardly, she told herself that Torsten wouldn't let her get hurt, and she pushed herself to step out of the cover of the forest.
Jogging across the field, she was halfway there and the reservations she had about this Amish community were starting to ease. Unfortunately, her thinking was premature as a loud, desperate scream pierced through the quiet, sereneness of the settlement. Allison stopped in her tracks, stopping to frantically look around for the woman who had made the noise to begin with, but she couldn't see anything. She looked toward Torsten, seeing him scramble around in the distance and took no comfort in the fact that he was as caught off guard as she was.
Allison sprinted toward Torsten, paying no mind to her aching feet as she crossed the rest of the field in record time. She caught up to the Finn, slightly breathless as she finally caught sigh of the scene below the hill. Three men were chasing a woman, and her dress was either red or covered in blood. There wasn't much that Allison actually knew about the Amish, but if they were anything like the other simple cultures back east, red wasn't a God-approved color. “We have to help her,” she gasped, no longer afraid, but thinking critically instead. This was her element, the very thing she had studied for and she wasn't going to turn away from a person in need just because of the danger that could possibly be involved.
“They'll kill her if we don't,” she pointed out, already starting down the hill. It was foolish, but Allison wasn't going to let the woman die.
“Be careful,” Allison asked of him. The field was large, stretching far enough off into the distance to make the barn look small. The only indication that a structure was actually there was the typical, red paint on the outside of it. For Torsten, someone who was an experienced soldier, running across a potentially dangerous, open area more than likely want a big deal. Allison was no soldier, and her anxiety was high.
Hidden by the trees and brush at the edge of the woods, Allison stood as still as possible as she watched Torsten cross the field. It was effortless for him, and she could tell that he was in his element, whether he wanted to be or not. The young doctor worried at her lip as the Finn became smaller and put more distance between them. She could still see him, and didn't miss his signal for her to come over. Inwardly, she told herself that Torsten wouldn't let her get hurt, and she pushed herself to step out of the cover of the forest.
Jogging across the field, she was halfway there and the reservations she had about this Amish community were starting to ease. Unfortunately, her thinking was premature as a loud, desperate scream pierced through the quiet, sereneness of the settlement. Allison stopped in her tracks, stopping to frantically look around for the woman who had made the noise to begin with, but she couldn't see anything. She looked toward Torsten, seeing him scramble around in the distance and took no comfort in the fact that he was as caught off guard as she was.
Allison sprinted toward Torsten, paying no mind to her aching feet as she crossed the rest of the field in record time. She caught up to the Finn, slightly breathless as she finally caught sigh of the scene below the hill. Three men were chasing a woman, and her dress was either red or covered in blood. There wasn't much that Allison actually knew about the Amish, but if they were anything like the other simple cultures back east, red wasn't a God-approved color. “We have to help her,” she gasped, no longer afraid, but thinking critically instead. This was her element, the very thing she had studied for and she wasn't going to turn away from a person in need just because of the danger that could possibly be involved.
“They'll kill her if we don't,” she pointed out, already starting down the hill. It was foolish, but Allison wasn't going to let the woman die.
I have reply to do before this and I'm going to try and bust it out before it gets too late and then if I don't have time to get to ours after that, then you'll be first on my list tomorrow. Idk if I mentioned this, but I usually operate from oldest to newest roleplays just to keep everything fair. (And I'm sorry you fell asleep like that D: nights like those are the worst)
Same, tbh. I think she's strict but nothing like the shrew Walburga is.
Same, tbh. I think she's strict but nothing like the shrew Walburga is.
Take your time :3 there's no rush at all!
I loved it! I'm a little busy tonight, but I'll get you something by tomorrow night for sure.
The more he talked, the more normal Noah seemed. Perhaps she romanticized him a bit to begin with, taking his different appearance to mean that he lead some type of exciting life, but from the way he described things—skipping the gym, going to party, getting a lecture from his parents—Charlotte found that they were more similar than she thought. Knowing that didn't mean that the dark-haired young woman was no longer interested in Noah, he still lived in the city and his definition of a party was probably a little more risky than hers, but above all else, he was easy to talk to. Charlotte herself was a people person, but it was rare that she clicked with someone so instantaneously.
“You can tell me whatever you want,” Charlotte shook her head, hoping he wouldn't be discouraged. She would rather hear about his life than how much beer he could drink, or how he thought the Sox were going to do that year. In all honesty, she got enough of that from her other male friends, and there was only so much of Fenway's big green monster and home runs that she could take. Instead, she wanted to hear about his drawings, and whatever other off the wall details he could think up.
Laughing, Charlotte grinned, “clean. Accurate yet unexpected. I think most people would call it snobby.” Boat clubs and backyard parties quickly became boring and Charlotte would have been happy to let anyone from Boston take her place at such functions most days. “Where exactly were you trespassing?” she asked, her tone more curious than judgmental.
She sat back as their food was delivered to the table, and Charlotte laid her napkin across her lap after thanking the server. She poured a generous amount of syrup over the hot, blueberry pancakes on the plate before digging in and taking a bite.
“You can tell me whatever you want,” Charlotte shook her head, hoping he wouldn't be discouraged. She would rather hear about his life than how much beer he could drink, or how he thought the Sox were going to do that year. In all honesty, she got enough of that from her other male friends, and there was only so much of Fenway's big green monster and home runs that she could take. Instead, she wanted to hear about his drawings, and whatever other off the wall details he could think up.
Laughing, Charlotte grinned, “clean. Accurate yet unexpected. I think most people would call it snobby.” Boat clubs and backyard parties quickly became boring and Charlotte would have been happy to let anyone from Boston take her place at such functions most days. “Where exactly were you trespassing?” she asked, her tone more curious than judgmental.
She sat back as their food was delivered to the table, and Charlotte laid her napkin across her lap after thanking the server. She poured a generous amount of syrup over the hot, blueberry pancakes on the plate before digging in and taking a bite.
I hope my post was okay! And I'm sorry if it was too long D: I got a little carried away, I guess. I promise not to write you a novel every time.
The secondhand book business had never been booming, and with the current state of the printed word, that more than likely wasn't set to change anytime soon. Technology had taken over everything, phasing out physical books in favor of e-readers with no-glare screens and animations of pages being turned. It was cheap, and although it was convenient, Hannah Bosc was much more content to sit somewhere for hours with a book in her lap, take notes in the margins and dogear the pages when she was without a bookmark. She enjoyed breaking in a new spine and the way the pages of any book smelled and felt beneath her fingers. Chapter One had instilled that love in her, and she would always be grateful for what she had grown up alongside.
It was a particularly dreary day in fall, and the entire town was cast in a gloomy, gray, haze. The new autumn had brought nothing but rain for the last several days, and the temperature made Hannah long for a big cup of hot tea and a cozy sweater. Instead, she had been downstairs in the bookstore, helping a few customers here and there, but mostly reading herself behind the counter.
Today, the redhead was seated on the outside of the display window, taking in the natural light as she worked her way through Walden for the second time. Customers had been slow that day, but it was finally close to closing, just another hour and Hannah could lock the doors and take Simon upstairs for the night. She was looking forward to a night of Netflix and leftover Chinese takeout. She had been somewhat reclusive since her father's death, and holding herself up in the apartment seemed like a good remedy for grief, much to the dismay of her friends. However, Hannah insisted that she was fine, that she was just busy trying to keep the store on track and too tired to do much else. Avoidance had always been something she was particularly skilled with.
It was hard to ignore the irony of Walden and the importance of solitude, and Hannah found herself sighing as she turned the page, wondering if she had picked the wrong book to read for once. This contemplation didn't last very long as the bell on the door rang and an older man stepped in from the rain with a box tucked under his arm. Hannah jumped up from where she was sitting, laying her book face down before smiling at the man, “can I help you?”
Quite often, Chapter One was got new stock when people decided to do some spring cleaning, or when a loved one died and the family didn't want the books to go to waste. Hannah hoped this man was merely doing the former. He cleared his throat and returned her smile, looking tired and possibly a bit under the weather. His eyes were kind, though, a calming blue that went nicely with the five o'clock shadow along his jaw. “I have some books I'd like to sell,” he said, pulling open the flaps of the cardboard box.
“Great,” the redhead nodded and helped the man pull the books from the box. She looked over the stack, seeing a few copies of classics with alternate covers, a cook book or two and one that looked oddly out of place. It was bound in leather and the edge of each page was painted red. There was no title on the spine, and the writing on the inside looked to be in Latin. It was one of the more strange and eerie things that had been brought into the store before. “What is this?” she finally asked, willing to take it, but she was more curious than anything.
The man shook his head, suddenly looking sick. “I don't know,” he said, his voice grave. “Some kind of bible? I just want it gone. I—If it's not worth anything, you can just keep it. I don't want it at my house, and my mom's got no use for it now.”
Eyebrows raised, Hannah paused, turning the book over in her hand once more. She didn't know what was so off-putting about the book to cause such a reaction, but the stranger seemed to be scared of it. Books were harmless, and Hannah didn't think this ornate tome was any different from the hundreds of others that lined the hardwood shelves of the store—she would gladly take whatever this was off of the man's hands. “I'll give you twenty bucks for the box,” she offered, setting the book on top of the others as she opened the register to pull out a ten dollar bill and two fives for the man.
After the man took the money, he made his way to the door, but paused to look back. “Make sure that thing doesn't fall into the wrong hands,” he warned before making his leave.
Hannah made a face, creeped out by the whole encounter. It wasn't unheard of to get the oddball in the shop every so often, but nothing like that had ever happened. Simon's meow caught her attention, and the blue-eyed woman found herself smiling once more as she cooed at her cat and gave him a pet under the chin. “That was weird, huh?” she asked, rubbing her hands over the Tabby's ears and giving his head a kiss before coming out from behind the large, oak counter to lock the door. There was still some time left to the business day, but Hannah decided to close early and flipped the sign on the door. All that was left to do now was file the books.
Hauling the stack of books into her arms, Hannah quickly put most of them away. All Quiet On The Western Front found a new home, along with Moby Dick and The Joy of Cooking. Finally, all that was left in her hands was the leather-bound one with no title. She walked slowly through the rows of shelves, looking over the thin pages and trying her best to decipher the Latin written within. Quickly, it was becoming clear that this would be a fruitless task without the help of the internet and if that turned back no results, the book could at least serve as a conversation piece up at the register.
“Simon,” she called, clicking her tongue to draw out the cat. “Simon come on, upstairs.” Hannah was eager to find out anything about the book, but as she began to close the heavy cover, the pad of her index finger slid along the thin pages, their razor sharp edge cutting into her skin and Hannah hissed with sudden pain as the book fell to the floor. She cursed under her breath as she noticed the cut on her finger was deeper than she had originally thought, and a bit of her blood had dripped onto the cover of the book. Doing the unsanitary thing, she stuck her finger in her mouth, frowning at the coppery taste of her blood. There were band-aids upstairs in the medicine cabinet.
As soon as she touched the book, intending to pick it up from the floor and take it with her upstairs, the sound of shattering glass caused her to shriek. All of the lights in the shop had blown at once and at the back of the store, there was close to no light. Hannah could feel her heart racing in her chest, and although she wasn't one to believe in the supernatural or curses, the strange man's warning was echoing in her mind. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she peered out toward the front of the store where she saw a shadow moving between the shelves. It was too big to be Simon, and as far as Hannah knew, she was alone.
“...Hello?” she asked hesitantly. “Is anyone there?”
It was a particularly dreary day in fall, and the entire town was cast in a gloomy, gray, haze. The new autumn had brought nothing but rain for the last several days, and the temperature made Hannah long for a big cup of hot tea and a cozy sweater. Instead, she had been downstairs in the bookstore, helping a few customers here and there, but mostly reading herself behind the counter.
Today, the redhead was seated on the outside of the display window, taking in the natural light as she worked her way through Walden for the second time. Customers had been slow that day, but it was finally close to closing, just another hour and Hannah could lock the doors and take Simon upstairs for the night. She was looking forward to a night of Netflix and leftover Chinese takeout. She had been somewhat reclusive since her father's death, and holding herself up in the apartment seemed like a good remedy for grief, much to the dismay of her friends. However, Hannah insisted that she was fine, that she was just busy trying to keep the store on track and too tired to do much else. Avoidance had always been something she was particularly skilled with.
It was hard to ignore the irony of Walden and the importance of solitude, and Hannah found herself sighing as she turned the page, wondering if she had picked the wrong book to read for once. This contemplation didn't last very long as the bell on the door rang and an older man stepped in from the rain with a box tucked under his arm. Hannah jumped up from where she was sitting, laying her book face down before smiling at the man, “can I help you?”
Quite often, Chapter One was got new stock when people decided to do some spring cleaning, or when a loved one died and the family didn't want the books to go to waste. Hannah hoped this man was merely doing the former. He cleared his throat and returned her smile, looking tired and possibly a bit under the weather. His eyes were kind, though, a calming blue that went nicely with the five o'clock shadow along his jaw. “I have some books I'd like to sell,” he said, pulling open the flaps of the cardboard box.
“Great,” the redhead nodded and helped the man pull the books from the box. She looked over the stack, seeing a few copies of classics with alternate covers, a cook book or two and one that looked oddly out of place. It was bound in leather and the edge of each page was painted red. There was no title on the spine, and the writing on the inside looked to be in Latin. It was one of the more strange and eerie things that had been brought into the store before. “What is this?” she finally asked, willing to take it, but she was more curious than anything.
The man shook his head, suddenly looking sick. “I don't know,” he said, his voice grave. “Some kind of bible? I just want it gone. I—If it's not worth anything, you can just keep it. I don't want it at my house, and my mom's got no use for it now.”
Eyebrows raised, Hannah paused, turning the book over in her hand once more. She didn't know what was so off-putting about the book to cause such a reaction, but the stranger seemed to be scared of it. Books were harmless, and Hannah didn't think this ornate tome was any different from the hundreds of others that lined the hardwood shelves of the store—she would gladly take whatever this was off of the man's hands. “I'll give you twenty bucks for the box,” she offered, setting the book on top of the others as she opened the register to pull out a ten dollar bill and two fives for the man.
After the man took the money, he made his way to the door, but paused to look back. “Make sure that thing doesn't fall into the wrong hands,” he warned before making his leave.
Hannah made a face, creeped out by the whole encounter. It wasn't unheard of to get the oddball in the shop every so often, but nothing like that had ever happened. Simon's meow caught her attention, and the blue-eyed woman found herself smiling once more as she cooed at her cat and gave him a pet under the chin. “That was weird, huh?” she asked, rubbing her hands over the Tabby's ears and giving his head a kiss before coming out from behind the large, oak counter to lock the door. There was still some time left to the business day, but Hannah decided to close early and flipped the sign on the door. All that was left to do now was file the books.
Hauling the stack of books into her arms, Hannah quickly put most of them away. All Quiet On The Western Front found a new home, along with Moby Dick and The Joy of Cooking. Finally, all that was left in her hands was the leather-bound one with no title. She walked slowly through the rows of shelves, looking over the thin pages and trying her best to decipher the Latin written within. Quickly, it was becoming clear that this would be a fruitless task without the help of the internet and if that turned back no results, the book could at least serve as a conversation piece up at the register.
“Simon,” she called, clicking her tongue to draw out the cat. “Simon come on, upstairs.” Hannah was eager to find out anything about the book, but as she began to close the heavy cover, the pad of her index finger slid along the thin pages, their razor sharp edge cutting into her skin and Hannah hissed with sudden pain as the book fell to the floor. She cursed under her breath as she noticed the cut on her finger was deeper than she had originally thought, and a bit of her blood had dripped onto the cover of the book. Doing the unsanitary thing, she stuck her finger in her mouth, frowning at the coppery taste of her blood. There were band-aids upstairs in the medicine cabinet.
As soon as she touched the book, intending to pick it up from the floor and take it with her upstairs, the sound of shattering glass caused her to shriek. All of the lights in the shop had blown at once and at the back of the store, there was close to no light. Hannah could feel her heart racing in her chest, and although she wasn't one to believe in the supernatural or curses, the strange man's warning was echoing in her mind. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she peered out toward the front of the store where she saw a shadow moving between the shelves. It was too big to be Simon, and as far as Hannah knew, she was alone.
“...Hello?” she asked hesitantly. “Is anyone there?”
Awesomeeee. I'll get started on it tonight. I have two replies to do before this, but other than that, my night is pretty free.
Haha, okay. I'll keep that in mind for future posts :3
I'm looking forward to the post, but I'm a little jealous of your ice cream.
I'm looking forward to the post, but I'm a little jealous of your ice cream.
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