In which the reader is forced to wait while I try and figure out what's coming up next. >-<
“Patience, Kyra.”
She got Chair de poule at Chelsea’s calm voice, tears escaping down her face. The pain of the or was immense but she couldn’t place why-- skin contact hadn’t affected her before. Chelsea’s chuckled reached her as she took in a shuddering breath. “I assumed it would pain toi plus than toi believed.”
The dark cloth over her eyes slipped away and she blinked a couple of times. Chelsea sat across from her, scraping a jagged couteau on rock, making earsplitting screeches. A wicked grin spread on the older girls face. “They are looking, toi know. But they don’t have very much time.”
“So cliche,” Kyra hissed out. “The time limit, the shed, targeting me; you’re turning into a typical villain.”
“I’m starting small,” Chelsea murmured, inspecting the edge of the blade. “I’m not aiming for death, I’m aiming for heartbreak.”
Kyra’s face contorted, confused, and Chelsea leant closer. “I know that promise toi made to Eric. From two years ago? Imagine if he found toi break that promise.”
“He’d understand! He will understand!”
“No. Not if he finds a suicide note.”
“I never wrote--”
“But I did. Shifted his memories so that the letter he found is from you. And it’s not like you’ll be able to explain. Your time is up.”
Kyra yelled out as she unwilling moved toward the knife, dragging it towards her arm. Chelsea’s glowing crimson eyes bored into her, and as hard as she fought, she still couldn’t stop. Shakily, her hand made a deep Slash in her wrist, then slowly continued up her forearm. “Stop,” she muttered, then screamed out. “Stop!”
Miraculously the couteau clattered to the floor, and she grasped her bloody arm tightly. Viciously glaring at the villainess, she stood, but instantly became nauseous, leaning against the mur for support. “Have fun,” Chelsea muttered, stepping out of the shed.
Slumping to the ground, Kyra’s breathing shallowed, her heartbeat slowing. A pair of boots came up to her vision and she glanced up to see Revenge calling out. To her, it was like an old movie: black and white, with no sound. Painfully she accepted unconsciousness, her last thought being Forgive me.
P.S.: I need one sentence, from any article Fin's been in (doesn't matter if it's mine, yours, ou another person), that shows her relationship with the other OC's and her other friends. Message any sentences toi find straight to me. :3
“Patience, Kyra.”
She got Chair de poule at Chelsea’s calm voice, tears escaping down her face. The pain of the or was immense but she couldn’t place why-- skin contact hadn’t affected her before. Chelsea’s chuckled reached her as she took in a shuddering breath. “I assumed it would pain toi plus than toi believed.”
The dark cloth over her eyes slipped away and she blinked a couple of times. Chelsea sat across from her, scraping a jagged couteau on rock, making earsplitting screeches. A wicked grin spread on the older girls face. “They are looking, toi know. But they don’t have very much time.”
“So cliche,” Kyra hissed out. “The time limit, the shed, targeting me; you’re turning into a typical villain.”
“I’m starting small,” Chelsea murmured, inspecting the edge of the blade. “I’m not aiming for death, I’m aiming for heartbreak.”
Kyra’s face contorted, confused, and Chelsea leant closer. “I know that promise toi made to Eric. From two years ago? Imagine if he found toi break that promise.”
“He’d understand! He will understand!”
“No. Not if he finds a suicide note.”
“I never wrote--”
“But I did. Shifted his memories so that the letter he found is from you. And it’s not like you’ll be able to explain. Your time is up.”
Kyra yelled out as she unwilling moved toward the knife, dragging it towards her arm. Chelsea’s glowing crimson eyes bored into her, and as hard as she fought, she still couldn’t stop. Shakily, her hand made a deep Slash in her wrist, then slowly continued up her forearm. “Stop,” she muttered, then screamed out. “Stop!”
Miraculously the couteau clattered to the floor, and she grasped her bloody arm tightly. Viciously glaring at the villainess, she stood, but instantly became nauseous, leaning against the mur for support. “Have fun,” Chelsea muttered, stepping out of the shed.
Slumping to the ground, Kyra’s breathing shallowed, her heartbeat slowing. A pair of boots came up to her vision and she glanced up to see Revenge calling out. To her, it was like an old movie: black and white, with no sound. Painfully she accepted unconsciousness, her last thought being Forgive me.
P.S.: I need one sentence, from any article Fin's been in (doesn't matter if it's mine, yours, ou another person), that shows her relationship with the other OC's and her other friends. Message any sentences toi find straight to me. :3
Princess Callista Ashari Aldric
Irene
Alias: Mim (M-im)
Occupation: Child
Powers: all elements, Flight
History:Irene was born the daughter of Devin and Fang Adams. She was raised in her home, with her siblings. Her days were spent lazily, being her daddy’s little girl, until she turned seven. When she turned seven, she killed her oldest sibling, Jon, in a freak accident with her newly found powers. Since then, she has lived in rivalry with her siblings for her father’s attention, which she believes is the only thing keeping her with the family.
Notes: Irene was born with naturally purple hair, something that was different from her siblings. She is the only one to inherit her mother’s power over elements.
This is a short guide to the youngest child in the Adams' family. She will have a longer one for when she's older.
Lilith
Anastasia Romanova II
Nickname: Lance
Occupation: Knight
Ethnicity: Romanian
Race: Vampire
Story: Lance was born into an aristocratic family. He was raised in the royal court and befriended the young prince he was charged to protect. When tragedy struck, he brought the prince to safety. He took care of him for years until the prince grew into a man. He is now among those loyal to him and is a trusted friend.
Facts: Lance is par nature very bookish. He prefers words to fists even though he is trained in several different form of self defense and sword play. He is very close to his old charge now friend. He often finds himself caring for him when no one else will. The two share a close bond and he’d give his life for his friend.
Jessie Nasrin Bennett
Octavia Rurik
