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| See The Man With A Thousand Faces!; Sloane (Carlo?) Open | |
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| Topic Started: Saturday, 17. November 2012, 19:01 (597 Views) | |
| Johann | Saturday, 17. November 2012, 19:01 Post #1 |
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Seldom were these quiet moments in a modern London night, and too often were they cut short abruptly. But Johann had very few pleasures in his life and should his mood strike him such that he wished to indulge, he was willing to make such a leap of faith for such peace. Beneath a lone street lamp, he sat upon a bench, bending over the book slightly, his face wrinkled with concentration. Often time was spent learning of the world, an education that many mortals took for granted but threatened to leave him in the dark. Knowledge was something he yearned for, to grasp a better understanding of the nature of mankind and their pointless existence. However, tonight’s reading was light, a much needed break from the arduous information gathering that often left him burnt out without so much as a glimmer to the true answers. In his hands rested a small, worn book. It was a Franz Kafka book, first edition and written in his native Germanic tongue. As a young boy, his father would tell him such stories as ‘The Transformation’ to lull him to sleep, and such tales remained close to his dead shrivelled heart now. Such tales had satisfied his childish curiosity, but had often plagued his mind with doubtful thoughts of one day becoming a child of darkness. He feared that like Gergor Samsa he would one day awake from his slumber a monster, feared and despised by all. Only when the night came did he realise that he should be feared and despised, for his bleak outlook on existence boded ill for all. He would happily see the world burn and all life extinguish with it. So he sat there, surrounded by stretching darkness, quite content with the quiet cool evening breeze that ruffled his pages ever so gently. He was positioned along a small footpath that spanned the rim of the park, not too deeply enshrined in potential werewolf country; he had intended to meet someone tonight, even if they only provided a snack. And until anyone else showed up, he would remain in this deep trance of literary study. Then, depending on the person, he could be intrigued, annoyed or hungry. |
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| Sloane Carraway | Sunday, 18. November 2012, 03:43 Post #2 |
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It'd been a stressful day, a long week, and the overwhelming sense of calm before the storm was beginning to set in as Sloane was finally bouncing back from mid-term exams, and now having to prepare for finals. It seemed like she'd just arrived in this city a week ago, but two months had already come and gone. She didn't bother thinking about all the things she should have been doing right now; it plagued her mind and body more then she ever cared to have to feel or put up with, so instead, she decided to run. The fresh air was a welcome sensation, caressing her bare arms and face and filling her lungs as she jogged passed the same lavish homes and well-kept gardens she saw everyday in Chelsea. She searched for a different environment that afternoon, something quiet, peaceful, and naturally beautiful. She'd spent so much of her time exploring the working of the inner-city and the posh suburbs surrounding it, but she hadn't really gotten a chance to venture into the more woody areas of London yet. She always did enjoy getting right with Mother Nature, and today felt like the day to do so here. Heading south, she'd found her way to Beddington Park easily enough, but now it was getting dark and she was losing track of time. Neither predicaments really bothered her though, as the trail she'd been following was lit fairly well and it was quiet...getting lost here was like a dream come true. She'd stayed on the same path for quite awhile, passing the rather mysterious gentleman that was reading at least twice. He looked to be close to her own age, with a hard gaze that seemed entirely too absorbed in his reading. Curiosity got the better of her when she came around the bend and she found he hadn't budged from his perch on the bench since the last time she'd passed him. She slowed her pace and stopped a few feet away from him, bent over and catching her breath until she carefully drew closer to him, stretching her arms and joining him silently. She regarded him with all the politeness of a stranger respecting the other's space as she put her foot up on the bench and tightened the laces on her shoes. Glancing to the small book in his hands, it was definitely old, and from what she could tell from her distance, written in a language she didn't know. Sloane stood her full height once more, questioning if she should approach him or not. Curiosity got the best of her though as she sat down beside him. She kept herself busy messing with her hair, pulling the elastic out and letting her hair spill over shoulders, "Any book that turns the reader into a gargoyle must be good...mind if I ask what you're reading?" She spoke softly, with an even softer, friendlier smile on her face. She hoped he didn't see her as an intruder on his otherwise deftly quiet evening. Meeting new people always made life a little more interesting, and she lived for anything and everything interesting. |
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| Carlo | Sunday, 18. November 2012, 07:32 Post #3 |
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The night was young as Carlo walked peacefully through the Borough of Sutton, his mind wandering, watching each of the innocent bystanders walk by him. Each of them were going about their day to day business. None of them knowing at that moment he was sizing each of them up, picking the perfect person to join the collection of red marks on the breast of his jacket. Carlo loved the idea, knowing that he could end their life whenever he chose to. All he had to do was slip into a crowd and slip his blade in between some poor soul's rib cage. But that wasn't personal enough... Carlo always liked to make things... personal. What was the fun of adding to his collection when the person's last thought was not going to be of you? That was the whole reason he started down this path years ago, it was the recognition that kept him going. But the question became... Who would it be? Carlo always thought that picking a victim was a lot like shopping for a new car. You could go with the red one, but why not the blue one? The compact is cute but so is that sporty model. But then you see it... And that is the one that you have to have. The problem was there just wasn't anyone who was giving him that warm fuzzy feeling inside. Maybe I should just call it quits tonight. Carlo sighed. It was a depressing thought but when you just don't feel it, there is no reason to attempt to force something that was not there. But it was then... He saw her. Like an angel among mere mortals, the perfect addition to his collection. She was young, vivacious, and charming full of life a college student most likely. She was simply perfect. The question now was on the approach after making an approach of her own to a well dressed gentleman reading quietly, it would be rather rude to simply barge in on their conversation. He would wait for now, bide his time, and if the well dressed gentleman was lucky he would leave her be or else become an impromptu member of his collection as well. Until the right moment Carlo hid out of eyesight from the two, letting their conversation play out. After all, patience was the name of the game. |
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| Johann | Tuesday, 20. November 2012, 03:37 Post #4 |
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Unresponsive to the outside world, Johann watched her approach in his peripheral vision, and he eyed her with a predatory curiosity. Very rarely did he indulge in a kill for no real reason and whilst there was a dark pleasure in a mindless indulgence, so too did it relinquish the reigns to the beast. Besides, seeing everyone and everything with distain meant everyone was equally unworthy of his time. “Tales from my homeland. And my youth.” He shut the book gently, brushing the worn cover over once before resting it upon his lap. “A long time ago. When I was a different person.” He looked her with empty eyes, but spoke ever so softly and appeared perfectly relaxed. He looked around. All was calm. “This book is called ‘Ein Hungerkünstle’ – A Hunger Artist. You see, fasting was once considered an art. Men would starve themselves before an audience that paid to watch. This man-” he rapped his fingers that rest upon the cover of the book. “-is such an artist. But a misunderstood artist, whose vision of transcendence and artistic excellence is not accepted by others. He dies rejected and ignored. Unappreciated.” Such talkative nature was not becoming of him, he stared unblinking and started to admire her form. He always looked for new projects, and should they fall into his lap there were often interesting and unpredictable results. More likely Johann’s ability to gauge the personality of his subject was simpler when he didn’t snatch them from their beds. “My name is Johann. Who might you be?” Whatever her reaction, whether alluring proposition or pretty meatbag, she nevertheless remained in his cold sight. |
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| Sloane Carraway | Saturday, 24. November 2012, 07:00 Post #5 |
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Sloane gazed at the book in his hand, listening with a rather staggering degree of fascination as he explained his current read to her. Judging by the pages and binding worn with time and use, it obviously wasn't the first time he'd turned it's pages one right after the other. She looked up to him with finally, "That sounds beautiful... tragic, but beautiful." She whispered, still rather enamored with the story he'd begun to weave for her circling in her head. "I'm sorry, excuse my rudeness. It's a pleasure to meet you, Johann. I'm Emily Carraway, but friends call me Sloane." She smiled and glanced back at the book again, "I'm here studying abroad. I'll be leaving in a couple weeks sadly, but it's definitely been an interesting and memorable last trip..." She pondered all the things she'd done during her stay in London for a few moments. "I'm majoring in Art History back home. I've spent the last three years of college studying abroad in different countries; learning about the culture and influences of art in the area. It's been quite an experience..." She laughed weakly and settled back against the bench, crossing her left leg over her right and getting comfortable as she looked up to the stars the twinkled definitely through the thick canopy of tree branches beginning to become bare with the coming winter. It was beautiful in a mute way. "I always enjoy meeting new people with something to share. I'll have to write that down and see if I can track down a copy before I leave for the 'States." She pulled out her phone and started keying a note into her reminders, "Ein...Hungerkuntle you said? Am I pronouncing that right?" She asked him. She looked up to him again after she slid her phone back into her pocket. She laced her fingers together where they rested daintily in her lap. "So Johann, what brings you here? Just a quiet place to escape or simply nothing better to do?" She was curious about him now, letting her eyes rake over without being too rude. "Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking? You don't sound quite as local as I've gotten used to hearing.." |
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| Johann | Sunday, 25. November 2012, 16:45 Post #6 |
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Emily. I shall remember that. In fact, the Tzimisce understood little else of what she considered to be sensible talk. But he did note her fascination, and that alone was an incentive to keep her alive. Perhaps he had unwittingly flared a passion with his words, and passions were usually the cause of irrational thoughts. Like prying into the affairs of a stranger on a dark and cold night. “Ein Hungerkünstle.” He repeated with the same blank expression. “But I recommend any of the works of Franz Kafka. He possessed an inspired outlook upon the human condition.” Or at least a view a Fiend could appreciate. And yet her questions continued, she continued to dance with the devil. Had he not been sat here this evening, and his place been taken by one of the billions of ordinary people on earth, even then she likely could have run into a maniac who would rape and kill her in a heartbeat. To some degree, he was impressed by her foolishness. So he decided to indulge her. A small rare smile appeared on his lips as he summoned the dark and dashing showman from within. He gave a brief chuckle, seemingly at her fanatic enthusiasm. “You are full of questions.” His tone barely altered, but definitely there was a warmth and charm, artificial though they may be. “I was born near Graz, in Austria.” He explained, and perhaps that was the only truth she would hear out of him for the night. “My parents died when I was very young, and I grew up on my own. I didn’t have time for education.” his eyes seemed to swell with the pain of a memory, an emotion he had copied from victims as they gave their silent farewells to loved ones as they slipped into nothingness. “But now I do.” Another small smile though dampened with sorrow “This evening warranted a much needed break.” His eyes suddenly swivelled around the empty park again. Still quiet. “Sorry, what am I saying. So rarely do I meet such interesting young ladies. I would love to hear about your studies Emily; People and places are a fascination of mine as well.” Though I suspect she doesn’t mean travelling in a freak show and experimenting on different townsfolk he thought, turning his body to her and with his arm resting on the back of the bench, he tilted his head and supported it with his hand, gazing dreamily at her. Though I don’t think I’ve ever had an American. “I’m curious about your journeys. And what would possess such a lovely young lady to travel the world.” Emotions were so easily toyed with. Certain words and movements could easily unmask Grief, Pride, Anger...or Affection. If he could willingly lure her in, it would probably be more enjoyable for her. He wished to abash her with empty compliments, test her sensitivity and character, and it would make her all the easier to break. “I assume it’s Miss Carraway?” Another charming smile to hide his crocodile nature behind a friendly persona. “Tell me.” |
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| Sloane Carraway | Sunday, 17. February 2013, 18:56 Post #7 |
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Only my mother calls me Emily... She thought to herself distantly as she watched the man beside her turn to face her with a genuinely interested gaze fixed upon her. He spoke of his curiosity about her and her journeys, and spoke it in such a way that she was nearly bursting at the seams with happiness in finally meeting someone she could truly share her passions with. It was lonely sometimes, being such a free spirit in a world that demanded control and persistence to thrive. Very rarely did she come across another soul that shared her love for freedom and adventure. "Yes, Miss indeed..." She answered his question, returning his charming smile with one of her own. "I'm apparently a rather rare breed of American. One that hungers for knowledge and passion. At least that's what I've been told. Personally, I hunger for something deeper. This world is constantly moving and changing in all different directions, but the real beauty of it is finding the places that have stayed the same... And studying them. I mean, why did they stay the same in the first place? Why would someone choose to leave it as it is and not change it like everything else has been?" Sloane cut herself off, looking away for a moment and shaking her head. She was getting ahead of herself already and she hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet. So enraptured by the philosophy and ideas of the things that moved and shaped her was she that she couldn't even hold a thought without being bombarded with fifteen other ones! Ones that she wanted to share just as badly as the one on her tongue. She looked back to him again, turning her body to practically mirror his and smiling softly, "They are the same as they were centuries before because they are already beautiful just the way they are. Take... Stonehenge for example!" She had begun talking with her hands, moving gracefully with her tone and pitch of voice. It was something her mother couldn't stand, but she hadn't been this excited to talk to someone in quite some time. "The myths and magic behind the structure are all very interesting, but imagine what people of the modern world must have thought of it when they first saw it. Most people only see an eerie, cleverly stacked pile of rocks, but if that's all it is, why leave it there?" She paused, sucking in a breath and slowing herself down a notch or four. "Because someone like me saw the beauty in it. They saw that it was a result of someone's dedication, and quite literally their blood, sweat, and tears. The people that constructed it in that time and day had to have gone to ridiculous lengths to make such a thing exist, and think how structurally sound they had to make it for it to still be standing, thousands of years later. The passion those people had to have had to make such a thing happen... That's why it's still here. Because someone sees that things like that, whether it be rocks or canvas' swathed in paint, is worth keeping and protecting." She was suddenly very aware of the fact that she had talked nonstop without taking a breath for at least five minutes. A blush crept up to her cheeks as she looked down to her hands in her lap for a moment, sighing and collecting herself once more, "Forgive me. I could talk about the subject for days without sleeping... But that's why I travel. I want to see the beauty in this world. Before someone destroys that too. Hopeless romantics and free spirits are a dying breed." She smiled rather sadly to him, "So, are you here on study as well, or is London home now?" |
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| Johann | Thursday, 21. February 2013, 01:44 Post #8 |
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Now wasn't a this a most interesting development. Beyond belief in fact. The more she rambled on about the great mysteries of of the earth, of history and of man's touch upon both... He found himself becoming more uncharacteristically entranced. She was misguided of course, but that didn't matter. Her eagerness and passion could lead her to trouble... Or greatness. His eyes glistened with a rare joy, and even after she had asked her question he remained wide eyed and dumbfounded. "I...Please there's no need to apologise." He wasn't exactly speechless, and but maintaining a this facade and processing these thoughts were proving difficult. I "You say you could talk about such wonders at such length... I think I would like to listen. You're passionate and enchanting. What an incredible young woman you are." he smiled. A smile that was 75% genuine. He found himself in something of a perfect situation, win-win for him. She was likely to lose, but he'd been surprissd before. And she had the potential to get eveything she'd dreamed of. Funny how these things worked out. "I think you'll enjoy your stay in London, Emily. I have learnt so much. I would like very much to make it my home. Settle down in my studies... Perhaps start a family." He wanted her to be flabbergasted, and flattered, overwhelmed with excitement. Seduction was not a skill he possessed, but he could share a common interest with a person, and manipulate them into thinking they just found their new best friend. Especially those so far from home. "And you. Do you intend on staying here much longer, or do i need to convince you. I I find it refreshing to talk with someone as fascinated with this strange world as me." He mimicked her body language, a building glee with the nervousness in opening up to a stranger. It was much easier to do when he had an example. It was the perfect set up to test the water. "Can you imagine how much has been lost? Forgotten? How much time we spend trying to learn more, never knowing if we'll have enough. If only there was more time. Don't you wish things were just that much clearer?" |
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| Sloane Carraway | Saturday, 23. February 2013, 09:55 Post #9 |
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Sloane beamed from ear to ear as he spoke. He was as intriguing as he still was mysterious. An orphan that wandered the world with nothing but the hunger to find something more meaningful keeping him going? It was inspiring...tragic, but bittersweet in it's own regard. He showered her with flattery in a way she never thought possible; he wasn't trying to lure her into his bed or keep her on his arm as if she were a trophy that was won. He was simply interested in a meaningful conversation. "I honestly don't know how long I'll be here. I don't really have a home to return to right now. I've definitely enjoyed my stay so far, though. It seems like this city is endless. Every time I think I've seen everything there is to see, I stumble upon something else to explore and learn about. I've even gone looking for bogie men!" She giggled lightly, suddenly feeling weightless. So this was what being care-free felt like? Sitting on this bench with Johann had been the most enlightening and relaxing experience she'd had yet while here. It was almost impossible how completely comfortable she felt with him in that moment. As he asked her his questions, fueling their conversation, she felt as if she could die happily having found at least one person in this world that was on the same wave-length as she was so completely. If she weren't so practical, she'd probably begin to think she'd met her soul mate or something equally squishy and romantic, "I think it's human nature to want to know the unknown. We're constantly searching the dark corners of this world and universe for the answers, yet we're also so afraid of what we'll find. I think somethings are hidden for a reason, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be found and understood either. Someone made it for some reason or another... Whether it was for good or bad is all in the hands of who finds it." She looked away, pondering his questions a little more deeply. It broke her heart trying to fathom how much has been lost through time and space. "I don't even want to begin wondering about what will never be seen. I can't imagine leaving this world without leaving something behind to be remembered by. I don't need to be revered or celebrated in chorus. I just want someone to know that I really lived, you know? To see that I did everything I possibly could to simply live, and I made something that in my eyes, is breathtakingly beautiful. To share. So someone may see the world the way I do." She smiled softly as she stared out into the quiet emptiness of the park, "'Time is just an illusion'..." She whispered wistfully. |
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| Johann | Wednesday, 27. February 2013, 23:58 Post #10 |
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As he let her took, something alien stirred and slithered behind the mask. The creature flickered its tongue and hissed in approval. It was almost too perfect, and had Johann been of a more paranoid persuasion everything might have been ruined. But his thought process remained as calm and rational as ever, and while not believing in fate, he could appreciate the slim probability of having someone so perfect fall right into his lap. Here. Alone. In the dark and quiet night. He could snatch the life right out of her. But he was a patient man, and believed first and foremost in doing these things right. Especially when the experience would be equally as new for him as it would be for her. He smile widened as she continued, partly because of the virtues she expanded on, though mainly his dark plans. Being so jaded made for a boring existence, he even risked thinking that the experience could be enjoyable. "That is a noble ambition. I can think of nothing greater to do with my life. I'm sure you'll make your mark on this planet. In fact... " Showtime... His expression turned coy, almost devious as he leaned in a little closer. " Can you keep a secret? I have a new project. Very new in fact but it's so...Wonderful... I can't really explain, but it's made me feel something I've never felt before. But if you were to see it...I mean, if you're going to be in London a little longer?" His tone was excited, but underlying was something of a plea: a wish that his dear new friend would witness this work of art and be astounded by it too. And while his puppy dog eyes shined with childish fantasy, the reptile beneath licked its chops. He had a new goal, and a new ambition; a new hunger. He would struggle to control himself, but it had to be done right. |
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| Sloane Carraway | Friday, 1. March 2013, 05:05 Post #11 |
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Secrets? Who couldn't resist wanting to know a secret? To learn a small piece of knowledge that no one else in the world was privy to? Sloane nodded her head slowly, wondering where Johann was taking this, "You want me to see it?" She asked, wondering if she should be surprised or flattered. This man was an artist? She knew what it meant to be asked to see another's little slice of obsession and passion. Literally their everything. Their blood, sweat, and tears. To be asked that was almost as serious as being asked for her hand in marriage. At least it was in her eyes. Judging by his hopeful, excited, plea, he shared a passion as deep as hers for art. "I'd love to..." She whispered, smiling softly to him. Her cheeks blushed an innocent rosy pink and her blue eyes twinkled deftly. This wasn't something that she experienced every day, or even every week. Or month, for that matter. She looked at her watch, realizing the time. Had she seriously been sitting her for almost an hour talking to a complete stranger? "I'm sorry, I wish I didn't have to cut this short, but I have class in the morning..." She bit her lip and let her disappointment in her responsibility be seen. She stood up, stretching and fussing with her shoe strings before making to take her leave, "I'd very much like to see you again, Johann..." She said with a timid smile, "I run here almost every evening... Don't be a stranger." She hesitantly coaxed herself to break away from his gravitational pull, letting her feet carry her in a graceful, trotting pace. If he tried to stop her, or even went so far as to join her in her departure, she may just have to marry him. |
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| Johann | Tuesday, 5. March 2013, 00:17 Post #12 |
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Things were simply perfect. What initial disappointment he felt at her departure was soon rationally put to rest. Time. He needed time, to find the space and make arrangements. His haven was too small for such a formal affair, and as terrible inspiration ran through his mind, he realised it was going to take a lot more than space. His smile echoed her sentiment, how much he would long to see her again. But he would plan, prepare...understand how best to break her. As she turned away, he felt a dull sickening feeling in his stomach; what if something happened to her? What if she managed to escape? Statistically, the chance of their first meeting was miniscule, and while she would frequent the park, he didn't trust everything else in the city to make sure that happened. His eyes had undoubtedly lost that charming sparkle as he looked her top-to-toe, examining her body like a cut of meat. She was his now. "Emily!" he called out, scooping the book to his chest and giving chase. The charm was poured back on, he hid away the hunger. The fear however, was a different matter. He was somewhat panicked by the thought of losing her before he'd even begun, it was a something he was so unused to, not felt since he watched his travelling home burn all around him. But given the situation, a little desperation wasn't amiss. "As willing as I am to sit here every night if it means having the pleasure of your company, who am I to interrupt your alone time? Besides, I don't want to leave such a thing to chance." He couldn't say he was acting anymore, admittedly the emotion was emphasized to give a more human feel to his persona, but even so he had talked himself into this, and the thought of someone else taking her made his blood boil. A hand disappeared into his breast pocket and retrieved a short biro, ordinarily not used anywhere outside the operating room. He paused for a moment as he traced the streets of London, trying to remember anywhere that would bode useful: the address for a studio in Camden popped into his head. He cracked open the Kafka, and on the publishers notes scribbled the address in his spidery scrawl. "I work here, it's not far from the market." He looked at her and smiled without faking it, his eyes almost watering in awe at how perfect she could be. He gentle closed the book and held it towards her. The worth of items never really weigh on his conscious, and an original Kafka now sullied with his scribbles was no loss if she were to take it. "I'd love for you to come visit. I work late almost every night. I'm sure you would find it a most welcome diversion." She could think on his proposal, but there was little choice in the grand scheme of things. He motioned down the path ahead, or at least as the darkness would permit. Who knew what ghosts and goblins lay hidden in it? "Shall we?" |
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| Sloane Carraway | Tuesday, 5. March 2013, 01:06 Post #13 |
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Hearing Johann's voice carry behind her was like music to her ears. Sloane slowed down, and finally stopped just a few feet ahead of him on the path. She did everything to contain her happiness as she turned, letting a small smile shine through as she watched him come closer, "Yes?" she asked sweetly. She felt her blush warm her cheeks as he continued to charm and flatter her. Where had this man been all her life? Finally, someone who appreciated the unseen beauty and potential around them as much as she did; who could hold an intelligent conversation, and was as old-fashioned as it got. This didn't feel contemporary, it felt proper... respectful. Was this his way of courting her? If so, she could definitely get used to it. She looked at the book he was handing her with a small ounce of surprise in her gaze. It seemed this book meant something significant to him when she had first approached him earlier this evening, and now he was willing to give it to her? She reached out and took the book from his outstretched hand gingerly, looking at his penmanship before carefully clutching the worn pages to her chest. The smile that lit up her face was sincere; he was instilling a lot of trust in her. But was he worth trusting? For all she knew, this man could a modern day Jack the Ripper. "I could come by tomorrow evening? I have dinner plans, but I'd really like to see this project of yours..." She chewed her lip, looking away as she contemplated how she'd make time for it when she really had much more then dinner plans to worry about. School was weighing heavily on her shoulders, "I'll come by. It shouldn't be too late." He motioned to continue walking, "We shall." She answered, the bright smile she had quick to return. |
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1:48 AM Jul 11