Posts by lockiesaurus

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; height: 120px; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto][justify]it sounds amazing tbh like omg
yeah, ofc not, i don't mind one bit ;w;
plus it's easy to think of additional subplots for the future

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; height: 120px; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto][justify]i'm glad you liked it ;w;
take your time!! it's a busy season after all ^^
omg yess and sherlock is probably just gonna move on so fast like the next day he'll probably act like nothing happened lmao well you can't really blame him tbh xD

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; height: 120px; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto][justify]yes!! that's actually a wonderful subplot. i've been thinking at some stage when they're just hanging around dinner according to tradition muse b could invite the other to their house and tries to cook for them?
maybe he could mess up like horribly and then muse a could teach him how to cook? idk
it is so cute i can't wait /w/

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; height: 120px; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto][justify]yess!! i'm glad you like the idea (8
and yeah, that's completely okay, i'm usually bad with starters either way i'm fangirling tbh too
i usually use realistic ones but whichever suits you best c:

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; height: 120px; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto][justify]that's completely okay ;w;
i feel you. i'll try my best to reply asap (:

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 29px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]Aalia Sabina I. Solvita[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: white; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]It was undeniably cold outside, although that's to be expected of winter. Even so, Ali could feel a shiver climb down her spine in response to the chill. She layered herself in multiple warm clothing but remained rather cold in the chilly evening. Rubbing her hands to produce more heat between them, the gloves that clung to them obviously not enough to appropriately follow their purpose, she grunted softly. Wandering about in this time of the season and weather was pretty silly on her part, but who could blame her? She had to get out. Sort of, anyway. She did have a part-time job that helped her too much to simply let go of because of the approaching coldness. Although it never paid much and couldn't be called a real job in the end either, at least it helped a tiny bit. All that she'd need.

Specifically, there wasn't a need for help either. Everything was going fine. With food and clothes and a roof above your head, it's difficult to disagree. That didn't mean that she possessed no expenses and didn't know that saving was a good plan to have. These sort of tiny things always proved themselves worthy in the end. Even if they'd add up to things like her college tuition, that'd be amazing, even if that sort of the future was for yet a while to come. Slipping inside the house felt like a step in heaven. Warmth immediately radiated onto her face and she was able to peel off the layers of her clothing.

For a while, she lounged around the house with nothing particular to do, through the window in her bedroom watching the snowy streets reflect the sky's light. It wasn't particularly exciting, rather numbing in fact but she didn't mind. Then, as a boy about her age wandered over, peaking her interest, she watched a short exchange between him and his father, then watched the thin figure retire to start moving most of the snow off her family's driveway. After a few minutes of gnawing on her lip and thinking, she rushed downstairs and pulled on the layers again. It was freezing outside and the boy looked like he'd need a break before he collapses in the snow. Groaning softly at the abandoning of the inside warm conditions, she slid outside and shivered again. "[b]Hi," she called out to the male, blinking at his companion in the form of a canine that followed him. A smile laced her lips and she made sure to make it a friendly one. "I was wondering if you'd like to come inside for a few minutes? It's really cold." She offered a little hesitantly, head tilted in general curiosity.
[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 470px; color: black; font-size: 6pt; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | PREMADE FANCY | #BOKEHFANCY[/fancypost]

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[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 250px; margin-left: -15px; margin-top: -3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: georgia; color: #111; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 0px; text-transform: lowercase; line-height: 9px;] stepped into a church I passed along the way
well I got down on my knees, and I pretend to pray[/fancypost]
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the carnevale was always vast, the fondly looked forth to event marking its way through a path of bright lights and cheerful screeches surrounding the city. venezia always looked fantastic, more lively than any other day during the year. the colors made it spring to life like a butterfly climbing from its cocoon. day by day leading to the beautiful occasion, newly added flourishing decorations began to appear. they ranged between pieces of ribbon carefully wrapped around streetlights or in the form of lights twinkling away in the dark, the glass casting a colored shadow until it would burn out and fade into the onyx of the night. banners were flung on the narrow streets and bridges that led passages between the flowing venezian rivers added a beautiful tint to the overall picture created.

those decorations always succeeded in creating a matching beautiful atmosphere of expectancy and cheer. by the night that the fun began, fabio always succeeded to be on edge, awaiting the beauty that awaited outside of the plainly build buildings which were called homes. life could be dull outside those times, with plague and uncertain cures, thieves and courtesans spread around the city with mild success. it was no place for actual daily life, unless accounted for the wealthier class, one which he by far didn’t belong to. not many did but the joy of the situation was never taken away from them either. that made life a little more livable, in the sense of the word. in each way available, he loved to help, if only for the sake of feeling accountable in a minor percentage for the success of the carnevale. there was always a reason for everything after all, though he’d like to imagine his own wasn’t unnecessarily selfish. each year from the day he was able to, he’d assist in decorating the streets that he could manage, enjoying to watch people marvel over them while they passed. presumably quite a few did, for he couldn’t imagine he was alone in admiring the scenery.

never mind that the actual smells of foods were mixed into perfection, lulling buyers to numerous stands to spend valuable coins in order to take a taste of some various traditional dishes available. often, the young male found himself picking up a few of the scattered gleaming items, for they fell out of purses in a hurry and with the bustling about failed to be noticed until the aftermath of the carnevale came. it was better to sneak in chances when they were still there. those were always a nice thing to come across. snatching a single coin even then, the male grinned to himself, fitting the mask over his face more appropriately to hide his features before twisting around on his heel, surprised to find himself bumping into another silhouette of a human. “ah-” with a soft groan, fabio regained composure, his tilted as emerald eyes found amber ones of his own. “no, it’s fine. my wrongdoing,” he apologised quickly, frowning as the other began to clamber away. he didn’t understand why, nor why did he follow, but he did, in the midst of his confusion and intrigue, he began to attempt slipping between the various participants in chase of gowned individual.

//sorry for the wait, i was sick this weekend and couldn't really reply .m.
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template made by #near - hidden scrolling present[/fancypost]
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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: lowercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -15px;]♛ EVAN J. cross[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -30px;]MALE -- 22 YEARS OLD -- CLUMSY, FRIENDLY[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: COLOR; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;]Today was ought to be a perfect day. At least, if it went according to plan rather than brutally twist in the exact opposite of what it was originally meant to be. For the next few days, there was meant to be a free spot in which he could retire into the comfortable, lavishing lifestyle of luxurious rest. That little pin attached to how he'd like to spend the upcoming while was dashing through his head for the last hours, perhaps even from last night when he was first formally introduced to the news. To set things clear; Evan didn't hate his job. He loved it, absolutely at peace with the job he was assigned. Although it was the one of a lab technician, not really much more of a person who'd merely set up equipment and scribble notes, he enjoyed it. There was still space for a possible better future, maybe even he'd become an actual scientist. As things stood for the time being, his comfort zone remained with assisting rather than being assisted. Through possible development within the job that came with experience maybe eventually he'd move to ask and hope for a more independent spot. That is, as soon as he grew tired or bored of the current situation he found himself.

Then, his plans step by step got damned into seventh hell. First of all, he had to stay at his work for much longer than intended. He was supposed to be home for what he counted would be three hours in another few minutes. His feet were piercing with pain that came from standing too long and being forced into walking the last mile or so home for the sake of his friend's comfort. Originally it didn't bother him but by the time he got home, the aching in his feet worsened with each step and he could only pray that the promised rest would be there soon. There was also a light headache situation going on that was hurriedly numbed by some painkillers and a lot of water. Upon entering, he unceremoniously dumped his jacket off at the couch, groaning like the zombies in TV would in the best of their moments and dragged his heavy, tired body off to the kitchen. His shoes followed the jacket, leaving a trail as if he wanted someone to find him if they came in. The two shoes were a certain distance apart, maybe a foot or a little above that. Next came his scarf which he held onto for the sake of warmth, loosely left tied to the chair that decorated the room by the table. Following, he threw off his beanie onto the counter, giving a final grunt by that time, for the sheer sake of portraying his exhaustion to the haunting loneliness of the house.

Leaning against the counter, he glanced around and strained to peek into the slightly opened doors of the pantry. It must have banged open again during the impact while he rushed around trying to prepare himself for work that morning. Frowning at the emptiness, he took another look at the fridge and shook his head a little. There was a quiet meow from his side, causing his attention to snap from the current problem in the form of empty cupboards to be instead replaced with gentle affection. "Hey, Cindy," Evan purred softly to the kitten, sharing a grin with the silver-coated feline, who gave a gentle purr in return, rubbed against his legs and then proudly as she was stalked off to where her bowls were, followed by the background noise of cat food pieces scratching against the plastic of the set dishes.

For a moment that was the only sound in the house, which didn't bother him at all. It was almost always empty so the grace of the light scatter was more than he could imagine. Twisting around, he began to look for anything he could use in order to prepare something to eat. Overall, there had to be something. He was never particularly striving, his fridge barely full but there was always something. Managing to scoop a few neglected items up, he spread the objects before him, eyeing and surveying to rack his brain and see what he could make out of the ingredients. Maybe at most some pasta and a sort of sauce if he really wanted to push himself that far. Truth was, so soon before his paycheck and soon after paying all of his bills, he couldn't afford delivery. His paycheck was ought to get to him the following day, where he could relax with the certainty he could afford anything he may need and desire through the couple of days off. He was no good of a cook, relying on his friends and delivery people to lend him a hand instead. It was one way to avoid the massacre he made of the kitchen every time he made an attempt at preparing something by himself. There wasn't much of a choice this day, it appeared.

With a gentle sigh, he set a saucepan of water off to boil, looking up different sauces that would fit with the set ingredients before him, flicking through the different google results of the search. The simplest one seemed to be spaghetti. Spaghetti it was. Shifting through the different items spread before him, Evan hummed a gentle note, meant to help him work and what other excuse he would make up to save himself. Throughout the following minutes, he struggled to piece things together and it hit him as a realization dawning upon him that he didn't even possess the most important ingredient. Was there a way to make the Bolognese sauce without tomatoes? Probably not, he figured. They were the most important part of the recipe. Cursing his luck, he moved to have a quick scan through the pantries again only to grumble and flick off the warmth of the oven with a solid frown ebbed onto his features. What he sought to be perfect that evening seemed to crumble before his very own two eyes and he couldn't really appreciate it all to deal with it appropriately.

Unsurprisingly by the desperation for at least one thing to go right that day, he began to slowly piece the warm layering of his outdoor clothing back together, pulling the beanie sloppily to contain his hair and then withdrawing slowly out of the room and eventually the house. His first guess was to go ask his neighbors, see if they could help, so he tried a shot at his next door neighbor, though was met with the cold silence of unanswered doors. By that time feeling a light shiver surpass his spine, he went back to grumbling, rubbing his hands for additional heat as he was coolly reminded it was getting late and therefore more chilly. Chewing on his lip, he decided to try a spot at the other door, supposing that maybe the more friendly-appearing neighbor would be kindly enough to accept the asking for help.

Met with puffy, reddish eyes, the ones of a victim of tears, he frowned a little more, forcing a now faker smile on his lips to cover original worry. "Eh, hi..." He trailed off, shifting from one foot to the other in an attempt to relax a little, feeling immensely awkward now that he was answered. "Is something wrong? You look like you've been crying. I-I don't mean to pry, of course!" He assured him hurriedly, scratching the back of his neck. "I had a really bad day honestly and I wanted to make myself dinner and then, well, I don't have tomatoes and nothing's working out like planned, at all, and I was wondering, I mean... I know it sounds weird but uh... Can I borrow tomatoes? If you have any?" Taking in a deep breath towards the end of his speech, his cheeks flushed in gentle embarrassment, to the point where he caught the gentle music and whiff of a deliciously prepared meal. "O-Oh, I'm sorry... Are you having guests over?" He mumbled, feeling even more so guilty that he'd intrude on something as personal.[/fancypost]

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 25px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]WILLIAM SHERLOCK S. HOLMES[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: black; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]Sherlock quickly became tired. Not of the situation itself, not really, finding another chance to openly talk with the doctor gave an opportunity for his mind to ease for the first time in the longest while, upon the dawning look that he may as well be forgiven as well, he couldn't feel more at home. Although 221B has been noted as his housing, shared with John himself, he'd never felt more like he belonged before this moment. There was never this sort of attachment that he'd possess with inanimate objects, if not counting the skull that held it's place on the mantelpiece. For a while, it appeared as his only friend, which he admittedly didn't mind one bit. Having one friend was better than too many, especially for it was in the end only a piece of apparent bone. A great assistance in many cases, if he was to be honest, for it often offered the support of listening without being capable of. Neither did it argue or think too loudly itself, like he made it known he didn't like. People who did those things while he was attempting to focus were absolutely useless, especially if they took the attitude of Anderson and not only dismissed his word but on purposely messed with it. Like the forensic scientist wanted to make life difficulty for everyone, never mind himself along with that.

Talking out loud always helped him focus. It made those thoughts sharper, more visual and accessible in ways he couldn't really describe but was fully aware of. In the best of ways, the skull was the closest he's had of a 'partner' before moving into the flat. Now, he could feel a little nostalgic but knew very well that it deserved retirement. Likely, the thing heard enough to deserve a break, especially since it mostly contained the blabber of excitement present in Sherlock whenever the clues would begin to connect and move in his brain and he couldn't form appropriate sentences under the impulse of thinking faster than he could speak. That sort of chatter always appeared to leave others confused, on various and multiple occasions resulting in him plainly dashing out of the door in search of whatever he managed to find. Only after a while did he start to notice in pieces how difficult it must have been to actually work with him, though he still trusted that with his contributions towards the London police department, those things could be oversaw. Just like Lestrade did, most of the time anyway. At least he argued less.

Nobody seemed to reason the way he did. The gentle stretch of realization across John's face was enough to make him smile, however. He was getting it. Maybe after all the time they've spent in each other's company, some of himself was wearing off on him, just like it was happening to him. Obviously, without his flatmate, chances were he'd never develop the appreciation and cautiousness he bore for others, even if it was still minimal. The meeting had some impact on him, he couldn't really hide that. He allowed a moment pass to let the other male organize whatever thoughts may be racking his brain. It wasn't easy to solve, overall he attempted his best to make the plan impenetrable for as long as necessary to keep everyone in safety and go according to the thought. With the amount of assumption and thinking he threw into it, it wasn't a case that would go easily solved, equal to what he'd hoped it'd be. The curl of a smile stretched further at the confirmation of his thought. "[b]There you go. If you didn't see me hit the ground, remember never to presume. Do you recall what I told you before? Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Nobody checked into the impossible, allowing it to never be eliminated. A primary mistake." He shrugged lightly before sinking into the familiar comfort of his seat.

Improbably, he missed it to, shifting a little to acquire that same feeling he could enjoy whenever everything was in peace but not quite yet so. However much he disagreed, Sally was right about him being terribly prone to boredom. With at least a light buzz of interest around, he found it easier to relax. Without anything for his brain to work on, it felt very much hollow. He simply didn't like to be unoccupied, though he never saw that as a bad trait and neither should the police. If they were cutting slack he may as well fill them in on whatever may intrigue him and leave them to do what they always did. From his perspective, that never was much, but he became rather quiet in voicing that opinion, unless unnerved enough to bring the point back to the surface. The sooner they realize their mistakes, the better, he'd argue though mostly to deaf ears. Nobody particularly that he knew off enjoyed his little resemblance of a fight that took place between him and the police. It only annoyed others more than others, those counting in the majority of the police. That specific relation didn't matter to him all that deeply though. Admittedly, there were other, more interesting groups and people he could pursue to withstand and communicate with.

Seeing how bad of a bad impression he could apparently make, though, wasn't a helpful thing in this case. Even on that day when he met John, he was freshly out of the morgue after involving some corpse in an experiment. That would be a lovely reminder of where his riding crop was too, for he seemed to misplace it again. A bad thing to happen with the heavy mindset of 'I could use that again' that he possessed towards such experimental equipment, ranging widely from flasks and Bunsen burners to body parts and other such gruesome details that - as he learned - people often didn't stand in the favor of either. Apparently, there wasn't anything completely good with the world. Without his experiments, he'd figure his level of boredom would have increased to an insufferable amount and he supposed that if it saved him from more frequent complaining then he'd be rather fine with that. As if he didn't make it quite yet clear that he had no interest in following orders.

Listening to John, taking it as a sign of forgiveness, he relaxed a little further, nuzzling into the chair with a smirk. That was one less thing to worry about. Knowing that his actions wouldn't lead to further issues with one person was comforting news, even if there at first was a risk of physical injury and frankly a fair share of angered tones, for the lack of a better description. All in one, the confrontation wasn't quite as bad as he'd imagined multiple times before. "Well, I'm glad you were able to have a peek from my perspective. I could name a few people who'd never bother," he admitted, deciding to abandon the more emotional overcoming for the time being. As much as it wasn't pushed away, in a way even welcomed, he still needed time to get used to it, and frankly the nagging feeling it brought about wasn't helping him one piece. Like an annoying drone inside of his head that wouldn't let go for anything in the world. How could people deal with that on a daily basis? Perhaps that's what protected them from the dull and remarkably boring manners of their existences.

John apparently wasn't on the same train of thought, judging by the little scratch done by his right foot that he felt scolded, maybe embarrassed with his earlier presumptions. Sherlock couldn't figure out the difference and honestly didn't care much for it. With both of the probabilities equally easy to put in place, he didn't place any before the other. There wasn't a distinguishable way for him to tell them apart, while the lone fact that the earlier outburst was over was enough to keep him off the edge for now. Quirking his brow at the inquiry, he shrugged lightheartedly, waving his hand as if the answer wasn't truly worth the curiosity. "Here and there," he answered plainly, a sly smile on his lips. "Occasionally at Mycroft's, not that he'd know of, that is. Other times I'd use past secret identities used for Level 10 cases. Disguises were possibly my biggest entertainment." He chuckled, shrugging lightheartedly once more. "I've not stayed in one place for too long though. That would just make it easier to be detected before the righteous time came around." He hummed, scoffing lightly before shaking his head. "You'd be surprised. Nobody looks for a dead man."

The smile remained on Sherlock's face for a while longer, the atmosphere feeling a lot looser than it had before, enabling him to relax once more rather than stress over whatever response may come next. His mouth opened again in a possible comment he was about to make, stopped by the knock on the doors. Eyes blown wide, he trailed his gaze to the doors, cursing as he jumped out of the comfortable position he managed to nestle into. "Mrs. Hudson?" He hissed, tone no more than a whisper in result of not wishing to be caught. There wasn't certainty that there wouldn't be rumors spreading after the elderly woman saw him. "She's visiting you?" He barked, staring between the doors and his companion. Eventually abandoning any hope, he waved his arms a little in frantic tiny gestures. "Let her in, before she gets suspicious. I need a moment to think." He sighed in resignation, planning to possible slip away for the remains of the stay though doubted that'd be possible if his voice was already heard. If so, his disappearance would still get him precious seconds to be able and think through some plan. Without another word, only the frown of worry contorting his features, he crept off in the direction of his bedroom.

[ooc.] my muse is bursting out the roof for this i love this thread already
i absolutely adore the idea of john just doing that bc i think he'd be totally like "in second thought it could be worst tbh"
same here like damn that man has good patience xD
aww thank you <3333 i love your roleplaying style too /w/
that's fine lmao i don't have limitations but i have a few trigger warnings? not any major ones but yeah /w/ i don't really mind mature themes tho cx
ooh yes
i don't mind ofc i'd love to have them interact as well bc she'd probably be like "wut" at first and then just grin and go all "well you must be hungry after pretending to be dead for all those months (:"
it's fine, it was amazing the way it was <3333
[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 470px; color: black; font-size: 6pt; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | PREMADE FANCY | #BOKEHFANCY[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: lowercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -15px;]♛ EVAN J. CROSS[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -30px;]MALE -- 22 YEARS OLD -- CLUMSY, FRIENDLY[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: COLOR; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;]There were moments before when he'd been embarrassed. That one time when he didn't realize his sneaker wasn't properly tied, resulting in one of the loose strings catching underfoot and causing him to tumble, therefore bringing along with him many items that pushed into motion a domino-like track, ending up being some sort of a vintage vase that then decorated a small decorative table not too far away from where he fell. It was supposedly rich with sentimental meaning, though didn't look like it through the dirty coat over the paint, with mismatched colors that ached to look at. To this day, he was still reminded of the accident where he broke a vase and along with that possibly shattered his grandmother's heart into about as many pieces as he had to clean up from a spreading puddle. Supposedly, time was supposed to heal wounds but that didn't appear to the case that time. Even now, with each family visit he received at least one glare before things could return back to normal. Luckily enough, family visits weren't frequent, neither were they long allowing him to return to his primarily guilt-free environment in peace.

Not that he particularly liked to be alone. As it stood, as long as the people surrounding him weren't too draining to spend time with, he was more than comfortable to spend time with them. Overly crowded spaces didn't work in his favor, explaining perfectly well why his most favorable companionship was in the form of Cinderella, the little kitten who'd he managed to find as a stray while coming back home from work. She immediately caught his attention, mewling pathetically from the spot where she's been abandoned. Immediately taking pity, he wrapped the tiny furball tightly in his jacket to preserve her warmth and turned from the journey to instead take her to the vet, where she was cleansed, checked for possible diseases and fed. As it turned out, she was allowed to start eating dry food only about a week and a half ago, so he spend a lot of the mornings and afternoons between that feeding her from a bottle. He loved the kitten, not even just because the feeling was reciprocated but because she wasn't meant to survive. All that time he hasn't given her a name in fear of bonding with her, for kittens fed by bottle don't receive the same nutrition, things like that. Animal anatomy blabber that he found hard to understand.

It was relaxing to know that his little miracle in the form of a spoiled, furry kitten was awaiting his return patiently in home. Unlike it's said that a dog would, likely stretched out on the blanket always left on the couch which she admired to stretch and roll over before nuzzling herself to sleep. She's black out in the blink of an eye, unless he stirred too much or made a move indicating standing up. In some odd way, she reminded him of a dog, only she was unbelievably cat-like as well. For the past two months or so, she was his most loyal companion, and in decent honesty, he liked it that way more than any other. The feeling of previous loneliness dissolved as he found himself taking care of the tiny feline. After a while, he forgot why he felt so lonely in the first place and he couldn't recall the last time he'd feel alone in his own house, now usually buzzing with the presence of the kitten in a comforting, yet distant manner that he was perfectly fine with. Evan didn't precisely have anyone close to spend time with, unless counting his 'fellow nerds' as they were referred to by the other scientists they worked with, being only a manner of gentle teasing, meaningless and playful at most. He never bothered with actually minding it.

In fact, his little 'fellowship of nerds' was enough to keep him happy. There was no need for outrageous amounts of friends to be happy, right? As long as they found common interests and could spend day and night chatting away with uppermost ease, wasting away time merrily together while watching movies or whatever popped into their minds, he was likely the happiest man on the Earth. Time that he spend with the three others was positively influential on his lifestyle, creating the sense of comfort and support, including at work where they always met up with each other, despite working in ranging fields. He always was hanging around the chemistry labs, since that's the direction he pursued. Michael out of the group, for one, assisted with astronomical sightings and whatnot. Despite their interests ranging slightly, there were ties and connections to everything that created easy topics if one could manage and catch up with them. Usually they never spoke with language that was beyond understanding, though he could easily assumed someone without the experience in the same matters may have a gentle struggle in the excited exchange of what happened to each to them during the day.

That reminded him that they were ought to meet up again soon, though no date was chosen yet. That would step into his lounging time, but he likely would be fine to survive through it. Unless they chose a working day, an equally good possibility. Some of them weren't even graced with the little holiday just yet either. Thus, he was left to his own devices for the time being. Not that he actually minded. Tonight was supposed to be special after all, with him being able to nestle onto the couch with Cindy on his lap, purring away while he had a sitting of some movies, maybe the Lord of the Rings or something along those lines. Something long and brain numbing, preferably. Then he was supposedly going to eat and slowly succumb to eventual rest after the whole day spend away working at the laboratory. It was his final, very much so deserved rest that now seemed to only distance himself from him.

Having to ask around for things to prepare his dinner from, never mind that was embarrassing on it's own, since it suggested strongly just how empty his kitchen must be. He didn't want to be a charity case but even so, he had to eat a proper meal, after barely finishing his lunch at work. Asking for tomatoes too, sounded like the strangest thing that anyone could have come up with and if anyone told him before that he'd find himself in the position he was currently in, he wouldn't have believed them. His pride would likely prevent him from suggesting that he'd need such minor help. From how many times he had to repeat he was responsible and capable perfectly well to take care of himself, this sort of level of desperation shouted loudly against such claims. He didn't mind reaching for help, not most of the time, but honestly, asking someone for a fruit [or vegetable, depending on views] for the sake of making a simple recipe must have reached a new all-time low. Scrunching his nose a little before knocking, he could at least be glad enough he was met with an actual response.

"If you're sure..." Evan nodded, though remained doubtful. How could someone with tears glazing their eyes truthfully say they were fine? He didn't mean to dwell, being nosy wasn't exactly what the situation required. Chances were, soon enough, the other male's friend or boyfriend or whoever the man was that so often visited him, would come over and help him through whatever happened to make him so upset. "That's no good to hear. Are you certain you're okay?" He decided to make sure, brow arching slightly. The news for a bad day that he didn't seem to have to suffer for himself weren't all that comforting. He didn't want anyone else to suffer through an awful day like his own merely because it was quite an unfortunate thing to curse someone else with just due to the fact the same thing happened to him. He barely knew the neighbor too, only speaking to him when they'd meet on the sidewalk or when they synchronized their departure times. It wasn't that often and he'd never say they were particularly close.

Upon being invited inside, he gave a soothing, small smile that betrayed the amount of gratitude he felt. Standing outside made him realize how awfully close they were to the coldest part of the year and he stuffed his numbing hands inside the pockets of his jacket. "Thank you." He limited himself to saying, glad that he was allowed to remain somewhere that wasn't bearing the same conditions as the outside. Huffing a little, he toyed with the little items that were long forgotten in his pockets, peeking into the others room and although keeping his distance, followed his neighbor towards the kitchen. He took a look at the grand dinner and frowned. There was just a few possibilities left, most eliminated by the choice of music. That would explain why he was crying too. With a scowl, Evan kept a little away from the kitchen and instead plopped by the decorated table, eyeing the prepared food with his stomach rising the point that he was still exhausted and hungry. "Huh? Well, I... I was going to try make dinner tonight but I... I'm no good of a cook," he admitted, somewhat quietly taking a sneaky taste to the shrimp florentine that he only recognized as some fancy pasta, for the lack of a better word.

//aw thank you <33 i'm glad you liked it
i love your posts omg
i wasn't sure how to have evan start off eating so he'll just keep taking more each time i guess cx
sorry for the lateness
and this is sorta rushed, i'm baking for christmas and stuff[/fancypost]

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 29px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]Aalia Sabina I. Solvita[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: white; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]A frown ebbed on Ali's feature as she managed to note the violent shudder that racked through the other boy. Her head tilted off to the side a little, curious to why he looked quite so frightened. She didn't want to appear like she meant ill to him and was surprised by his hesitance. Didn't he receive that offer earlier? It was absolutely freezing inside, why wouldn't anyone invite him inside? Sometimes, she as surprised herself by how blind people could be. After all, the other looked very much exhausted by then never mind that his lips, from her perspective, appeared more blue than any other color, suggesting further that his temperature must be dropping.

Glad that her offer wasn't dismissed, she offered a smile up at the boy, who still looked mildly surprised, if his widely dilated pupils were anything to go by. She began to turn towards the door, more than ready to slip away into the comfort of warmth again. She shivered lightly herself, taking a quick look at the pup who was ordered to stay put. "[b]You can take your friend with you, if you'd like," she added after another moment, noting that maybe despite the length of the dog's coat the chilliness may still be getting to him and since she was already helping one of them, why not kill two birds with one stone?

Twisting around, she went back inside, taking off her coat and whatnot and left it hanging on the coat rack that stood tall next to the doors, motioning for the boy to do the same. "What's your name? I'm Aalia." She offered, rubbing her rosy cheeks with a light huff of vaporized air. "I could make us both something hot to drink. How about cocoa? I should have some peppermint and marshmallows left," she added after taking a brief glance around, her gaze drifting back to the other with a lighthearted smile remaining on her lips.
[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 470px; color: black; font-size: 6pt; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | PREMADE FANCY | #BOKEHFANCY[/fancypost]

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 29px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]Aalia Sabina I. Solvita[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: white; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]A light giggle escaped her lips at the excited rush of the dog, finding it pleasing that she could assist both of them at the same time, since some dogs portrayed a little distrust at first when in contact with strangers. Aalia closed the door behind them to stop the rush of cool air from getting inside, tipping her head as she turned to the face the two again, an expectant, gentle smile warming her features. She nodded slowly at the introduction, giving a soft laugh, like she was avoiding the compliment.

"[b]Thank you," she nodded with a sheepish expression to a certain point. Her smile widened into a grin at the mention of the mistakes that apparently were pretty common if it caused him to completely being referred to by his middle name. "Landon..." She tested the name, just to see how it would roll off her tongue. Appearing quite satisfied, she gave a gentle nod. "I like both, they're nice. Landon especially." She hummed, glancing towards Lucky, as the pup was introduced. She gave a gentle noise of glee before crouching on her haunches and reaching to pet the canine lightly yet affectionately. "Nice to meet you two. Tell your brother that the name suits him, would you?" Ali glanced back at the boy before straightening up again.

Waving a hand dismissively, she reached to tug gently on the boy's arm, scoffing lightly. Making two cups of cocoa wasn't terrible, hard labor after all. She could definitely manage something that easy. The fault on that she put was because they were still strangers as it stood, knowing very little about each other. That could be a subject to change however, she supposed. With a playful roll of her eyes, she shook her head, already beginning to stalk off towards the kitchen. "Don't be silly, it's just a mug of cocoa," She assured him, allowing herself to look through the cupboards, simply trusting that Landon followed her trail to the kitchen. "So, peppermint? Marshmallows? Both?" She hummed, setting up to large mugs and the cocoa powder to prepare, shuffling off to dig for milk within the fridge.
[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 470px; color: black; font-size: 6pt; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | PREMADE FANCY | #BOKEHFANCY[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: lowercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -15px;]♛ EDWARD C. HOLLOWAY[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -30px;]MALE -- 33 YEARS OLD -- THE FATHER[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: COLOR; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;]The longer they remained in the house, the more of his heartstrings were pulled. Fear was still settled in his chest, but his body was also alive with irritation. Not full-on rage, he wouldn't allow himself to be angered unnecessarily to any deeper level by this. It wasn't like they haven't fought before either. Fights were common between them, with clashing personalities by far. Edward was struggling with his facade, that much was very obvious. He didn't actually want to stay behind those walls any more than the next person but it appeared impossible to think of a solution beyond that. Any sort of fighting back that were already attempted before always ended with failure and heavy casualties. Between having to choose, for as long as possible, he wanted Paris to be safe. She didn't have to love him for it. Hell, he learned not to mind that in all honesty, she likely despised his guts for the containment he kept her in. What other solution was there? Rebels always ended up dead. People who sneaked out from the walls never got too far before they turned into the hideous, murderous creatures themselves. He has long since given up. It just wasn't worth it. All of the death and gore that was present during those perilous times always ended up as a reminder to serve them that they were stuck. Once the walls were going to crumble, so would they and humanity would be forgotten. The walls weren't even that stable, they were built during the actual events surrounding them. There wasn't any warning before that they'd take seriously enough to allow them to create the establishment.

By this time, he was used to the multiple rules that were left unspoken beyond those walls. Don't fight back. There's no point. It was a waste of blood, sweat and ammunition. These things were eventually going to run out and it was much easier to keep them tightly surveyed until they would fall uncommon. There wasn't any other weapon that would work quite as well, as hand-to-hand combat wasn't recommend and short range weapons also were widely regarded and dangerous to the user, doing more harm than good. All that they could really do is accept their fate. Edward couldn't. With every breath, he was reminded that he was an equal to a bird trapped in a cage, too weak to break out and too small to fight against their abductor. He was weak, to put it simply. Not physically, surprisingly enough, for he never saw himself as strong beforehand, the events forcing him to gain muscle tissue much more successfully and quickly than before. His mentality was beyond broken, however. He felt captive and weak, most importantly, he felt like he was going crazy.

Maybe he was. Confinement could do that to a person, couldn't it? That's what he assumed, at least. He didn't possess previous experiences with such matters, neither did he want to. He hated the way the world turned out, and maybe if he wasn't lacking in bravery as he currently was, things would have changed. Paris was just a louder, more obvious presentation of what he stood for but never would have admitted to, in fear of history repeating itself like it was said to have multiple times before. He sighed heavily as he scaled down the stairs, feeling a dash of relief that they could finally leave the premises and return back. The sooner, the better, he figured. As his daughter twisted around, his brows furrowed and he let out a huff of general irritation, not too loud however. "I do have to prove you wrong, because suicide doesn't sound like something a father should promote!" He retorted, a scowl returning to his features. He could sense the loud clash between them already spiking as it stood. He didn't like it one bit, somehow unable to bite his tongue. "I'm not trying to prove anything, Paris! I've got nothing to prove! I'm trying to protect you, for Christ's sake. You're not a baby, but you're fourteen. You're not an adult yet. So it's left to me to take care of you, isn't it? I can't let you die because of stupid rebellious ideas you may come up with!"

Before he knew it, he was waving his arms a little, gesticulating as if it'd help him prove a point that was now long since forgotten. "Enlighten me then. How are we going to fight against most of the population? There's billions of them!" He growled, shaking his head. His mouth parted to let out another remark, something along the lines of that they could continue the discussion - if it could be called that - when they returned. A screech interrupted him and he pulled before her in a protective, ready to battle stance, glancing at her before making a move. His eyes flickered about, looking for the source of the sound, trying to locate it. It rang in his ears slightly, making it all the more difficult. "Don't make a sound," he hissed at her, freezing almost completely apart from the gentle, picked up pace of his breath. Clickers. They could deal with those, as long as there weren't too many. He swallowed thickly, his fingers wondering towards the guns that he took with him for the sake of protection before he'd gone out of the house, continuing to scan the surroundings.[/fancypost]

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 25px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]WILLIAM SHERLOCK S. HOLMES[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: black; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]Since the beginning of his career, Sherlock met people. Confronted them, supported them, worked with them, or in some cases plainly disliked them. There wasn't a particular obvious fondness in the man. In fact, over a posterior of bluntness and sharp coldness, many not caring to overlook that particular facade, he couldn't help but notice that there were relationships he earned. He didn't have friends. Sherlock Holmes was a lonely man who preferred not to be burdened by emotional attachment. And yet, he cared, he supported, he did little things that in his book stood out as grand, eased to see that most of those that took care and time to properly know him knew about that. Appreciated that. whether it was maybe once in a while buying milk or whatever if it ran low in the flat, or simply showing fierce protectiveness, as in the case of Mrs. Hudson. Unfortunately taking her for granted, he liked to imagine that he worked towards proving that he'd go a far distance to ensure her safety. The most recent one being in fact jumping off that cursed rooftop. If not that for that proof, he'd likely strongly disagree of feeling such strong emotion towards his landlady, since that led her into trouble twice before, including the to-be assassination.

Out of all people that he grew close to, perhaps Greg Lestrade was the oddest one. In the end, the only reason they began to work together was because of the police's necessity to use methods that were varied from the usual protocol. So, when needed, he was plainly told to arrive, free to do his things without much binding. The police didn't like him, that much was obvious, but for as long as Lestrade was at their head, Sherlock could be certainly assured that they wouldn't be getting rid of him any time soon. There were multiple people there that didn't bother hiding their distaste with his presence, a thing that he found much too easy to ignore. Not that they couldn't see that, nor did they make attempts at hiding their attitudes towards him. While working on their third case together, John's blog successfully brought about a joking manner to the department, with the obvious lack of basic knowledge he possessed. Truly enough, he wasn't fully aware that the Earth circled the sun and whatever else. He didn't honestly care, either. It wasn't anything important, nothing worth noting, unless it was specifically needed in the line of one's work, he supposed. As a consulting detective, there was no need, so he simply deleted the information, as he referred to the act.

For a genius, he perhaps wasn't aware of everything. From his perspective, that didn't make a genius. Whatever primary knowledge may have seen as necessary, it wasn't all that helpful. Knowing society rankings and higher positions in no way contributed or altered his lifestyle, therefore they weren't important. It was a simply process of reduction, similar to the one that was widely regarded and connected with mathematics. Now, mathematics was something vastly important, calculations and the possibility of being able to rationalize numbers without deep focus was a skill difficult to acquire, one he luckily enough possessed. Along with scientific knowledge and whatnot, he found it immensely unnecessary to know who's the most popular singer currently on the boards. In the end, there were things that mattered and things that plainly didn't. The same he noticed went along with many other things, whether it may be people or anything of the kind. Some things weren't needed in life, and from his perspective, it was like poisoning his mind. It was meant to be a unique, extraordinary mind, perhaps in the end that's what made it that little step better than the average mindset.

Even so, he now had someone to assist him with those confusions. John, who he found quickly not to mind helping him out with such cases, was the brightest example of this. Unlike many others, who refused to believe that a man like him wouldn't be aware of things quite as simple as they viewed them, he found that John could understand. He did understand. When Sherlock lost tact, when he wasn't acting appropriately, he was always there to keep him right and steer him in the right direction. It wasn't a matter of even simply rubbing off his attitude onto him, it was that gentle push to straighten him, make him realize his mistakes and learn from them. During their first case, the christened 'A Study in Pink', if his blog was anything to go by, even then he made the point to gently point out his mistakes when it came to social issues and whatever else that must have escaped his mind before. Fact was, during that time, Sherlock found it difficult to comprehend how a woman could remember a stillborn child of her's that died not only fourteen years beforehand, but never even had the chance to live. Finding himself able to now more easily recognize what may be the issue with that, he was glad. A view point of a normal person's eyes wasn't half as bad as he assumed. Certainly, compared to his never ending storm of thought, it remained frankly dull, simply earning an additional touch of intrigue. As a new experience, it was definitely worth an experimental try.

John seemed to be one of the only constants in his life. The way that they now went through the past years together was absolutely mad, he just couldn't decide which one of them was crazier. By normal standards, that option would likely befall on him, however the choice was difficult between a sociopath with suicidal tendencies, abstract behavior and ticks, learning to tackle social behavior at the golden age of a little beyond thirty and an ex-army doctor, who was an equal adrenaline junkie with a desire to experience dangerous situations, never mind willingly agreeing to live with - and work with - said sociopath. Anyone with normal perception would have assumed that was a dynamic duo, quite literally. A couple like that had no chance of blending in with society. It was Sherlock's personal honor to prove that wrong, for the way they worked out so far, one the complete opposite and therefore balance of the other, it was like a literal example of yin and yang. In their own case, chaotic harmony that was yet to be broken. The man himself was a surprise for Sherlock, that being a rarity in a person who's most foreseeable ability is the one to reasonable deduce one's history from a glance and tiny details. John was there for him, leaving him little doubt that he'd hesitate to do the same he'd done if roles had been switched. Something definitely alluring clung to the soldier, and he was glad that for once, he didn't have to lie within a confession.

Unexpectedly, he had girlfriends before, never seeming to find anyone that he would click with. Most of those relationships were there to gain further access towards cases. Apart from Irene, who he remained bearing little liking toward. Certainly, she was an interesting character but went somewhat unnoticed. A somewhat similar situation towards Molly. He still couldn't honestly understand how she could have a crush on him, even after he fairly enough manipulated her power and feelings. She still was a good friend, although he remained surprised. From his own thoughts, there was nothing fascinating about him, apart from the obvious intellect that appeared to irk people more than interest them. That also led to a fair share of doubt when it came to the telephonic conversation with John back on the rooftop. He couldn't comprehend why someone like him would like - scratch that, love someone like Sherlock. Despite constant complaining and obvious annoyance with his quirks, he still openly admitted such strong feelings. That case would always be beyond him. Likely, that wasn't a topic to be touched upon at this stage. The wounds which were there would remain too fresh for a while to come, he assumed, even if he managed to prove his health.

He wasn't prepared to deal with another person learning the truth about his apparent death yet. Or at least, he needed to calm down and rationalize his thoughts before doing so. Spilling out so much of his thoughts and concerns was already a worrisome feature in him, and he feared the reaction. John had to be coaxed into relaxing with him, and those smiles that were evident on his face as they spoke were quite enough to assure his subconscious that this was Mrs. Hudson they were talking about. Of course the elderly landlady would forgive him. She could be a little annoying, only in special circumstances, in his opinion but that did nothing to change his mind about her. She was a wonderful woman. Even wonderful people had to have their limits, though. What if this was hers? Taking a small breath, Sherlock closed his eyes after collapsing on his bed almost noiselessly, flinging his arm to cover his eyes, only to stand to attention once the door opened a little, relaxing to see John standing there. At the question (to his surprise lacking sarcasm or irony), he shook his head a little. "[b]Can't escape the inevitable, right?" He shrugged, picking himself up from the bed and slowly shuffling towards the doors. "I'll just go out there and explain. Do you think she'll understand?" He inquired, honestly uncertain with how the woman may deal with the situation. After casting his gaze down on the floor for a moment, he paused as he reached to exit the room. "You'll be there with me, right?" He mumbled, not honestly wanting to have to go through all of it again. Not alone. Not twice in the same day. His face was emotionless but over the cool tone and expression, his doubt and hesitance was clear outside the content of his words.

[ooc.] have a mess of a rushed post <33 (x
same here, from all the things i have, this one is definitely on the top of my list /w/ especially since i started to rewatch and follow blogs with the two again cx
i would have been raging by that time like that man should be a saint
i gotcha xD i totally understand like i'm no good with those sorta things either tbh but like damn me if i don't give it a shot
i love how everyone just randomly forces him to eat lmao
especially since he hates it
i love your posts too gahh <3333
i probably use but way more than i should too tbh
omg those pics are so perfect ugh i squealed tooand we definitely have to try those
may i also suggest

ooh and more dancing like the episode where he taught john a little bit ^^
i can imagine a lot of john trying to contain sherlock bc obviously remaining in hiding will be very dull and boring /w/
i was also gonna ask about the christmas special bc that's coming out soon too and i'm like beyond excited
[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 470px; color: black; font-size: 6pt; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE ©BOKEH | PREMADE FANCY | #BOKEHFANCY[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: lowercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -15px;]♛ EDWARD C. HOLLOWAY[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -30px;]MALE -- 33 YEARS OLD -- THE FATHER[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: COLOR; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;]Judging by the screeches that echoed off the walls, these had to be Clickers. Not the worst stage of the mutation, luckily enough for them, yet plentifully dangerous so that they could cause serious danger, never mind severe, life-threatening injuries. The fungi that grew attached to their skin always caused a wave of nausea come over him, with bitter bile rising into his throat as a sign of further discomfort than necessary. In their bitter luck, at least they could be grateful enough they weren't Bloaters that they've encountered. The deadly, final stages were the worst of them all, definitely harder to beat. With the knowledge he possessed, they would be too difficult to deal with without the support of additional equipment, such as anything to cast flames. Those seemed to stun them and weaken them enough to be allowed and be shot. Even then, it took quite a few bullets, which they didn't possess. Flames would work equally effectively against Clickers, though they possessed none.

For a brief time after the infectious brain disease reached into their state, Edward picked up the disgusting habit of lighting cigarettes every time that nervousness would overpower him. It was a habit that he wasn't particularly fond of. Apart from slightly relieving the stress, it only worked against him. Within reason, he soon enough got rid of it. His performance in long distance running would have significantly lessened and the worst his stamina and breath was, the lower his survival rate went. At that point, if he died, then likely it was Paris would too. There was no longer a safe place for a child to be alone. With the mindset that he couldn't simply abandon her, not because of something he picked up to relieve himself of stress. So, as he assumed anyone in his place, he slowly began to abandon the concept. After perhaps four weeks, a little less, he assumed he was clean of smoking. Ultimately, now that once more, father and daughter stood in the face of death, he wasn't so sure. His body screamed for an outlet to the amount of fear and sensitive senses it was drowning in, something that appeared distant and unavailable from his perspective. Maybe under different circumstances, in a different time, he would have quietly been able to find a cigarette and turn to merely it's touch for the comfort of knowing that there was something which could soothe him. Since it was abandoned that time ago, there wasn't much left anymore.

Watching Paris inch closer towards the window only worked against his nerves. He already felt terrified, he didn't necessarily want it to get worse. As she took her steps carefully, avoiding the echoes of the screeches plentifully successfully he assumed, he trained his gaze firmly in her directly. His fingers cautiously wrapped around his gun, which he steadied with another deep breath. As she revealed the curtain, for a sparse moment he attempted to look out through the available space but found himself unable to spot anything outside of a fraction of the house straight opposite the one they found themselves in. Judging by the sounds made, multiple screeches hollering from the outside, they were most likely outnumbered by an amount he couldn't make certain of simply going by the noise. As the Clicker made a point of stalking towards Paris, Edward fumbled with his gun, hands clammy from the growing nerves that worked through him during the situation. The sharp movement, perhaps, caused the infected to swap its attention. Perfectly fine by him, as long as his daughter wasn't being targeted.

As the gunshot rang out into the previously still air, his breath turned more hollow. The Clicker seemed to stumble and then return to its previous task of preying upon the girl only a foot or so away. Leveling his gun, he winced as Paris' own line of defense was snapped right out of her grasp. Wasting little time, he took quick aim and fired into the thing before it could cause serious damage, immediately going to lift the gun and give it back to his daughter. He leaned down a little before her, expression voicing his inward concern. "Are you okay?" He whispered, taking a glance through the window. The rest of the group was sure to follow the amount of noise they made. There wasn't really much time left. "Listen, next time, just shoot, okay? One bullet isn't always gonna be enough. Stuff 'em 'till you're sure they're down, you hear me? Can you do that?" His voice was more soothing than before as he ran a hand comfortingly through her hair, reaching to tug lightly at her elbow. "We're going to have to fight our way out. You stand behind me, got it? Just cover me and we'll be fine. And if something goes wrong, run." He instructed her, despite everything offer a smile, meant to convince them both that everything will be fine.[/fancypost]

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 29px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]Aalia Sabina I. Solvita[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: white; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]Ali shook her head a little, keeping the light smile on her features. "[b]Of course I don't mind," she assured, bustling about in search of the necessary ingredients to get everything ready. Reaching onto her tiptoes, she brought out a few peppermint candy and a packet of mini marshmallows. With a satisfied grin, she carried them over to where the cups were and popped a single piece of the minty candy in each, leaving it be before she waltzed off to prepare a saucepan with milk, letting it heat up before adding a few spoonfuls of the cocoa powder, returning whatever wasn't needed anymore to its rightful place.

Looking over at the attempt at conversation, she gave a light shrug, prancing off to find a wooden spoon she could use to stir the liquid with. Using a tablespoon, she scooped up a jar of nutella, picking up some of the chocolate onto her spoon. "Honestly, a little tiring. With work and whatnot. Not as bad as I expected at first though, just really cold," she chuckled, popping the generous amount of chocolate into the heating milk, stirring until the substance was positively dissolved. She stirred for a while longer, making sure it was good enough to go.

With another glance over, she began to share the hot beverage between them, throwing whatever she used into the sink before producing two teaspoons they could use to stir and mix the dissolving peppermints inside the mugs. "What about you? You must be exhausted," she noted, throwing in a handful and a few extra marshmallows into the mug, allowing it to create a sort of foam to coat the top of the mug. She stirred the two mugs a little before picking both of them up and offering one of them to Landon, beginning to trek off to the living room, where they could possibly chat and whatnot more comfortably.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0px; margin-top:-10px][size=35pt][color=black][font=georgia][b][i]cristofer b.[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px][justify][sub][font=georgia][size=8]here it is finally omg i'm sorry for taking so long ugh

the turquoise glow was a little scary at first. skin wasn't supposed to light up that way, assuming you stuck to the biologic rules of a human's body. there was no space for such phenomenons in the genetic code that made up the human body. although quite scary to begin with, certain that something was wrong and it was vital some help would be brought, cris soon eased into a relaxed state as he found himself previously. if it meant nothing to eden, then he shouldn't care either. it was obviously something to do with the special abilities that merpeople must possess, unlike humans. compared to the fact that they apparently could cause his body temporarily not to crave oxygen was amazing in itself, beyond that, little should surprise him. hopefully, over time such anomalies will escape his eye. that would need a little of getting used to but he trusted that it wouldn't take quite that long that it'd cause too much of a problem. he couldn't help but wonder what the color symbolized. obviously, there was more to it than the mere want to make it happen. eden appeared way too out of focus to concentrate on doing something like that, and it wasn't that necessary. then again, he may just be concentrating on creating that aura, unaware it completely escaped his understandings.

at the current moment, he took every scenario into consideration. with how quick the world was changing around them, it would come as no surprise after all if anything else was in store for him. he couldn't place a finger on what that was or what to expect, yet he doubted he had to. surprisingly calm, he was certain he could uphold the facade until he was completely used to things like this. even now, as the soothing gentle drip of the waterfall was along with the smooth occasional splash of eden's tail the only echoing sounds in the cave, he could easily forget. reaching a calm, collected state where he was certain that nothing was of much important - not really - he found himself ultimately at peace. there was no need to worry any longer. eden was safe, so was he and they were in a secluded spot that was strikingly admirable. the glowing water seemed to only add to the charm, with piercing clearness that made it possible for him to make out the golden tattoos that marked the other's skin along the smooth tail, golden and ivory standing boldly against opaque green waters. as the silence was broken again, he shook his head and smiled, despite not being seen. "it's fine. late's better than never," he shrugged the topic off, eyes trailing after the bandage that he continued to carefully wrap the other in.

from the looks of it, soon would be the end of his work, for he was rather quickly running out of material to use. the white layers nicely contained the injuries, however, with the previous cleaning not even needing to hide any pierces of color that may stand out against them. with injuries like that, they would have to be changed soon but he doubted that'd be an issue. by then, both of them should be back home, safe and sound in more comfortable territory, he assumed. the cave itself still wasn't familiar to him and he couldn't say that he didn't feel a little out of place. at the same time, it felt very according. like it was meant to be there with them in it and he wouldn't stand in the way of such feelings. as long as it permitted any sense of comfort to overpower the little unfamiliarity connected with the spot. it was truly beautiful and making it somewhere where he could visit more often would be his own pleasure. with the promise that they now held each other to, perhaps that would be even more possible. they were overall bound to places away from prying gazes that may meet them at beaches and after all, cris wouldn't be able to hold his breath for half the time necessary to travel too deeply into the raging waves of the ocean. it'd be plain suicide and there was honestly enough death around him as it stood.

attentively listening to the explanation to his inquires, his head tilted slightly. like dolphins? that sounded quite comfortable. as far as he was aware, dolphins weren't too far off from humans, which meant that the comparison would actually give him further access to imagine what the society may look like. with the collection of families, it must be large and he could easily think of a grand castle like he'd seen in the little mermaid disney movie once, surrounded with beings like eden appearance-wise, leaving trails of cheery bubbles in their path to reach for the surface of the water, with laughs and conversations spreading out to be heard from a certain distance, likely spoken in the tongue that was carved into the shell and therefore would escape his knowledge and understanding. that didn't trouble his imagination as he hummed in acknowledgement, to show that he's been listening throughout the story. the crystaldome sounded especially beautiful, maybe being the name given to that atlantis castle in his imagination, though made of precious stone? he couldn't be sure and honestly didn't want to intrude the other, therefore didn't question upon the mystery location.

cutting off the bandages as they were completely wrapped around eden's back, cris sat back, pulling off his shoes and socks for the sake of sneaking over to the merman's side and staring with wide, curious eyes at the assembly of droplets, creating a large bubble that reflected in the curious depths of his gaze, pupils blown to unimaginable sizes. the trick looked amazing and it successfully fit with the concept that rose in his imagination upon the mention of the crystaldome. as the monarchy was explained, he choked back a little sound of surprise. the queen, he assumed, resembled his mother in many details that he could just about miss, yet in his curiosity refused to. he leaned forth in his spot with an exhale of exasperated intrigue. "that's amazing! my mother told me something's been filtering the water for a while. i suppose that's your doing, then?" he mused, his head tilted off to the side a tiny bit. "she assumed that but we didn't have any solid proof..." he admitted with a lighthearted shrug.

the goal of demolishing violence was very much supported by cris as far as that went. the raging wars and lack of freedom always seemed off to him and he hated to know that in multiple parts of the world, there was still incredible suffering and poverty that he couldn't fully influence. without being in the least a millionare and with good acquaintances at that, there wasn't much of a point trying such a big step at once. through charities and other organizations, he was still confident he could help at least the tiniest bit. that could be blown out of his perspective by whoever was at the receiving end of the support, and that was good enough for him. he watched the changing pictures in the blob of water while continuing to listen to each word to the best of his ability. he chuckled at the necklace comment and nodded a little. "can't say she's wrong, sure..." he agreed with a small grin. "that's amazing. the only thing remotely close we have are birthstones, but not everyone chooses to believe in them and they aren't seen that important. they mostly work by your date of birth rather than personality traits." he murmured, watching the scene before him with a tiny noise of wonder.[/fancypost][align=center]
[size=6pt]★ trek

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 450px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 11px; line-height: 130%; margin-top: -8px; font-family: times new roman;][hr][that's okay, don't worry about it c:]

Satisfied by the assurance that in fact the pups meant no harm - never mind that they didn't exactly look like they could cause Kaitelyn any, with their size and harmless postures, she doubted that any danger awaited her apart from being used as a fleshy chew toy in the jaws of prickly but still quite weak teeth. Nothing that she'd honestly mind or try to escape, the prospect wasn't exactly terrifying in its lone definition. With the many past adventures of her's, she was certain that the sort of pain along those lines wouldn't be that bad.

Another warm chuckle escaped her lips at the yips of protest coming from the furball which decided to crawl between the seats, a journey it never made. Appearing quite offended by being broken of their trail, scolded for it as well, a grin brightened her face.

As expected, the puppies were very much adorable creatures that she took almost immediate liking to. Watching the sibling wrestle between the two, she relaxed into the seat, her camera long since forgotten as she sat back to just spectate what the young canines may come up with next. The female, which she assumed must have been the sneaky adventurer, appeared to be more troublesome than her brother, though she didn't make the mistake of assuming he'd be any calmer. Puppies were curious, after all, from what she could recall and see.

"A little bit," she agreed at the statement, hesitantly reaching over to scratch the female's ear, pulling her hand away embarrassingly quickly as soon as she took notice of the action. She wasn't certain if there was any unspoken permission to touch the small beings, for perhaps the man could have been protective of them. Even so, he appeared friendly enough to maybe let the action slip.

Responding subconsciously almost to the gentle push of the pup's snout against her arm, she moved around to make it more accessible for him to clamber onto her lip, appearing affectionately surprised by the eagerness to come into any sort of contact with her. Running her finger delicately down the pup's spine, she chuckled and shook her head, "I don't mind." She quickly assured, looking over at the man by her side with a smile. "I'm Kaitlyn, by the way," she decided to introduce herself. May as well, seeing that she was already made into a playground of sorts by the pup.

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; height: 120px; font-size: 12px; overflow: auto][justify]omg i'm so sorry
i was busy with christmas the past few days but i'll write out my reply now or tomorrow morning since it's late af ene
it's been so long ugh i'm really sorry
my family was over so i couldn't really get on

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 492px; color: black; font-family: bell mt; font-size: 29px; text-align: right; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px black;]Aalia Sabina I. Solvita[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border: none; border-top: 0px white solid; width: 473px; color: white; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;]The cup a little scalding against her skin, pleasantly so as it successfully warmed up her hands to the point where she didn't have to worry quite as much about the previous chill that racked her body outside of the house. The weather was truly terrible and she didn't look forward to facing it again until it became more tolerable again. She had low tolerance for heat, admittedly, therefore winter never belonged to her favorite seasons. Although the decorations and snow was incredibly beautiful, there was so much beyond that that she couldn't stand for her life and gave up on trying to. There wasn't a point anymore, she assumed, for she tried through the length of quite a while and never grew into it.

Despite that, she wasn't picky with such small choices most of the time. With the Christmas giving season, it was an admirable time of the year and it truly awakened the need to help people in many individuals. By nature, she was helpful and attempted to assist those that she comfortably knew she could aid in one way or another. Without necessarily pushing herself, she made sure that a few small deeds may just add up to a good profile in the future. If affordable, a philanthropist didn't sound too bad for some sort of career, she supposed. Only and if she could afford it, that is. Otherwise, she'd have to be satisfied by charity and volunteer work like she was doing at the current moment. So no deep change.

Watching Landon sit on the floor rather than with her on the couch, she frowned but didn't openly object. It appeared odd to her but he must have his reasoning and if that was any true, then he maybe he just needed to grow comfortable with the environment before he got too comfortable. Nestled in one corner of the couch, she crossed her legs and looked at the boy so that they could easily talk without too much twisting and exasperation. "[b]What do you mean?" She asked softly, quirking one brow at the comment as she sipped at the hot liquid at hand, unsure if she was treading good territory.
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