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Name: J | Gender: Homo Sapien | Age: 35 | Posts: 2,176 | Roses: 0
Old 08-07-2014 at 05:24 AM
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Le Garçonnière  Post [1] »


[Description forthcoming]


Max Slate

Max had paced anxiously around his apartment for hours, which was no small feat considering its utter lack of square footage. He had fiddled at the kitchenette until he was afraid he might have to replace the hinges on the refrigerator if he open the door many more times. In the end he had fixed himself more cups of coffee than he should have (which might have had something to do with the pacing). Intermittently he wandered to the bed and stared down, wring his hands lightly. Every so often he would wipe drool off the chin of the woman pass out there or lightly roll her to side to stop the snoring. Then he would, once again debate the moral implications of making her more comfortable by taking her dress off.

It's a tricky task, taking off a woman's dressed who is passed out cold without sneaking either a peak or feel. But Max had done his best, and in his defense the worst he could be accused of was a graze not a feel. Then he had politely tucked her into bed and begun his walk of the restless, a very large rat in a very small cage. Perhaps there are those who are mildly curious as to why he was undressing an unconscious woman, or why there was an unconscious woman in his company in the first place. And in his defense: It. Was. Not. His. Fault.

On this point Max had been extremely adamant as he had talked to the police. Though when he had gotten to the point in the story of her invitations to him they seemed less than one hundred percent convinced. But when they found similar drugs in the pocket of the slime ball whose left eye now shone in a nearly fluorescent purple they had been willing enough to let him off with a merely a stern and suspicious look. But after the creep had been cuffed and lead away the cops seemed less concerned about what to do with the woman who was stumbling and slurring. An emergency technician had unenthusiastically suggested taking her to the hospital though he had stressed the fact that there would be little to nothing that they could do for her other than hydrate her and watch her until she woke up and then give her something for the inevitable hang over like symptoms in the morning. That idea didn't sit well with Max who had envisioned her waking in a harsh and sterile environment the next morning (though that probably had more to do with his own memories of waking in a hospital than reality).

Instead this had been Max's solution. He had brought her back to his place, since off course she was in no state to give him her own address when she had passed out in the back of the cab. He made her as comfortable as possible, thus losing the attractive but not cozy-looking dress and putting her in one of his t-shirts. And then debated the now puzzling question of where he was going to sleep. The folding chairs were not truly an option, and there was only the one blanket so that making a bed on the floor was viable but not appealing. Finally Max had given in, rather inadvertently, as the coffee wore off and he swore he was just going to sit down on the foot of the bed for a moment. Passing out himself next to her, with his feet still on the floor and on top of the covers, had not been his intention. But as the Parisian sun rose above the rooftops of his street and spilled into the small apartment that was the vignette painted of them through the floor to ceiling window.




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Old 08-07-2014 at 06:02 AM
WanderingChild<3

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Hunter Davison

Eyes opened.

F*ck this.

Hunter Davison gasped, shutting her eyes tight, and suddenly feeling like- Well, what were other words to describe death without actually being dead? Something was totally wrong her. First off, if she even thought of opening her eyes again like that, Hunter's sockets would swell up and pop her eyeballs right out. Secondly, the body that once was alive and working- felt more like a shell that was suffocating her insides. Also, why was she tasting metal in her mouth? Why did her stomach feel like it was reaching up into her throat? Holy moly. Moaning out loud, Hunter bit her lip, sinking into the fluffy pillow that was beneath her… but… it wasn't her pillow? Wait, was this life?

Hunter's body shot up like a bullet, her head that felt as if it were disconnected from her body lolled over to the side, swallowing the desert that seemed to be settling in her throat. Her eyes, glazed over and having clouds coming in from the sides of version, looked down to see… Him. Tears immediately began running down her cheeks. She could see his form, feeling like she couldn't see a face, but a figure. It was her lover. Oh, it was him. She couldn't believe she was right beside him. Finally. "Babe…" She whispered hoarsely, her shaking fingers reaching up to touch his shoulder, fingers feeling his muscles. The muscles that held her every night.

"Dominique." She said the name and it never sounded sweeter.

Then she blinked. Suddenly, the picture was clearer and wasn't right. The man underneath her fingertips was not Dominique. It was… Max?!

A horrible head rush came at her like a speeding truck hitting her head on. The sickness rushing over her, the panic of where she was, who he was, and what was happening coming to her mind but her mind was rushing so fast she couldn't slow down to think straight. That wasn't him. Love felt like it was taken away from her once more and now, reality was hitting. A reality she couldn't remember.

Breathing turned into coughing and her shoulders kept heaving to try and catch a breath, moment, something! It felt like her heart was in her throat, making her eyes pop open from the choking intensity. Struggling to get away from Max, who she had no idea why he was lying next to her in somewhere she had no clue where she was- her hands patted all along the bed, crawling to the edge of it until she fell over, rolling onto the hard cold floor.

The impact was killing her already pained body, and the heavy breathing was not helping her spinny-roller coaster- she-will-vomit stomach. Slamming her palms to her sweaty forehead, Hunter let her body sink into the floor. What the hell was happening? Did she sleep with him? She was a virgin though. That wasn't his that was Dominique. The pain of thinking it was Dom made her heartache. Where was she! Hunter Davison attempted to remember last night. Anything from it. Did she drink too much? Did she lose her virginity?! No matter how much she tried to remember something- anything- her mind would come to a complete blackout. All she remembered was the Rouge. The story she was suppose to get. That was it. Oh god, what had she done? What had happened? Hunter felt completely out of place, like something had just plucked her into another world. She ached, she felt awful, she couldn't remember a damn thing and never had she felt so not in control of a moment.

Hunter's eyes burned with tears as they came streaming out of her shut eyes, "M-Max-" She whimpered, slapping a hand up to the bed, grasping onto the sheets. "Wh-Where am I? W-W-What happened?!" Her hand clutched her throat, feeling really hot like she was burning. "I c-can't breathe!"


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Name: J | Gender: Homo Sapien | Age: 35 | Posts: 2,176 | Roses: 0
Old 08-07-2014 at 06:52 AM
Daroga
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 Post [3] »


Max Slate

You know that good sleep? The really good sleep? The kind when you're so mentally and physically exhausted that you nearly become comatose. No weird dreams to keep you twitching or tossing and turning. You'll wake up and feel utterly refreshed, in fact it's so deep that you have to double check the alarm clock because you didn't actually realize that much time had passed, and you'll do that check whether its five minutes (could it have been so short you are so refreshed?) or five hours (could it have been that long you don't remember a thing?). That's the kind of sleep Max was getting. It would have seemed that if a small bomb had gone off in his bathroom he wouldn't have noticed. That was until something made him start to dream. One word permeated the deep veil of his slumber, a name. "Dominique."

Behind his closed eyes a scene started to unfold. There was the sound of laughter and voice. There was the clinking of glasses and the sound of Max's own laughter. Conversation and the feeling of familiarity and fun. There was nothing clear, no picture. Just sensations and hazy feelings. Like a single weak ray of light filtering through the dusty air of a long closed attic. Dark hair, bright eyes, a face was beginning to take shape through the haze slowly coming into focus. There was an unforgettable smile... except Max had forgotten. But now it was right there a breath away from his fingertips if he could just reach his grasp a little further--

"M-Max-" It was a different voice. Pulling him away from the scene that had been developing deep within his subconscious. "Wh-Where am I?" Without thinking his emerging awareness rolled towards the slight pressure on the bed next to him. His own hand reached out towards it and found fingers under his own as he reached across the twisted covers of his bedclothes. "W-W-What happened?!" Max blinked himself awake the last fragment of the dream disappearing back into the darkness from which they had emerged. "I c-can't breathe!"

"Huh," Max groaned rolling his head to the side and trying to remember something important. As soon as his eyes latched onto Hunter's face that something smacked him roughly. Hunter! Max's body rigidly bolted upright. Last night! "Oh my God," he gasped as every detail of what had happened, every worry and adrenaline and panic stricken moment flooded him with clarity that would not disappear so easily. Max scrambled to his feet, tripping slightly as his feet were not as nimble this close to sleep, and made his way toward the sink two steps away. He snatched one of the two glasses he owned from the counter above and quickly filling it with water from the tap before rushing back to her side. "Hunter," he said trying and not truly succeeding to keep the panic from his tone, "are you okay?! Oh, its such a long story. Just please tell me you are okay..." by the end he had squatted down on the floor next her, offering the glass of water and his tone had dissolved to a small pleading whimper.




Max | Pieter | Polaris | Phoenix | Protagonist | I love Sam <3
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Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 08-07-2014 at 07:06 AM
WanderingChild<3

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 Post [4] »


Hunter Davison

Hunter's heart was in need of some floaties to stay above her own panic in her chest to keep beating. The ceiling above her was caving, and to make matters even worse, she totally was half naked. Images were flashing through her mind from last night, but they weren't clear to her. In fact, nothing was clear. Probably the worst of it was the illusion of Dominique. The illusion that he was actually in the bed beside her. Also, the fact that she had no damn idea what was going on and couldn't seem to breathe. Breathing was needed.

"Hunter-" Seeing Max rush to her side holding up water somehow made Hunter feel relieved that he was there. Seeing him somewhat calm, concerned, but she could tell the urgency in his words and breathing made her not feel any more… calm. Hunter looked up at him with large eyes, her teeth grinding together. "Are you okay?! Oh, its such a long story. Just please tell me you are okay..." The question sounded like a puppy plead, and she realized that whatever happened was not just a drunken night, nor did she think that Max took her virginity. Something happened last night that caused the nosy reporter to feel this way and not remember a single thing. Knowing all to well where she was last night and the things that could happen made her skin crawl but she refused to think about anything that could have happened before she knew for sure.

Tears streaming down her face, her shaky hand found his shoulder, scrunching up his shirt material. Coughing, she held her stomach, trying to sit up. Eventually she had to wrap her entire arm around his neck to make herself do so, holding him for dear life. "I-I can't s-s-stop hyper-hypervenalating." She croaked, feeling the panic stream in her veins making her cheeks lose all color and her body use Max as more a life preserver than just a shoulder to lean on.

Collapsing her head into his chest, she shut her eyes. "P-P-Please c-calm me."


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