- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy (high, low and anything in between), modern, medieval, anything that'll keep me at the edge of my seat. Romance is absolutely necessary. And fluff. Just a lil bit.
"Fucking hell," Elliot cursed. He had been trying to cook dinner for him and April, but because he was not as gifted in the culinary arts as his boundlessly talented roommate, things were not boding very well for him. Drawing his forefinger up, he examined the cut, before deciding its requirement of a bandage.
"A nickel in the cursing jar, Eli!" Called April. She chuckled from across their apartment. Their dynamic was an odd one, as most would speculate, but it worked out well for them, so who was anyone to judge. The layout of their apartment was fairly simple: 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, a kitchen, a living room that was parted by a rice screen--divided into a library and an art studio. It was a mutually agreed upon rule that no one was to play their music out loud, as their tastes varied greatly and a song that aided in one's concentration only aided in another's irritation.
Eli was not a broadly built man, with rather soft features defining him. He stood at a good 5'7" (170 cm), a lanky figure and a pair of nonfunctional eyes that were permanently shut. He could open them, of course, but it was simply a dull shade of green amber that April kept telling him looked really cool, but Eli refuted the claim. His skin was an olive peachy color, with his only prominent feature being a head of midnight hair that would aggressively spike up in the, which no amount of mollifying coercion (in the form of hair gel) could quell.
On the other hand, almost every single feature of April's stood out, from the roots of her hair to the sound of her name. An artist, it would be almost second nature for her sense of fashion to be entirely too ridiculous for Eli to make any sense out of, but she looked pretty and he had to applaud her for that. She had a slightly more fit physique, thicker thighs and all, chestnut hair with the eyes to match. Her skin was pale, as she had her cultural roots in South Korea. Other than that, she was just your everyday friendly neighborhood lesbian.
Eli cursed as he shuffled through April's stack of papers in the bathroom cabinet, yelling at her to stop leaving her random sketches in random places. A little bit of blood dripped from his hand onto her drawings, to which Eli paused for a moment, simply staring at the paper. Oh, hell no, April was going to absolutely maul him. He quickly picked up the paper to see if it was of importance, and saw something that honestly caught him off guard. It looked like a pentagram, or some sort of similar satanic symbol. Was there something she wasn't telling him? Was she-- Eli paused--in a cult?
"Hey... April, come in here for a moment."
"Yeah, dude? What's up?" She asked, swinging around the corner of the bathroom. She suddenly froze. A cloud of pitch black was looming behind Eli, and something seemingly akin to a hole to the fucking underworld opened up behind him. A tall, towering figure emerged from the opening.
"Eli."
"So, I might have accidentally maybe possibly bled onto one of your drawings and--"
"Eli!"
"A nickel in the cursing jar, Eli!" Called April. She chuckled from across their apartment. Their dynamic was an odd one, as most would speculate, but it worked out well for them, so who was anyone to judge. The layout of their apartment was fairly simple: 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, a kitchen, a living room that was parted by a rice screen--divided into a library and an art studio. It was a mutually agreed upon rule that no one was to play their music out loud, as their tastes varied greatly and a song that aided in one's concentration only aided in another's irritation.
Eli was not a broadly built man, with rather soft features defining him. He stood at a good 5'7" (170 cm), a lanky figure and a pair of nonfunctional eyes that were permanently shut. He could open them, of course, but it was simply a dull shade of green amber that April kept telling him looked really cool, but Eli refuted the claim. His skin was an olive peachy color, with his only prominent feature being a head of midnight hair that would aggressively spike up in the, which no amount of mollifying coercion (in the form of hair gel) could quell.
On the other hand, almost every single feature of April's stood out, from the roots of her hair to the sound of her name. An artist, it would be almost second nature for her sense of fashion to be entirely too ridiculous for Eli to make any sense out of, but she looked pretty and he had to applaud her for that. She had a slightly more fit physique, thicker thighs and all, chestnut hair with the eyes to match. Her skin was pale, as she had her cultural roots in South Korea. Other than that, she was just your everyday friendly neighborhood lesbian.
Eli cursed as he shuffled through April's stack of papers in the bathroom cabinet, yelling at her to stop leaving her random sketches in random places. A little bit of blood dripped from his hand onto her drawings, to which Eli paused for a moment, simply staring at the paper. Oh, hell no, April was going to absolutely maul him. He quickly picked up the paper to see if it was of importance, and saw something that honestly caught him off guard. It looked like a pentagram, or some sort of similar satanic symbol. Was there something she wasn't telling him? Was she-- Eli paused--in a cult?
"Hey... April, come in here for a moment."
"Yeah, dude? What's up?" She asked, swinging around the corner of the bathroom. She suddenly froze. A cloud of pitch black was looming behind Eli, and something seemingly akin to a hole to the fucking underworld opened up behind him. A tall, towering figure emerged from the opening.
"Eli."
"So, I might have accidentally maybe possibly bled onto one of your drawings and--"
"Eli!"