- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Online Availability
- 3pm - 1am (GMT / BST)
- Writing Levels
- Beginner
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Monsters, supernatural, fantasy, romance, criminality, slice-of-life (modern or set in past, usually with some twists)
"I don't plan on either one of getting hurt, alright? We're gonna trash some shop, pocket some cash and just wait, y'know? The kid's bound to turn up and then we'll just... I dunno, we'll work it out. You ain't getting hurt," he promised, offering a firm kiss on the lips as a show of his confidence, before wandering out. Admittedly, he was a tad nervous, even if he hated feeling like that. There was someone out there who could somehow injure him; who could injure him with a bog-standard kitchen knife that, if used by anyone else, usually wouldn't even enter Brandon's body. That petrified him-- but at least he knew he could heal afterwards. It was a completely different thing for Skyler to confront, given one stab wound could be fatal.
That said, it didn't stop Brandon from enjoying himself once in some uptown designer store, trailing a hand through the £500-plus dresses while keeping his other hand on his gun and trained on the several women customers who were sat terrified on the floor, hands on their heads. None of them appeared to be the 'hero' Brandon hoped to come face-to-face with, and time wasn't really on his side. A few more minutes, and armed policemen in their dozens would be outside the store.
"Where the fuckin' hell is this guy?" He grumbled, pulling himself onto the counter to rifle through the cash register, tossing Skyler his gun to do so. "I mean, jeez, what a fuckin' let down. Hey, after this, I'm gonna have some beers. I don't drink, but fuck, I need it. My side is killin' me because of that hero asshole."
In Brandon's distraction, with his back turned as he rooted through the till and shoved wads of cash into his backpack, he'd failed to notice the fact that, seemingly out of thin air, said 'hero' had appeared with a fun pressed to the back of his head before the loud gunshot went off and left the villain unconscious on the floor.
"Y-You. Oi, you, I'm-- I'm talking to you. Take your gun off those people and... and let them leave," he murmured with the gun aimed directly at Skyler... albeit in an incredibly shaky hand. Unlike the villains, the hero hadn't worn a mask or anything to really disguise his identity, which let it be known just how young he was, even though he was rather tall. His young age of perhaps 14 or 15 could explain his nervousness, which was not only shown through the shaking and stammering, but also the anxious shuffling from foot to foot. Hell, he was still in his school uniform, though his tie was dishevelled and his school jumper a little worn and torn. The teenager, with his bronze skin tone, green eyes and array of freckles, was rather cute-- though probably not in Skyler's eyes when he had a gun aimed at him. "I... I'll shoot, you saw what I did to that other guy, so... so let the people go, alright?"
That said, it didn't stop Brandon from enjoying himself once in some uptown designer store, trailing a hand through the £500-plus dresses while keeping his other hand on his gun and trained on the several women customers who were sat terrified on the floor, hands on their heads. None of them appeared to be the 'hero' Brandon hoped to come face-to-face with, and time wasn't really on his side. A few more minutes, and armed policemen in their dozens would be outside the store.
"Where the fuckin' hell is this guy?" He grumbled, pulling himself onto the counter to rifle through the cash register, tossing Skyler his gun to do so. "I mean, jeez, what a fuckin' let down. Hey, after this, I'm gonna have some beers. I don't drink, but fuck, I need it. My side is killin' me because of that hero asshole."
In Brandon's distraction, with his back turned as he rooted through the till and shoved wads of cash into his backpack, he'd failed to notice the fact that, seemingly out of thin air, said 'hero' had appeared with a fun pressed to the back of his head before the loud gunshot went off and left the villain unconscious on the floor.
"Y-You. Oi, you, I'm-- I'm talking to you. Take your gun off those people and... and let them leave," he murmured with the gun aimed directly at Skyler... albeit in an incredibly shaky hand. Unlike the villains, the hero hadn't worn a mask or anything to really disguise his identity, which let it be known just how young he was, even though he was rather tall. His young age of perhaps 14 or 15 could explain his nervousness, which was not only shown through the shaking and stammering, but also the anxious shuffling from foot to foot. Hell, he was still in his school uniform, though his tie was dishevelled and his school jumper a little worn and torn. The teenager, with his bronze skin tone, green eyes and array of freckles, was rather cute-- though probably not in Skyler's eyes when he had a gun aimed at him. "I... I'll shoot, you saw what I did to that other guy, so... so let the people go, alright?"