- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Afternoons, evenings and nights.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Historical, fantasy, magic, horror, supernatural, survival, vampires, demons, pirates, mutants, ghosts, romance (FxF, MxM, MxF) (Romance should be part of the plot and not the whole plot in itself), etc.
"You're such a jerk Anthony." A female voice laughed. There were no visual information, he could only hear the sounds of the street, and the people talking. The voices he had heard all his life, laughing and playing. He didn't even question why his vision was compromised, it simply seemed natural in that very moment. The scent of food was strong, and from somewhere close he heard a salesman telling them what nice prices he had on octopus. Anthony could still remember the taste of those, it was nothing he would eat again. Though fish over all wasn't his thing to begin with.
"Anthony, you okay? You look a bit pale." A male voice came from the shadows. Probably Arthur, it sounded like him and he always worried far too much. He tried to reassure his friend that he was feeling fine, but no words came out.
"Try this out." A third voice said. Camille. weird, she was never with him when Arthur was near. She practically hated him. That's when he realized that he wasn't in one place, he was in many places at the same time. It must be his memories, both the things people spoke to him and the things he smelled, on top of that even the sounds in the background all came from different events, different days.
"Wake up Tony." A fourth voice suddenly cried. Hadn't he told them to not call him Tony? It was the worst nickname ever. "Wake up." The voice continued, now shouting. It repeated itself over and over again until...
Anthony woke up with a jolt. At first he didn't think much of his surrounding, he must have passed out on a party or something like that and now were in a house belonging to a friend of a friend or something like that. It had happened before. But then his mind got slightly worried. He couldn't remember any party. He never got drunk enough to actually forget such things.
Where was he? His heart started to race as he sat up in the bed. What had happened? And why wasn't he home in his own bed? The last thing he could remember were walking home with Arthur. They parted ways just a few blocks before Anthony's house. What had happened after that? His memory was too blurry to be remembered.
Confused he tried to find a rational explanation before he did something too stupid, which easily could happen if he let himself panic. He might have fainted and someone simply found him but didn't know where he lived, thus had to take him home with them. Yeah, that could be it. But his body clearly didn't disagree with that conclusion as it never calmed down even one notch. His hands even started to shake slightly.
"Anthony, you okay? You look a bit pale." A male voice came from the shadows. Probably Arthur, it sounded like him and he always worried far too much. He tried to reassure his friend that he was feeling fine, but no words came out.
"Try this out." A third voice said. Camille. weird, she was never with him when Arthur was near. She practically hated him. That's when he realized that he wasn't in one place, he was in many places at the same time. It must be his memories, both the things people spoke to him and the things he smelled, on top of that even the sounds in the background all came from different events, different days.
"Wake up Tony." A fourth voice suddenly cried. Hadn't he told them to not call him Tony? It was the worst nickname ever. "Wake up." The voice continued, now shouting. It repeated itself over and over again until...
Anthony woke up with a jolt. At first he didn't think much of his surrounding, he must have passed out on a party or something like that and now were in a house belonging to a friend of a friend or something like that. It had happened before. But then his mind got slightly worried. He couldn't remember any party. He never got drunk enough to actually forget such things.
Where was he? His heart started to race as he sat up in the bed. What had happened? And why wasn't he home in his own bed? The last thing he could remember were walking home with Arthur. They parted ways just a few blocks before Anthony's house. What had happened after that? His memory was too blurry to be remembered.
Confused he tried to find a rational explanation before he did something too stupid, which easily could happen if he let himself panic. He might have fainted and someone simply found him but didn't know where he lived, thus had to take him home with them. Yeah, that could be it. But his body clearly didn't disagree with that conclusion as it never calmed down even one notch. His hands even started to shake slightly.