- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- evening on thur , fri, and sat
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Genres
- dragon age series, asoiaf series, erotic, dark fantasy, high fantasy, suspense, adventure
The dark, dreary hours of the evening were a sign that a storm was coming. The clouds were a charcoal color and every tall tale sign of what was once a fine evening sunk into the distance. People yelled over one another as they scrambled to get home to their children, husbands, and wives in a timely manner. In the upper side of Devils Fork, Alicia clung onto the last of her shirking humanity as she commanded the museum curator and everyone else to get down on their knees and put their hands over their heads. They complied.
"Tie them up, men."
She walked around the jewelry museum, her eyes hard as steel as she surveyed each of the hundreds of hostages. "How much is this necklace worth?" she questioned the curator, gesturing to the piece of jewelry laden with diamonds, rubies, and pearls. "$5 million."
"Take it."
The museum was a boorish place to be. It was bright, the walls white as snow, and appeared delicate as glass. The floor below her was the same. She was walking in a pale room filled with colorless stands and royal blue cushions beneath the loot her thieves were grabbing with gloves that didn't trace their fingerprints onto the jewelry. Alicia noticed a hostage around the corner begin to fidget around and suspected he might be trying to undo the restraints. She blew the top of his head off and everyone screamed.
"Shut up!" A familiar male voice approached. "Babe, we got everything." She cracked her knuckles as he leaned forward and kissed the upper part of her neck. She shrugged him off. How many times had she told him to address her by her real name? "Alright boys," she called out. "Let's blow this place up."
"At your command." A small beep and the timer for twenty minutes began ticking. "Keep an eye on the hostages. If any of them move, shoot. Leave the manager to me." She took off to where they'd successfully kept the manager of the jewelry museum– in his office. Alicia moved up the winding steps, her legs carrying her like a bird across the interior. She dove for the manager the moment she burst through the doors.
The brown-haired gal could feel the sweat on the back of his neck begin to seep into her business like attire. "Say goodbye you old bag of bones," she whispered, her fingers about to pull back the trigger when she suddenly heard the glass windows shatter, deafening her as she immediately dove for cover behind one of the bulky sofa chairs, then fired a shot at the trespasser.
@Artorias
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