- 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)
"It wasn't even a big deal, Pavor makes it seem worse than it is, y'know? I met up with some of my father's friends here, got the tattoo, and they just roughed me up a bit, told me to get my head in check. I s'pose I've been lacking in commitment since our relationship became stronger. It really isn't an issue, Tom. I'm good at selling stuff; I can sell drugs. It's a decent business, when it's run properly," he groaned, the painful anguish coming from having to tug off his t-shirt whilst making sure his hand wasn't moved too much - though moving it was inevitable, and so was the subsequent pain.
"Besides, I wanna earn my own money. I have millions in my account, but it's all money my father's given me. It doesn't mean that much. You know, I once shot a man inbetween the eyes and stole his cash? I couldn't bring myself to spend any of it. It didn't feel right, it wasn't my money. It means a lot to me to earn cash myself," he continued, clearly in his own world. Normally, admitting to murders he -and his friends- had embarked on was far from his mind. He didn't want Thomas hating him or being scared, but being in as much pain as he was, things slipped out that he would come to regret saying. "Oi, help me take my t-shirt off, would you? I can hardly move without wanting to scream."
"Besides, I wanna earn my own money. I have millions in my account, but it's all money my father's given me. It doesn't mean that much. You know, I once shot a man inbetween the eyes and stole his cash? I couldn't bring myself to spend any of it. It didn't feel right, it wasn't my money. It means a lot to me to earn cash myself," he continued, clearly in his own world. Normally, admitting to murders he -and his friends- had embarked on was far from his mind. He didn't want Thomas hating him or being scared, but being in as much pain as he was, things slipped out that he would come to regret saying. "Oi, help me take my t-shirt off, would you? I can hardly move without wanting to scream."