- 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.
Scully chuckled at his stupor. "Death by rats! They'll have you tied up against the wall, naked, and the rats will come, one by one, and nibble away at your poor, helpless--" He was cut off by the sound of Sav necking him. "Stop messing with the poor thing. Look at him. He can barely form a sentence. Don't you have a soul? Geez. You're not dying, Peter. You uh-- it was decided that you would take on the next assassination job. What with your distaste for murder and all... I'm sorry, dude." She told him, giving him a pat on the back.
"But it's okay. Come on, we owe your lady friend an explanation." Savvy piped, nudging him to the infirmary.
Booker held his unexpected guest's offer on his tongue for a good moment. The man''s intel never ceased to amaze him, he had gotten word of a pregnant dog for Christ's sake. Pitbulls do make wonderful attack dogs, and are well known for guarding illegal narcotics operations. Plus, they could never have too many dogs. If needed, one could just stay behind as a... therapy mutt, or something. Booker had a well-known affection for dogs, and Carnegie knew this very well.
"I see you still talk like an 18th century nobleman. Yeah, we could use another fighting dog. Tell me the details in the back." He said, gesturing for Carnegie to follow him to a less rowdy area, a storage room used primarily as a one on one meeting chamber.
June was currently being bombarded by a swarm of people welcoming the newcomer. June, of course, could not answer any of their questions because she, in fact, was deaf, and could not hear them, nor did she have the concentration necessary to focus on one person's mouth long enough to form a full sentence. The nurse had to shoo them all outside, as they were making entirely too much of a ruckus for her to do anything. She was being ushered out when she tripped on, well, seemingly nothing but pavement, and let out a yelp.
"But it's okay. Come on, we owe your lady friend an explanation." Savvy piped, nudging him to the infirmary.
Booker held his unexpected guest's offer on his tongue for a good moment. The man''s intel never ceased to amaze him, he had gotten word of a pregnant dog for Christ's sake. Pitbulls do make wonderful attack dogs, and are well known for guarding illegal narcotics operations. Plus, they could never have too many dogs. If needed, one could just stay behind as a... therapy mutt, or something. Booker had a well-known affection for dogs, and Carnegie knew this very well.
"I see you still talk like an 18th century nobleman. Yeah, we could use another fighting dog. Tell me the details in the back." He said, gesturing for Carnegie to follow him to a less rowdy area, a storage room used primarily as a one on one meeting chamber.
June was currently being bombarded by a swarm of people welcoming the newcomer. June, of course, could not answer any of their questions because she, in fact, was deaf, and could not hear them, nor did she have the concentration necessary to focus on one person's mouth long enough to form a full sentence. The nurse had to shoo them all outside, as they were making entirely too much of a ruckus for her to do anything. She was being ushered out when she tripped on, well, seemingly nothing but pavement, and let out a yelp.
Last edited: