- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Steampunk, Romance, Scifi, Horror, Modern, and Fantasy, although I'm always jazzed to try something new.
Flinne hadn't noticed the grip she'd had on his pants. When she'd pulled her hand away however, it drew his eyes. A rough digit rolled the cherry on the butt of his rifle, and he finally pulled his eyes up from the weapon.
<i>What kind of jerk are you? She likes you. More importantly, you like <b>her</b>. And here you are planning to go through with some foolish plan that will very probably have you both Unmade by the end of the week. So go ahead </i>Survivor<i>, tell the girl to hold on tight, and pray to whatever higher power hasn't been unmade by this damnable Unreality that you don't drag her into your hell.</i> The voice in his mind was full of contempt for his selfishness.
A much quieter voice, asked: <i>There's a chance. You deserve a chance at happiness, don't you?</i>
Rife with indecision, Flinne pushed himself slowly to his feet. He took a few steps away from the couch, holding his rifle one-handedly about the bolt-area. His other hand rose to squeeze at the bridge of his nose tiredly. He was beginning to need a shave again. "If I wait one more day," He said quietly. "Then I might disappear. If I disappear, then you've got no reason, -no way- to get yourself dragged into..." He grimaced, and shook his head. "That is my hesitation. That is my uncertainty." He half-turned towards the Dreamer again.
"But if you'd like to try to bring me back, then I won't stop you." He offered the girl his hand.
<i>What kind of jerk are you? She likes you. More importantly, you like <b>her</b>. And here you are planning to go through with some foolish plan that will very probably have you both Unmade by the end of the week. So go ahead </i>Survivor<i>, tell the girl to hold on tight, and pray to whatever higher power hasn't been unmade by this damnable Unreality that you don't drag her into your hell.</i> The voice in his mind was full of contempt for his selfishness.
A much quieter voice, asked: <i>There's a chance. You deserve a chance at happiness, don't you?</i>
Rife with indecision, Flinne pushed himself slowly to his feet. He took a few steps away from the couch, holding his rifle one-handedly about the bolt-area. His other hand rose to squeeze at the bridge of his nose tiredly. He was beginning to need a shave again. "If I wait one more day," He said quietly. "Then I might disappear. If I disappear, then you've got no reason, -no way- to get yourself dragged into..." He grimaced, and shook his head. "That is my hesitation. That is my uncertainty." He half-turned towards the Dreamer again.
"But if you'd like to try to bring me back, then I won't stop you." He offered the girl his hand.