[identity profile] just-a-driver.livejournal.com

A black sedan came speeding down a wet London side street and glided to a graceful stop in front of one of the town houses that had seen better days but still carried themselves with ancient dignity. It just sat there for a second. Then the driver's door opened and the driver emerged closed and locked the door, slipped on a pair of expensive sun glasses and stepped around the car onto the pavement. He moved with the same panther-like grace as the car had a moment earlier. Only his left arm seemed to be reluctant to follow the body's movement as he walked up to the door and rang doorbell with his other hand, glancing up and down the street in casual watchfulness as he did so.

Test Thread

Aug. 3rd, 2010 01:50 pm
[identity profile] beachbunnykirby.livejournal.com
Location: A rooftop in some South-American state.
Time: Sometime in the late 1990s

Kirby pressed her body flat against the roof she was perched on and peered over the ridge. Yes, this was the perfect spot to wait for her target to appear. The deal that was going to go down in the room behind the window just pefectly in her sight and her range would not end quite like her employer's business partner expected.

She made herself comfortable where she was, relaxing against the sun-warmed tiles of the roof for the moment. There was plenty time left, but it was good to be in position well ahead of anyone else.

To pass time, and because it was a good idea in general, she checked her gear one more time.
[identity profile] mcleod1592.livejournal.com
Out on his usual morning exercise run, Duncan had left the manor and park, moving along the side of the road down into the village. His mind was on a lot of things when he ran, and keeping trackof his surroundings usually played only the smallest of parts.

He settled into a rhythm he knew his body could keep up for hours on end let his thoughts wander as he crosed the village and continued into the countryside.
[identity profile] halosphere.livejournal.com
I've been asked by [livejournal.com profile] _silverfox to give a demonstration of my writing skills in the form of a thread here: We'd also like you to give us a demonstration of Raphael and your writing skills in the form of a thread right here at MP. (It does not have to become game canon unless you want it to.) Your partner for this is Aziraphale and your assignment is *fanfare*: Raphael and Aziraphale meet for the first time after along period of separation, but Raphael has just found out about both Aziraphale's relationship with Crowley and the threat from Beelzebub.

So here is the first post :3 Feel free to let me know if I followed instructions incorrectly.

Date: (open) Mid-afternoon, about six PM
Status: Private, Raphael and Aziraphale
Setting: Indoors, a little outdoors but within grounds
Summary: Raphael arrives and searches for answers, as well as his son.

Raphael Demonstration Post )

((•))
 

Sample

Apr. 10th, 2010 09:26 pm
lordofsin: (Belial)
[personal profile] lordofsin

  Soft music was playing overhead, and the rustle of expensive cloth, the clink of glasses, and the susurrus of inane conversation were all things Belial was familiar with. A small smile curled his lips. He loved these so-called high-class bars, where the patrons liked to believe that they were a cut above the common people in their common bars. They liked to believe that they had classy sins of their own, too. As if. Everything ultimately came down to the Seven, and sin was sin, wherever you found it. The sheer pride and lust and greed in the air was almost tangible. He licked his lips slowly, letting his eyes rest on the décolletage of a woman staring blatantly at him, or perhaps at the leather dog collar just barely visible beneath the collar of his white dress shirt. She flushed, turning back to her companions, but sneaking glances at him. Go on. Skim a little off those accounts. You know you want to, and nobody will ever notice. 

  He toyed with the paper umbrella that probably accounted for a quarter of the ridiculous price of his drink - not that he'd needed to pay, he never did - and leaned back in his seat, discreetly watching the people around him and pretending not to notice the eyes, both male and female, that were fixed on him. Most demons tried to be subtle*; he, however, had found that the attention often made his work easier.

  It was almost boring these days, though, with each person thinking that their entanglement, their temptation, was the first and most confusing of its sort, when the number of times he'd seen such situations could fill books. Where was the variety? The challenge?

  The door opened, and he turned to assess the newcomer.

* - Whether or not they actually succeeded is another matter, of course.

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