Alexander Arjon
The only friends I have are the earth and the rats
Posts: 38
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Post by Alexander Arjon on May 14, 2013 17:46:30 GMT -5
He had been following her for a while now, their last encounter somewhat she had been living her life just as normal. But he had also noticed that things had changed. She was frightened of him first and yet to be a gentleman and all he had bought her flowers to not scare her. His usual dark clothing changed to a more happier tone as he choose a baby blue suit. Both his wrist covered in bandages as he had also prepared a crown and brought a little stuffed rabbit for the girl. He actually was not her friend or anything like that but he had been crazed in his own romantic way and made believe in his head that the woman was actually his. Oh if he could change time and reverse the minutes. His life had not improved and of course he was the bad guy of the story, the bad boy as it where.But alas things in his wicked head could not change. He needed company and in this way he could ask the gal to be his friend. He hoped that it could come to that agreement and not have to use force. Petting the rat on his head with it´s children he settled it down and curled around his lap protecting it´s young. Ah what a wonderful cycle life presented, and gave.
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Christine Daaé
The Swedish Nightingale and Fairy of the North
If when the time comes, I refuse to go with you, well then, Raoul, you must carry me off by force!
Posts: 1,592
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Post by Christine Daaé on Jul 20, 2013 18:58:11 GMT -5
Madame Christine de Chagny lay sound asleep in her bed that evening. She was already well into her pregnancy, and so she had been resting more often than usual. After all, it would be bad for her to overexert herself while carrying the baby. Raoul had been with her earlier, but they had since said their goodnights and parted ways. He had gone back to his room, and she remained in hers. Now, she was sound asleep, and blissfully unaware of the man whom had entered her bedroom.
Christine pulled the blankets a little closer around herself and stretched a bit before settling into her pillow some more. It was a very quiet night—almost too quiet. One could have heard a pin drop if they listened hard enough. The golden locks of her hair spilled around her head on the pillow, creating almost a sort of nest for her to lay her head in as she slept on.
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