forum No idea what to call this (anyone can join) (FINISHED)

Started September 30, 2020 by Deleted user

tune

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"It's dinnertime." He said, getting up to make steaks

"Oh," Nyx said; she was focused on shooting a Creeper. When Vozreal closed the game, she let out a small growl of annoyance. "Hey!"

Beckett heard the commotion from downstairs and followed it. He hadn't really slept well–he never really slept well, not anymore–and the pain from his wrist was bad enough to cloud his vision. He grabbed the railing tightly as he went downstairs, holding his injured wrist against his chest.
"What're you guys doing?" Beckett asked. "And where's Pepper?"
Vozrael and Nyx were on the couch, but Peppermint was nowhere to be seen. Beckett dug his nails into his palm in an attempt to calm his nerves. She's probably asleep. Kids sleep a lot, right? She's probably fine he mentally assured himself. Another far less welcome voice was there too. You let her out of your sight, and now she's gone. Just like Cora. And you couldn't save this one either.

"I think pepper is in a spare bedroom…"

Nyx looked up and immediately tucked her wrists behind her back. "Oh, look who's up."

"Want some steak?"

"I need to go do something," Nyx said hurriedly, then scampered upstairs to put her bracelets on.

He continued making steaks

Beckett sat on the couch and turned off the videogame. Minecraft, that same goddamn game that he'd had to hear about nonstop throughout his middle school and high school years. He'd always found it incredibly boring. He fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket, pulling it up to examine the swelling of his wrist. Almost definitely broken, but he'd be fine. A broken wrist was nothing compared to a broken skull or something. Ha. He guessed that even in death, Cora had him beat in the impressive injury category.

"Rude. We were playing that." he said, still making steaks

Nyx paused when she saw the dress on the bed. It was deep reddish-purple, the colour of wine, with black lace on the bodice.
Maybe she should put it on, but it clashed with her bracelets, and she couldn't risk letting Beckett see her spurs.
"Oh, who cares," she muttered to herself before putting it on. The fabric felt like water against her legs; the deep burgundy made her teal eyes stand out in her moon-pale face. It accented her slim waist and her gentle curves to perfection.
Nyx examined herself in the full-length mirror. She looked… pretty.
Phoenix-level pretty. Winter-level pretty, even.
She could almost hear Seven: you look really nice today, Six.
And with that, she put her bracelets on and went out of her room, heading downstairs.

"You're making steaks," Beckett pointed out. "So unless you can multitask like a goddamn octopus, you weren't playing it. Also, television and video games are for people whose personalities can't carry a conversation."
He didn't believe that, not really, but he'd taken to saying it to Casey whenever he'd invite a bunch of obnoxious guys over to play the latest simulated murder game. It usually shut a few of them up long enough for him to get to the door and leave, preferably with time to snag some chips.

"You look… beautiful…" He told Nyx, making his tentacles go to the console, turn it back on, and started playing it.
"What were you saying?" He said, smirking

Nyx turned faintly pink.

"So… want a steak?" He asked again

"Oh, just that you're bland as hell," Beckett replied casually. He found most people bland as hell, to be honest. Most people were either bland or irritating, at least once you were in college. It wasn't a super solid categorization, but he could sort most of the people he knew into it, with a small handful of outliers who were actually decent.

Nyx fairly floated down the stairs, purple dress swirling around her ankles. Smirking slightly, she sat down at the head of the table.

"Just answer my question. You want some steak?" He repeated

Nyx raised a hand. "I'll take some."

He began to nosebleed slightly

"Nah, I'm a vegetarian," Beckett said. It was a lie, of course, but he wasn't about to eat anything from a stranger. Not anymore. He'd learned that lesson, thank you very much.

"Okay then!" He finished cooking, and added the finishing touchs.

The steaks looked really good.

Ivchenko hadn’t slept at all. He didn’t require it, even if he’d occasionally do it - if only to not have others ask questions.

And now he was passing outside of that same house again. Last time he went by there, if he recalled correctly, his first encounter did not turn out well. But Ivchenko was never the type to give up; who knows, maybe a second try would provide different results with these people?
He made his way towards the front door and knocked.

Vozreal answered the door.
"Yes?" He said, looking at the tall figure in the eye, almost as tall as Ivchenko