Kloomsy
She/He/They ⟨⟩ Writer ⟨⟩ Artist ⟨⟩ 18+ ⟨⟩ Slytherin ⟨⟩ INFP ⟨⟩ EST
Status: Existing.
[ Please only interact with me if you are 18+. I don't interact with minors. ]
Note: Do not friend request me if you haven’t spoken to me before. Please, that’s all I ask. I want to know someone before I friend them online and I also don’t want to just friend people who I don’t know and get to see their activity. Don’t message me with just a random “hi” or a “hi, how are you”, I ask that you say more than just that and actually inform me why you messaged me.
Friendly People:
❤︎ - ❤︎ - ❤︎ - ❤︎
[ Please only interact with me if you are 18+. I don't interact with minors. ]
My Sweet Children
Note: Do not friend request me if you haven’t spoken to me before. Please, that’s all I ask. I want to know someone before I friend them online and I also don’t want to just friend people who I don’t know and get to see their activity. Don’t message me with just a random “hi” or a “hi, how are you”, I ask that you say more than just that and actually inform me why you messaged me.
Current Song on Repeat:
•——————————•
Friendly People:
❤︎ - ❤︎ - ❤︎ - ❤︎
Hello. My name is Kloomsy! You can call me Kloo, Boop, Thumper, or anything else. Let’s just say my friends give me nicknames and they stick for some reason. Things about me is that I am studying writing, I love learning about cultures and different languages, I am an aspiring author and artist, and many more things. I have a love with stories that involve art such as comics, manga, anime, cartoons, visual novels, animations and more.
I was diagnosed with depressed, anxiety and severe PTSD. So if I ever take a while to respond to a roleplay, don’t worry! I will respond. Sometimes it just takes me a while. The longest I ever go without answering is a week and if I go longer then I tell the person that I’m burnout, on hiatus, having a hard time, etc. I try my best to never ghost. Please be considerate whenever I have a difficult time with my mental health since I am on my healing journey with PTSD, I was recently diagnosed with it, and it’s a bug diagnosis. Thank you!
•——————————•
Total Amount of Characters: 20+
Want to see all my characters in one place? Click my MASTERLIST.
Roleplay Information and rules can be found right here. Make sure to pay attention to them if you’re interested in writing with me. I am ghost friendly, but please look at the link to read more about how I am ghost friendly.
•• I’m working on my own book series with fantasy galore.
•• I have an obsession with crime documentaries, mystery novels, etc. My favorite classic novel is Sherlock Holmes and The Great Gatsby. I love the thrill of a good mystery or drama.
•• My favorite candy is Reese’s or Snickers, but skittles have to be amazing too.
•• My favorite anime is Hellsing. My favorite manga is One Piece.
•• I have three dogs and three cats.
•• My car is small and dingy but I love it more than any other car. Speaking of that.. I probably need to clean out the dash box.
•• Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are movies that I absolutely adore. They are my all time favorites. I also love the books!
WANT MY DISCORD?
Please ask for my discord if you want to talk to me. I don’t put it on here, since I’d rather you DM and talk to me first, then I’ll give you my discord if you want it.
Want to see all my characters in one place? Click my MASTERLIST.
Roleplay Information and rules can be found right here. Make sure to pay attention to them if you’re interested in writing with me. I am ghost friendly, but please look at the link to read more about how I am ghost friendly.
Schedule for RPs
I will shoot out RP replies or notify people OOC that I am busy every couple of days. If you are curious, those days are now:
MONDAY — 9:00 pm or later
WEDNESDAY — 9:00 pm or later
FRIDAY — 11:00 pm or later
If I am inspired I MAYBE will reply on other days outside of those times. If I do not reply, please nudge or boop me. I am not the best at replying sometimes (though I try my best to not ghost), so I sometimes need a reminder. Also, remember my time is EST, so all the times above are under the EST timezone.
I will shoot out RP replies or notify people OOC that I am busy every couple of days. If you are curious, those days are now:
MONDAY — 9:00 pm or later
WEDNESDAY — 9:00 pm or later
FRIDAY — 11:00 pm or later
If I am inspired I MAYBE will reply on other days outside of those times. If I do not reply, please nudge or boop me. I am not the best at replying sometimes (though I try my best to not ghost), so I sometimes need a reminder. Also, remember my time is EST, so all the times above are under the EST timezone.
⬇︎ ⬇︎ ⬇︎
Writing Example 1
Captain Kyven was young when he learned that fate and destiny were two completely different things.
It was when the sun was sweltering, the rays baking the earth and scorching the leaves, when his best friend died. It was just a small cat who suffered from a disease, but still, he couldn’t help but view it as an eye opening experience.
Destiny was something you couldn’t change. It would happen no matter what path you take, what drink you guzzled down, what life you chose. His cat died out of destiny. He couldn’t save it and every doctor refused to because he didn’t have money. It was meant to be so it happened.
Fate was something that you could change. Take the right path and you won’t have to deal with crocodiles, take the left path and avoid the bees, go see a doctor and force them to save the cat even if he didn’t have money. That’s fate. Fate is making a decision and letting that decision change the course of the future.
So, yeah, to him it was an eye opening experience. Right then, Kyven learned that he hated destiny and loved fate. Because destiny was that parent who suffocated you with a rope and dragged you on one path and didn’t let you think of the other. And fate was the parent that ushered you to take your own steps and make your own decisions.
Kyven didn’t like being bossed around. He hated it. To him, he wad the only man who could give himself orders. So when his best friend died and he was left weeping, he cursed this so-called destiny, and wished that it would die and rot just like the corpse he clung too.
So he took it into his own hands. He tossed all these stupid sayings about destiny and dropped it down the drain. His decisions were his own.
However, nowadays? He still remembered when he refused to acknowledge and believe in something that tried to rule over his life. None of that existed to him because fate was far better than destiny.
Oh bloody hell, how wrong he was.
He gritted his teeth and glared at his enemy. It was a soldier, someone he used to call friend long ago, someone who had a name similar to his own. They even gave him that cat before it died and once, they used to call that animal “theirs” instead of “his”.
The marine grinned coldly. There was no remorse and guilt in his expression, it was as if their brain erased all the memories they once had together. Kyven couldn’t recognize his face anymore and some part of him started to erase his name as well.
However, enemy or old friend, no way he was going to back down. Not now. He couldn’t. Kyven didn’t know how he got in this situation if he had to be honest. He thought he did everything he could have possibly done to avoid it. So maybe destiny tricked him and played the role of fate the entire time.
Fate wasn’t on his side in the first place. Fate was merely destiny just called by a different name.
He swallowed down his pride and flinched when he heard the click of the gun. He stared down the barrel. He swore he saw the bullets waiting to enter through his skull and exit through the back. It was too late to say his goodbyes now, not like this new enemy would care for such things anymore.
The trigger pulled and the bang that followed rattled his ears forever.
Captain Kyven was young when he learned that fate and destiny were two completely different things.
It was when the sun was sweltering, the rays baking the earth and scorching the leaves, when his best friend died. It was just a small cat who suffered from a disease, but still, he couldn’t help but view it as an eye opening experience.
Destiny was something you couldn’t change. It would happen no matter what path you take, what drink you guzzled down, what life you chose. His cat died out of destiny. He couldn’t save it and every doctor refused to because he didn’t have money. It was meant to be so it happened.
Fate was something that you could change. Take the right path and you won’t have to deal with crocodiles, take the left path and avoid the bees, go see a doctor and force them to save the cat even if he didn’t have money. That’s fate. Fate is making a decision and letting that decision change the course of the future.
So, yeah, to him it was an eye opening experience. Right then, Kyven learned that he hated destiny and loved fate. Because destiny was that parent who suffocated you with a rope and dragged you on one path and didn’t let you think of the other. And fate was the parent that ushered you to take your own steps and make your own decisions.
Kyven didn’t like being bossed around. He hated it. To him, he wad the only man who could give himself orders. So when his best friend died and he was left weeping, he cursed this so-called destiny, and wished that it would die and rot just like the corpse he clung too.
So he took it into his own hands. He tossed all these stupid sayings about destiny and dropped it down the drain. His decisions were his own.
However, nowadays? He still remembered when he refused to acknowledge and believe in something that tried to rule over his life. None of that existed to him because fate was far better than destiny.
Oh bloody hell, how wrong he was.
He gritted his teeth and glared at his enemy. It was a soldier, someone he used to call friend long ago, someone who had a name similar to his own. They even gave him that cat before it died and once, they used to call that animal “theirs” instead of “his”.
The marine grinned coldly. There was no remorse and guilt in his expression, it was as if their brain erased all the memories they once had together. Kyven couldn’t recognize his face anymore and some part of him started to erase his name as well.
However, enemy or old friend, no way he was going to back down. Not now. He couldn’t. Kyven didn’t know how he got in this situation if he had to be honest. He thought he did everything he could have possibly done to avoid it. So maybe destiny tricked him and played the role of fate the entire time.
Fate wasn’t on his side in the first place. Fate was merely destiny just called by a different name.
He swallowed down his pride and flinched when he heard the click of the gun. He stared down the barrel. He swore he saw the bullets waiting to enter through his skull and exit through the back. It was too late to say his goodbyes now, not like this new enemy would care for such things anymore.
The trigger pulled and the bang that followed rattled his ears forever.
Writing Example 2
The night was younger than Thorn would have liked. The sky was streaked in red and pink stripes as if a messy painter decided to color the sky in, the fluffy clouds an awkward hue between orange and peach.
It was only 8:30 in the evening and yet his crew were already throwing on their shoes to head to the city. He would leave it up to them. They knew what they were doing. He was aware that they knew the risks of running out into the city when some light was left in the sky, however, he wasn’t in such a mood to scold them on just possibilities. A little risk is good to keep the blood pumping.
Conquest was a very pretty young woman. She preferred the word ‘voluptuous’ instead. Her good looks made her a viper amongst the four horsemen, the people who helped aid Thorn with his duties. She could make people trust her with the snap of her fingers. Playing the role of damsel in distress was her forte. Which made her a perfect choice to go and gather new followers for Thorn.
One hour passed until they were in the city. Being an hour away from the heart of London was a great defense against authorities but quite a bother to get in and out from. By 9:30, the sky was almost black. The lights clogged out the stars and pretty moon. She smiled as she slapped on stark red lipstick to her lips, tugging on a normal sweater and jeans. Even if there were men in the car she changed without a care in the world. None looked at her. The gun and knife hidden in the waist of her pants was enough to keep their eyes off.
While she was pretty, she didn’t look all that different to the other pretty girls. There was nothing particularly eye-catching about her other than she had a slightly bigger bust and waist. Some people had unique features that made them stand out, she didn’t.
Ha! Only God knew that her personality is far from eye-catching.
The smile on her face widened when the car stopped. Finally they were there. It was a part in downtown London that was always brimming with the homeless and drug addicts. It was a famous place for drug deals to happen. Even Scotland Yard looked at the place with a wary gaze. Thorn viewed it as a gold mine.
“Time to work, boys,” she giggled. “Let’s make the dear ol’ Sir happy.”
They nodded darkly and hopped from the car. Gathering new people to join the cult was a nasty business only meant for those who would keep their tongue held tight. Conquest was one of the horsemen who were most respected and trusted by Thorn, which is why she has the second most important job.
She stepped from the car and fixed the strap of her heel. The air was stale and cold. London always was dreary to her.
Anyone who lived in Sunside, the town where Thorn’s cult resides, would agree that London was a dreary place for them. Sunside was such an amazing and perfect place. So perfect that even a god resided there. It was a place that would protect them from the end times.
The men strode down an nearest alleyway. She followed while one person stayed in the van.
The car was relatively hidden, followed by another car that looked just the same parking right behind it. That one was meant for the blessed people who wanted a new chance at life.
She grimaced whenever her heel stepped on anything unpleasant. Was it a cigar or the bone of a rat? She had no clue. Her nose was upturned but whenever she saw a homeless person hunkered in a corner, she smiled brightly and her eyes crinkled around the edges. The men did the same.
It was hard to believe that any of them were so serious about their jobs, that they wouldn’t hesitate to pull the triggers hidden beneath their clothes.
Conquest stopped by an old man and sat on some dry newspaper. “Hello there sir. Are you alright?”
He didn't respond. Instead he gave her a disgusting stink eye. It was one of those looks that a ton of christians may give a satanist. He hated the way she looked, acted, and even smelled. His nose crinkled at her perfume. Well, it was no surprise to anyone that her perfume was obnoxious. Even the devil wouldn't lie about that.
She paid his attitude no mind. “Me and my friends are coming around to help you guys and give you chances to get some financial aid and homes. There is a town outside of London, about an hour away, called Sunside. We offer homes to people there along with jobs. I–”
“Get lost ya’ wench. We get enough of ya’ kind in these alleyways. Want some sex, go to the southern part of the alley,” he barked.
Conquest smiled brightly. If she was annoyed, she didn’t show it. It was a perfect pretty mask on her face. “Ah! I see. Then there are some other people here that may need help as well. I’m taking it that you don’t want to hear about Sunside, sir?”
He didn’t respond. Instead he just spat at her, his split flicking across her shoe. The grin didn’t falter and she wiped it off with a handkerchief from her pocket. Conquest quickly stood up and dipped her head to him in a polite expression.
“Thank you for your time sir even if you didn’t want to hear about it. However, do you know anyone else here that may want to listen? I’ll make sure to get out of your hair immediately.”
He growled at her. It sounded animalistic. She didn’t budge from where she stood.
“What was that, sir? Did you say someone’s name?”
The night was younger than Thorn would have liked. The sky was streaked in red and pink stripes as if a messy painter decided to color the sky in, the fluffy clouds an awkward hue between orange and peach.
It was only 8:30 in the evening and yet his crew were already throwing on their shoes to head to the city. He would leave it up to them. They knew what they were doing. He was aware that they knew the risks of running out into the city when some light was left in the sky, however, he wasn’t in such a mood to scold them on just possibilities. A little risk is good to keep the blood pumping.
Conquest was a very pretty young woman. She preferred the word ‘voluptuous’ instead. Her good looks made her a viper amongst the four horsemen, the people who helped aid Thorn with his duties. She could make people trust her with the snap of her fingers. Playing the role of damsel in distress was her forte. Which made her a perfect choice to go and gather new followers for Thorn.
One hour passed until they were in the city. Being an hour away from the heart of London was a great defense against authorities but quite a bother to get in and out from. By 9:30, the sky was almost black. The lights clogged out the stars and pretty moon. She smiled as she slapped on stark red lipstick to her lips, tugging on a normal sweater and jeans. Even if there were men in the car she changed without a care in the world. None looked at her. The gun and knife hidden in the waist of her pants was enough to keep their eyes off.
While she was pretty, she didn’t look all that different to the other pretty girls. There was nothing particularly eye-catching about her other than she had a slightly bigger bust and waist. Some people had unique features that made them stand out, she didn’t.
Ha! Only God knew that her personality is far from eye-catching.
The smile on her face widened when the car stopped. Finally they were there. It was a part in downtown London that was always brimming with the homeless and drug addicts. It was a famous place for drug deals to happen. Even Scotland Yard looked at the place with a wary gaze. Thorn viewed it as a gold mine.
“Time to work, boys,” she giggled. “Let’s make the dear ol’ Sir happy.”
They nodded darkly and hopped from the car. Gathering new people to join the cult was a nasty business only meant for those who would keep their tongue held tight. Conquest was one of the horsemen who were most respected and trusted by Thorn, which is why she has the second most important job.
She stepped from the car and fixed the strap of her heel. The air was stale and cold. London always was dreary to her.
Anyone who lived in Sunside, the town where Thorn’s cult resides, would agree that London was a dreary place for them. Sunside was such an amazing and perfect place. So perfect that even a god resided there. It was a place that would protect them from the end times.
The men strode down an nearest alleyway. She followed while one person stayed in the van.
The car was relatively hidden, followed by another car that looked just the same parking right behind it. That one was meant for the blessed people who wanted a new chance at life.
She grimaced whenever her heel stepped on anything unpleasant. Was it a cigar or the bone of a rat? She had no clue. Her nose was upturned but whenever she saw a homeless person hunkered in a corner, she smiled brightly and her eyes crinkled around the edges. The men did the same.
It was hard to believe that any of them were so serious about their jobs, that they wouldn’t hesitate to pull the triggers hidden beneath their clothes.
Conquest stopped by an old man and sat on some dry newspaper. “Hello there sir. Are you alright?”
He didn't respond. Instead he gave her a disgusting stink eye. It was one of those looks that a ton of christians may give a satanist. He hated the way she looked, acted, and even smelled. His nose crinkled at her perfume. Well, it was no surprise to anyone that her perfume was obnoxious. Even the devil wouldn't lie about that.
She paid his attitude no mind. “Me and my friends are coming around to help you guys and give you chances to get some financial aid and homes. There is a town outside of London, about an hour away, called Sunside. We offer homes to people there along with jobs. I–”
“Get lost ya’ wench. We get enough of ya’ kind in these alleyways. Want some sex, go to the southern part of the alley,” he barked.
Conquest smiled brightly. If she was annoyed, she didn’t show it. It was a perfect pretty mask on her face. “Ah! I see. Then there are some other people here that may need help as well. I’m taking it that you don’t want to hear about Sunside, sir?”
He didn’t respond. Instead he just spat at her, his split flicking across her shoe. The grin didn’t falter and she wiped it off with a handkerchief from her pocket. Conquest quickly stood up and dipped her head to him in a polite expression.
“Thank you for your time sir even if you didn’t want to hear about it. However, do you know anyone else here that may want to listen? I’ll make sure to get out of your hair immediately.”
He growled at her. It sounded animalistic. She didn’t budge from where she stood.
“What was that, sir? Did you say someone’s name?”
Writing Example 3
Michelle never liked the saying “healing is about accepting, not forgetting”.
Such a saying has been told to her thousands of times. Hell, she would even go as far to say a million times. Her mother said it, her father said it, noble ladies said it and so many more. She heard a stable boy say it once to himself in the reflection of a puddle after a long day and she couldn’t help but scoff. Scoff because she didn’t have the luxury of accepting.
Acceptance was weakness. Accepting meant accepting that there would be room for failure and she would not fail. Even if she hurt her knees falling or lost a chunk of her heart, she wouldn’t be sorted into a category under the label “failure”.
So Michelle would never accept and never forget. She would only accept her win whenever the war was done, accept her win whenever she became a king instead of a second hand queen meant to do paperwork instead of rule. So she had her own saying that suited her a lot better than a lousy quote from a nobody that didn’t understand what it meant to truly fight for something.
“May my courage carve my path,” she muttered under her breath as she walked down the docks of the shipyard. Her corset squeezed her lungs like a bird suffocating in a cage, her breathing slightly labored with each long stride to where she was going. “Yes. Don’t be anxious. Just talk to to Lord Hanns.”
Ships of all kinds were on the edge of the kingdom. There were small fishermen boats, transports, boxing, sailors. Sometimes Michelle wondered if there would ever be a pirate ship docked, but then again, she doubted they’d be able to reach the shore before someone shot them down at the sight of a Jolly Roger flag. If there were any pirate ships, they’d have to act like a transport ship instead of a normal sailors if they wanted to gather supplies instead of pillaging.
“Oh, stop thinking of such silly things!” Michelle snapped at herself, wrinkling her nose. “Just find the Lord and speak to him on the matter of the business with father, that’s all. Then I can get to my own business after this errand.”
Lord Hanns often caused her to talk to herself. Though, she often did that, but he caused it to happen more than it already did.
He was a lousy man with a curled mustache and a mop of curly black hair. His skin was often greasy as if he never washed it, his brows so bushy and large that they stood out from his head like two wooly caterpillars right on his head. Lord Hanns was often dressed in the richest of clothing even though Michelle along with her father were of higher status; her father the grand Duke of the kingdom while her late mother was the grand duchess whenever she was alive.
Soon, that title would be passed to Michelle. Not that she wanted it, of course.
Michelle twirled the edge of her long black hair, licking her lips as she walked into a shop that was on the farthest west edge of the shipyard and docks. Inside smelt of seawater, fish, and rust. There was the small linger of her flowery perfume as she walked past the counter into the back room where a room was. Inside sat the said greasy man, Lord Hanns.
His eyes lit up and she held back a curse whenever they raked over her blue violet gem encrusted dress. “Ah, there you are, my lady—“
“Lord Hanns, greetings,” she held her head high. “I am here for my father since he he is too busy to come here himself. He told me to give you this letter. I’m afraid it was too important and classified for a simple messenger to carry it.”
Michelle felt like thousands of spiders crawled across her body whenever she gave him the letter she had tucked between her palm and the folds of the dress. His hand brushed against her and it took everything to not burn her flesh off in the torch flames right then and there.
Lord Hanns didn’t seem discouraged even though it was quite clear she hates his guts. He flashed her a custard colored grin, his black eyes sparkling as she forced a tight smile back.
“Ah I see. For a minute I thought I’d get the pleasure in seeing with you for.. other reasons,” he purred.
Disgusting vile pig.
“I’m afraid not, Lord Hanns. I am supposed to be arranged to a fiancé soon who is closer to my age,” Michelle deadpanned. “as I said… I am only here to give you an important letter from my father. That is it.”
“So—“
“I shall take my leave now. The letter has nothing to do with me and I have no interest in carrying his conversation further. Good day, my lord.”
Every fiber of her being screamed to get out of that room and out of that shop instantly. Why her father told her to meet this man in a shop like this on the shipyard was beyond her but she didn’t question it. The only reason she wasn’t interested in the letter was because she already was nosy enough to know what it was all about, and talking about exchanging businesses between the two men wasn’t enough to keep her attention.
Lord Hanns choked as he did his best to call out to her. Michelle turned on her heel and power walked from the shop, holding the hem of her dress up as she walked down the steps onto the docks once more. Michelle was lucky enough that he didn’t follow after her to get her attention; the letter would keep him occupied enough so she could scurry away.
Now I can finally practice swordsmanship, Michelle thought. The sea crashed with waves as dark clouds lurked in the horizon. …Or not. Maybe some chess will do, or a book on political warfare.
Michelle never liked the saying “healing is about accepting, not forgetting”.
Such a saying has been told to her thousands of times. Hell, she would even go as far to say a million times. Her mother said it, her father said it, noble ladies said it and so many more. She heard a stable boy say it once to himself in the reflection of a puddle after a long day and she couldn’t help but scoff. Scoff because she didn’t have the luxury of accepting.
Acceptance was weakness. Accepting meant accepting that there would be room for failure and she would not fail. Even if she hurt her knees falling or lost a chunk of her heart, she wouldn’t be sorted into a category under the label “failure”.
So Michelle would never accept and never forget. She would only accept her win whenever the war was done, accept her win whenever she became a king instead of a second hand queen meant to do paperwork instead of rule. So she had her own saying that suited her a lot better than a lousy quote from a nobody that didn’t understand what it meant to truly fight for something.
“May my courage carve my path,” she muttered under her breath as she walked down the docks of the shipyard. Her corset squeezed her lungs like a bird suffocating in a cage, her breathing slightly labored with each long stride to where she was going. “Yes. Don’t be anxious. Just talk to to Lord Hanns.”
Ships of all kinds were on the edge of the kingdom. There were small fishermen boats, transports, boxing, sailors. Sometimes Michelle wondered if there would ever be a pirate ship docked, but then again, she doubted they’d be able to reach the shore before someone shot them down at the sight of a Jolly Roger flag. If there were any pirate ships, they’d have to act like a transport ship instead of a normal sailors if they wanted to gather supplies instead of pillaging.
“Oh, stop thinking of such silly things!” Michelle snapped at herself, wrinkling her nose. “Just find the Lord and speak to him on the matter of the business with father, that’s all. Then I can get to my own business after this errand.”
Lord Hanns often caused her to talk to herself. Though, she often did that, but he caused it to happen more than it already did.
He was a lousy man with a curled mustache and a mop of curly black hair. His skin was often greasy as if he never washed it, his brows so bushy and large that they stood out from his head like two wooly caterpillars right on his head. Lord Hanns was often dressed in the richest of clothing even though Michelle along with her father were of higher status; her father the grand Duke of the kingdom while her late mother was the grand duchess whenever she was alive.
Soon, that title would be passed to Michelle. Not that she wanted it, of course.
Michelle twirled the edge of her long black hair, licking her lips as she walked into a shop that was on the farthest west edge of the shipyard and docks. Inside smelt of seawater, fish, and rust. There was the small linger of her flowery perfume as she walked past the counter into the back room where a room was. Inside sat the said greasy man, Lord Hanns.
His eyes lit up and she held back a curse whenever they raked over her blue violet gem encrusted dress. “Ah, there you are, my lady—“
“Lord Hanns, greetings,” she held her head high. “I am here for my father since he he is too busy to come here himself. He told me to give you this letter. I’m afraid it was too important and classified for a simple messenger to carry it.”
Michelle felt like thousands of spiders crawled across her body whenever she gave him the letter she had tucked between her palm and the folds of the dress. His hand brushed against her and it took everything to not burn her flesh off in the torch flames right then and there.
Lord Hanns didn’t seem discouraged even though it was quite clear she hates his guts. He flashed her a custard colored grin, his black eyes sparkling as she forced a tight smile back.
“Ah I see. For a minute I thought I’d get the pleasure in seeing with you for.. other reasons,” he purred.
Disgusting vile pig.
“I’m afraid not, Lord Hanns. I am supposed to be arranged to a fiancé soon who is closer to my age,” Michelle deadpanned. “as I said… I am only here to give you an important letter from my father. That is it.”
“So—“
“I shall take my leave now. The letter has nothing to do with me and I have no interest in carrying his conversation further. Good day, my lord.”
Every fiber of her being screamed to get out of that room and out of that shop instantly. Why her father told her to meet this man in a shop like this on the shipyard was beyond her but she didn’t question it. The only reason she wasn’t interested in the letter was because she already was nosy enough to know what it was all about, and talking about exchanging businesses between the two men wasn’t enough to keep her attention.
Lord Hanns choked as he did his best to call out to her. Michelle turned on her heel and power walked from the shop, holding the hem of her dress up as she walked down the steps onto the docks once more. Michelle was lucky enough that he didn’t follow after her to get her attention; the letter would keep him occupied enough so she could scurry away.
Now I can finally practice swordsmanship, Michelle thought. The sea crashed with waves as dark clouds lurked in the horizon. …Or not. Maybe some chess will do, or a book on political warfare.
•——————————•
—Trivia—
•• I’m working on my own book series with fantasy galore.
•• I have an obsession with crime documentaries, mystery novels, etc. My favorite classic novel is Sherlock Holmes and The Great Gatsby. I love the thrill of a good mystery or drama.
•• My favorite candy is Reese’s or Snickers, but skittles have to be amazing too.
•• My favorite anime is Hellsing. My favorite manga is One Piece.
•• I have three dogs and three cats.
•• My car is small and dingy but I love it more than any other car. Speaking of that.. I probably need to clean out the dash box.
•• Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are movies that I absolutely adore. They are my all time favorites. I also love the books!
WANT MY DISCORD?
Please ask for my discord if you want to talk to me. I don’t put it on here, since I’d rather you DM and talk to me first, then I’ll give you my discord if you want it.
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Rave Reviews
Kloomsy is a fantastic writer. He gives detailed responses, and is impossibly patient and understanding. Each of his characters are well thought out and intricate, without becoming overwhelming. Kloomsy gives great feedback and is very good with communication OOC and IC.
10/10 Wonderful writer Fast responses - _Apollo_
10/10 Wonderful writer Fast responses - _Apollo_
The opportunity to both know and write with Kloomsy is a journey fresh and new! Not only do they understand the trials and tribulations of life in the current scheme of things, but they also bear the patience of a true saint. Their writing is sublime, detailed to the nth degree, imaginative, and thought-provoking! Their character manifest is an eclectic list with ample diversity that inspires intrigue and a jaunty stroll through the darker side of our own human curiosities.
Creative ideas
Wonderful writer
- Atheist
Inquiring minds want to know why we too should befriend Kloomsy!
Did you remember to explain why your friend is awesome?
