• Content count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Mystic

  1. Secret Santa and Card Exchange Hooray!

    Merry Christmas all!
  2. The Birthday Thread!

    Happy Birthday HH! /glomp
  3. Secret Santa and Card Exchange Hooray!

    I didn't realize that my name wasn't out there for everyone to use. /facepalm Thanks for the card Asura, it's pretty dope!
  4. What's Uuuuuup

    What's up yo? /secrethandshake

    I didn't even notice that to be honest. Mind telling me why you were looking down there and NOT at my magnificent beard?
  6. "Come on Pete, just let me read it," she pleaded. "Just relax Sam, it'll be finished soon," he responded quietly, pen poised upon his lips. She shook her head at him but a faint smile played across her features as she ran a hand over the small bulge in her stomach. "Have you thought of any names yet?" He scribbled a few words upon the notebook and responded with a shake of his head, framed eyes stealing a glance at the tiny baby bump his wife was massaging. "I'll give it some thought," he offered lightly, before returning to his own little world. Samantha ran her fingers through his hair and reclined her head upon a pillow, still smiling at the prospect of motherhood. ----- Peter lifted his head from the pillow, fingers blindly scrambling upon the bedside table in search of his glasses; finally seizing them, he hastily donned them and clicked his lamp on. With a quick glance at his watch, he shuffled out of bed and began murmuring to himself as he strode across the mostly darkened bedroom, pale moonlight failing to penetrate the many windows that adorned the walls. Down the hallway he roamed, his hands gesturing at the invisible ideas flowing from his lips; on cue, his right hand found a brass doorknob, and he lifted the slightly tilted door upward to prevent it from squeaking as he opened it. He peeked inside of his daughter's room, which was awash in a soft pink glow emitted from a night light; he monitored her for a moment, watching her chest and the teddy bear she clutched to it in her sleep rise and fall without effort. Sophie is safe Peter, now get to the typewriter. He closed the door with a cautiously slow deliberance before proceeding further down the hallway, eyes on his watch once again. His bare feet met the familiar cool metal of a slender spiral staircase, the muscle memory of the repetitive action kicking in; within moments, he found himself within his office, a spacious third floor of the house that housed his writing materials and more importantly, his creative space. "Ok, 3:23 in the morning," he mumbled softly as he approached his desk. His slender fingers were punching keys upon the typewriter before he had seated himself, or even had turned the desk lamp on; he eventually treated himself to the lamp's light after fifteen minutes of writing, and only because he had stopped to remove his cumbersome watch. His new novel was, sadly, coming along at a snail's pace; Peter was plagued by a nasty case of writer's block, but only because the characters of the story just weren't cooperating with him. His male lead, for example, refused to translate onto paper the way he visualized him inside his mind, which was infinitely frustrating. "Come on Michael," he uttered platonically, his fingers flying across the well-worn keys. It was going to be a long night. ----- The mug of forgotten coffee had long ago turned stone cold, but Peter was far too gone to even realize the rising sun eagerly awaiting his attention. He massaged his stubble and peered up at the ceiling, his fingertips aching; he hadn't accomplished much and that was a disappointing omen. His middle of the night writing sessions had proved fruitful for many years, but lately, they had caused him more frustration than anything. But why? His head tilted and the dull gleam of sunlight filtering in through the window behind him reflected off his wedding ring, catching his sore eyes. He studied the ring for a few moments, the symbolism not lost upon him; even though he was extremely tired, he could easily recognize the connection between the ring and his faltering storytelling ability. Somewhere outside, he heard birds chirping, their announcement of a new day causing him to flip over the watch on his desk. It read 6:26. Sophie will be awake soon and you need to get breakfast ready--it's a school day, after all. Heeding his mind's advice, he stood to his feet and scooped up the watch before switching off the lamp, leaving behind his workspace of turmoil in search of a more positive environment. ----- One of Peter's hidden talents was his ability to cook, and exceptionally well at that; it was a very therapeutic procedure for him, and sometimes Sophie would help him out in the kitchen. On most nights, he would let her choose what they would eat for dinner and he would set out to make sure the food knocked her socks off; he had gotten pretty good at it too, because she was even eating her vegetables now, which was a milestone victory in any parent's life. On this particular morning, he was putting together sausages, eggs and cheese on English muffins with silver dollar sized blueberry pancakes; he surprisingly found that he was ravenous this morning, which was uncharacteristic of him, seeing as how he wasn't a breakfast man. He set the table with care, plates and silverware for them both, though their beverages differed at orange juice for her, slightly-nauseating-reheated-burnt coffee for him. Peter patted his hands dry on his pajama pants and walked briskly over to the intercom; he had a system installed throughout the house, mostly because Sophie was sometimes afraid to venture to his room or office when she woke up in the middle of the night--the intercom eliminated that problem. "Sophie," he called through the intercom, hearing his own voice within her room up on the second floor, "time to wake up sleepyhead."
  7. Secret Santa and Card Exchange Hooray!

    The gift I bought is in town and on its way to my house, so I'll be sending it out this afternoon. Should probably get cards and do those as well.
  8. Kind of, sort of reminds me of Shade's Children by Garth Nix. Fantastic read by the way, check it out if you're ever in a library.
  9. Fairy Tales For Sophie

    Peter sat in an internet cafe, the dark, rainy night outside a perfect environment in which to get a little more work done. However, as he attempted to grind out a few more chapters for his novel-in-progress, he found himself longing to return to the story he was currently sharing with Sophie. Observing the steam rising from his coffee, he contemplated what he should do with those characters next. He had dropped his daughter off at Katie's house about an hour or so ago after he had gotten them pizza, much to her amusement; Katie's party was tomorrow, but he doubted he was going to show up, and he had explained as much to her parents. In consolation, he had purchased everything for Sophie's friend that she requested, and because she's spoiled, his daughter had even gotten one of the dolls for herself. At any rate, Peter's work was far more important than some little girl's celebration, especially considering he had been getting so little done lately and he had a deadline hanging over his head. The lazy occupants around him conversed softly as the struggling author began to rapidly tap upon his laptop's keys, diving back into the story at hand. ~~~~~ Rushing waters slipped past and through his split legs, his bare feet grounded into the silt and sand beneath him. Silas was clad only in a pair of trousers, the bottoms of which were rolled up nearly to the tops of his thighs. Murmuring incessantly to himself, he dove his outstretched arms into the water, much too slow to wrangle one of the many fish darting downstream. Over the last couple of days, Silas had been teaching and showing many things to Ava, including how to apply basic medical aid, how to start a campfire and many other essentials that come into play while out in the wilderness; the only thing left was to show her how to defend herself should the situation ever arise. That part would probably prove to be the most difficult, for he doubted she had any sort of training, but it was necessary to pursue such a venture. As Silas continued to fail in the way of capturing any fish, he thought back on their interaction a couple days ago; their lust and passion had combined into something special that night, and it was something he pondered often. Ava was in a noticeably cheery mood ever since, seemingly aglow with contentment and appreciative of the pleasure he had given to her. Despite his failure at his current activity, he grinned as he missed another fish by a large margin. He straightened up and flexed his back as he looked over to the riverbank, noticing their horse lazily absorbing sunlight as it laid upon the ground, but Ava was nowhere to be seen. Wading through the water toward the edge of the river, he briefly wondered what it was that she needed to share with him. Earlier that morning, she had told him that they needed to discuss something of importance, but after his foray into the forest for berries and wood, and his unsuccessful fishing trip into the river, he hadn't seen her since. He shook excess amounts of water off his legs as he made it to shore, the dry dirt welcome amongst his pruned toes. Grateful for the warm sun filtering through the treetops, Silas donned his basic undershirt and bent low to pet the horse. The large animal whinied softly, fixing its huge eyeballs on Silas; he was grateful for the horse, appreciating the fact that it was in their possession. It was an incredibly great asset and luxury, for he had long ago been without one and those times were harsh and unforgiving. A soft smile still present on his face, Silas rose to his feet and slowly strode away, absent mindedly observing the evident yet faint scars that adorned his forearms; the torture he had absorbed seemed as if it had occurred a lifetime ago, but it hadn't even been two weeks yet. He applied salves and creams to himself nightly, which he wrapped in bandages, and the healing had been accelerated by a great degree, of which he was thankful for. Silas stepped into the shack, the wooden floorboards underneath his weight immediately creaking and protesting his intrusion. His eyes easily found Ava sitting at the table, of which the contents of his pack were spread out atop. He figured she was probably studying them, or perhaps taking inventory, but whatever the case, he stepped towards her with a grin on his face. "What are you doing in here all alone?"


    Dat Winter beard though.
  12. Secret Santa and Card Exchange Hooray!

    Ugh. I really hope what I bought gets here soon. I'd hate for my gift to arrive late.
  13. ...and it made me frown

    Most of the Christmas gifts I've ordered online are taking their sweet ass time to get here, which is to be expected this time of year, but that doesn't it make it any less annoying. Also, my birthday is on the 30th and I have no idea what I want to do. ffffffffff
  14. Greetings!

    Greetings Maiden, welcome to Surreality! On this forum, all new members are relegated as Students until they take on the Graduation process. It basically boils down to our Scholars judging and grading a roleplay that is a 'test', for lack of a better word. But once you become a graduate, you're free to roleplay with whoever you like! Aside from that, though, I appreciate you sharing some details about yourself. Although I live in California, I am originally from Ohio, so you're already a cool person in my book! Anyway, have fun and enjoy your stay here on Surreality!
  15. Hey, I'm new.

    Hey there Sandy, it's a pleasure to meet you. You know about the Graduation process already, but if you have any other questions, the Scholars are definitely the ones you want to talk to. Other than that, thanks for sharing a little bit about yourself with us. I hope you enjoy your stay on Surreality!
  16. Allo again!

    Welcome back stranger! I am no stranger to these Reasons you speak of--I know them all too well. But, I hope you enjoy your stay now that you're back.
  17. Secret Santa and Card Exchange Hooray!

    I feel that the gift I got for my recipient is pretty dope.
  18. Secret Santa and Card Exchange Hooray!

    Christmas just can't get here soon enough.
  19. The Birthday Thread!

    Happy Birthday Solyeuse!
  20. Many greets.

    Hey there, welcome back! What is/was your MOS?
  21. SCHOOL

    I remember participating in it. She asked the forum for a small quote on what S*T meant to us and I believe she used them in some sort of presentation detailing the community as a whole.
  22. I think I read somewhere that Marvel was in the process of trying to wrestle the rights to Spider-Man away from Sony for this purpose, but I doubt they'll be successful. That sucks, because a huge Marvel universe like this doesn't feel right without Peter Parker. Having Iron Man lead the pack is great at all, but the Webslinger isn't the world's most recognizable superhero for no reason.