Just Aidan Turner walking
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@indiestarter
Mitchell ground his teeth together, hands tapping one pocket after the other in search of the pack of cigarettes he was sure he'd taken with him when leaving his apartment that morning. There he was, on his way to work and his pockets were empty. Unless five quids was in any way a valuable drug for him since no store was even open yet.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me.."
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( ooc. )
The blog’s still lowkey under construction but it’s getting there. There’s enough of the basics in place that I can actually open everything up, while I still work on things like rewriting his bio because it was a goddamn mess. So anyway, hey hi hello, the blog and my inbox and all the like are open for plotting!
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( ooc. )
Don’t mind me, just casually strolling here after five a few years to dust off this blog. I’ve started clearing things out and will continue to do so for a lil’ while (a lot of updating to do in terms of info and graphics and everything), but after that it’s time to drag Mitchell out of retirement.
So if anyone’s still following, hi, I’m back with my bullshit and this curly trash puppy. Whether you’re an old friend or a new acquaintance, if you’re interested in writing something, feel free to hit me up already, I’m all ears!
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sanguisfulgur :
“If that’s your idea of a short trip I’d hate to know your definition of a long one. Never even sent a postcard.”
“A postcard -- what are you, my great aunt Muriel? You must’ve really missed me.”
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sanguisfulgur :
“Close e-bloody-nough I’d say! Where the hell have you been lurking?”
“You know me -- I move and shake. Might’ve taken a short trip to London and.. Well, a few other places.”
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“You honestly look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
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roncnslynch:
I’d forgotten what they were like, the others. They’re predators. Every inch of them is just hunger and fury. The energy it must take him every minute not to be like that…
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sociallyakwardvampire :
Hal almost cringed at the idea. He was sure there wasnt even an empty cup. He could see other things that were bugging him as well. Mitchell seemed yo not care, Hal could see that.
“And I’m the one from the 15th Century.” He pulled out a box of matches and started putting them the right way around.
“Maybe old age is what’s stuck that stick so far up your arse,” Mitchell said, his brows rising in tune with the corners of his mouth as he went to the sink and dug out a cup that he then proceeded to rinse under the tap. “Haven’t they proved that too much cleanliness will kill you? Not that it would really apply here, but -- food for thought.”
The place is a mess/welcome starter
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sociallyakwardvampire :
“This place is a mess, How can you live like this,?” Hal said seeing the clothes lying around and the state of the house. “And whens the last time anybody did dishes?” It was annoying him. He liked things clean and couldn’t help it. He was pacing a bit. He wanted to fix it. Such tasks normally kept his mind off the bloodlust anyway.
deadfurniture
Mitchell took in the somewhat pained look Hal was scurrying around with, while still trying to keep his own face straight -- which was proving to be harder than he’d initially thought. “It’s not that bad,” he said with a slight shrug. “And we tend to go with ‘clean the bowl when you need the bowl’ sort of thing here.”
The place is a mess/welcome starter
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aseaofquotes:
Lois Lowry, The Giver
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