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Messages - Beau

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1
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: The Boxer
« on: February 19, 2022, 06:22:39 am »
In his lifetime, Beau had seen a lot of ‘pissed off people’.  Sometimes he was the cause, sometimes he wasn’t.  The emotion was typically shown by a flushed face, clenched fist and aggressive stance; on rare occasions ice, rather than heat would dominate.  Beau wasn’t quite sure he would qualify the demenor of his seat companion as anger.  Exasperated, maybe?  Perplexed? She seemed somewhat in the middle of his hot and cold spectrum.  Myra on the other hand always seemed to flash and fire.

Ironically, his damsel in distress didn’t have that distracted look like most of the people in New York.  Eye contact, all be it fleeting.  It probably wouldn’t be hard to push things into the fight versus flight category.  He sensed there was a switch hidden here somewhere, so he kept his body still to keep from shifting any imaginary scale. 

He studied her hands and noted she was competent enough, pin prick aside.  Not that he would disagree with Myra out loud.  Time and physics would tell if the strap held.  Instead, he was left wondering at the sewing kit in her possession and if she was practical by nature.  The last time Beau had encountered such an item it had been courtesy of a fancy hotel, the type of thing that was found on the bathroom counter and examined with curiosity more than need.  For a moment he pictured her at the Four Seasons, pocketing the trinket for the future like so many women would.

But that image didn’t stick.  Angel was no trophy wife or suburban mother.  Beau couldn’t help the twitch of his lips as she mimicked his words to avoid a proper introduction.  If he had a hat, he likely would have tipped it.  Touché

He sat up a bit straighter, uncrossing his ankles to plant both feet on the ground.  He wasn’t the type to carry band-aids, although the slight clench of anxiety in his stomach muscles has nothing to do with how little he kept on his person.  New York at night wasn’t the best place to spill blood.  Even a drop could attract something undesirable in the right circumstances.  Myra’s reaction was only a hint of what could happen.

The train was slowing.  The station announcement of mumbled jibberish didn’t trigger a need to leave.  Most people rode the train for more than one stop, so he was hopeful he would have time to find out her vocation as Myra suggested.

Strangers in New York were often blunt.  Beau preferred to be more subtle. At the same time, being obvious was about all he could conjure at this hour. 

“And what job is that?”

In his experience if you offered something first, people would counter and give.  So, like the name he lead with some information about himself.  Maybe if she was curious she would stay seated long enough for the train to roll on.

“I’m in construction,” he said.  True in a way.  He built things.  Tore them down. His hands would have a look of one who does manual labor if she cared to look.

But labels were deceiving.

2
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: The Boxer
« on: February 11, 2022, 06:12:08 am »
He took the earpieces out one at a time, his movements slow and methodical.  But the precision did not ease the noise that buzzed in his head; a female voice, a bit harsh to the mind taken by surprise.  Beau chose not to look towards the window to catch the source of the snark.  Perhaps if he pretended he was deaf the annoyance would vanish?  Myra had been known to have bouts of spite and flirt off at the mildest affront.  He rolled one shoulder casually, like he wanted to shake off a devil whispering in his ear.

His eyes remained trained on the woman in the adjacent seat, even though she had no idea of the conversation in his head, or the questions, no matter how rhetorical.

“Your name wouldn’t happen to be Wendy?” he asked before the impulse could be squashed.  Beau did not consider himself Peter Pan, too many years and sad memories.  Myra, however, reminded him of Tinkerbell, even as she tried to appear grown and in control.  He had always thought Tinkerbell a jealous wench and thus his impulsive question.

His fellow passenger appeared flustered and uncomfortable.  Beau opened his mouth to remind the woman that she chose her seat, not the other way around, then he thought better of it.  His size tended to intimidate.  The woman already seemed too conscious of his presence even if she was avoiding his stare.  He could move his foot or grab the pencil stub near his shoe, and give it to her, but he figured they would probably bump heads.  Such was his skill with flirtation.

Perhaps she was here because he had something she needed?  His fingers brushed the safety pin that was holding together the tear in his coat pocket.  A second later and he would extract the same and bring it into view, held up to see by a ringless hand. 

“Would this help?”  It wasn’t much, but with some force the thin metal might be twisted to hold the purse string long enough to bring service back to the broken strap.  At this hour fashion was hardly the first consideration.  If she didn't want it, he would put it away without argument.

She was carrying enough junk.  No wonder the bag broke.  He’d managed a glimpse of papers, pencils, and items he suspected related to work rather than pleasure given her lack of care as they were stowed.  They might be art there, but he wasn’t close enough to see if there was any skill involved.  More likely an accountant who doodled, and pretended to be avant-guard.  The hair was a blatant attempt at a lifestyle, but the bruised face spoke of more care, then carefree.

Of course Myra was quick to remind on other considerations, opportunities or otherwise.  Beau did manage to hold back the long suffering sigh.  Contrary to popular opinion he didn’t consider himself a magnet.  On a good day the term hunter would serve.  True, occasionally prey would wander into the web but he didn’t use bait.  Skill.  Not luck.

OK.  Maybe some luck.  Bad luck mostly.

It was natural to look at the sable haired woman that was taunting him, rather than the blonde that seemed content to worry over her bag and belongings.  Manners dictate you look at who you were speaking to even if it was not voiced aloud.

Helpful.  As always.  A matching smirk was there in tone, even if he kept it off his face.  He considered adding that he wasn’t worried about Aldrich, but he hated to lie. 

He shifted his attention back to the woman in the seat across – the only one normal people would see.  The next train stop was in a forty-two seconds, but he couldn’t quite tell if she was planning to bolt.  And Myra had a point….

“People call me Beau,” he decided to say.  That was truth, and it made sense to lead with that considering he’d all but asked her name before. 

He knew her facial injury wasn’t fresh, but it paid to make conversation. Appear unintimidating, concerned.  Size could be used for advantage when you wanted to be viewed like a hero.  And if he had any chance of her staying in that seat for the three stops he needed to get to his own destination, he best adopt the mantle.

“I hope you aren’t heading home to whoever gave you that bruise.”

3
Freestyle Roleplay / The Boxer
« on: February 06, 2022, 01:03:35 am »
Midnight.  Sane people with money in their pockets didn't get on the New York subway at such an hour, but Beau could only lay claim to one of the two criteria.  It helped that his head was filled with classic rock tunes thanks to the headphones in his ears, and that his feet knew the path from the ticket gate to the track.  He kept his hands in pockets rather than touch the grime of the stair rail as he descended to the platform, eyes straight ahead.  Twenty-four stairs.  And an odd silent count of each, as his worn sneakers kept time with the music.

I am just a poor boy but my story's seldom told...I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises....

Beau didn't need to look around to know the number or type of people who joined him on the platform.  The three minutes passed in solitude as he waited for the D train.  There were two homeless men in the corner along with the persistent smell of urine - Beau considered them the regulars and they knew not to ask him for money.  To his left was couple dressed for dinner or a show, completing their evening. Eye contact could keep crime at bay, or invite conversation and honestly he wasn't much interested in either.  A fight might actually be amusing, at least, if it were evenly matched.   His six-foot-four frame, and wide shoulders, tended to narrow the potential brawl pool.  The slightly crooked nose due to two prior breaks tended to signal experience to the faint hearted.  God forbid that anyone ask 'how that happened'.

Desire had him turning his head and gazing longingly down the dark tracks.  The public address system said the train was approaching, but the white light seemed a bit far in the distance.  Just like home was far, and the apartment he was heading to devoid of warmth.

He flexed his fingers, buried deep in the pocket of his leather jacket.  The movement caused his palm to brush the tear in the fabric and the forgotten need to do some mending.   Not that he kept anything important he could lose in those pockets beyond loose change and his music playing phone.  No drivers license.  No cigarettes.

The push of air ruffled his dark hair as the train made its appearance.  Metal and glass.  Random graffiti announcing in yellow that someone named Zepher had recently painted here.   As the doors slid open, Beau waited for the well dressed couple to proceed him, only because he preferred to sit alone.  Opens were many, and he picked a bench that faced away from the direction the train would drive.  He took a seat as the train started and stretched out his legs, wishful thinking the action would deter anyone from encroaching on his space?

La la lie la lie.

The song he was listening to ended in taped applause.  The old concert was a favorite, taped in Central Park not far from where his train was about to go.   However, Beau wasn't eager to hear the tune a second time.  The familiar guitar strum hinted the song was looping.  He pulled his phone out and studied the screen.

All lies and gest, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest...

Of course it was only a melody, but the small shiver heightened his senses.  Its manifestation had Beau lifting his gaze away from his phone screen and to the seat across the aisle.  Four hundred stations to chose from.  Four trains each....and you pick this one.

4
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Re: Beau told me to
« on: February 05, 2022, 11:53:15 pm »
..this thread should always be the first one people see.  Just sayin...

5
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Re: Not Exactly New
« on: July 18, 2019, 05:40:26 am »
I think i'm going to haunt this place one a year FOREVER.   I just spent the last 3 hours re-reading stuff.

Love you and miss you all.  *random hugs all around*

6
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Re: Not Exactly New
« on: February 09, 2018, 12:11:19 am »
*leaves you all much love*

Embarrassed to say I dropped in a year ago, and promptly disappeared.   Time is...strange.

I've been thinking about you all.  Hope things are good in your universe.

Ara -- book in stores yet?  I wanna read.

7
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Re: Not Exactly New
« on: February 03, 2017, 09:41:06 pm »
I don't know -- do I need to strut?  I'm a little rusty.

Glad you're all still alive too.

8
Welcome Noobel Blewd! / Not Exactly New
« on: January 23, 2017, 10:54:02 pm »
But hey - I'm alive and wanted to say hello.

Been thinking of you all lately.  Happy New Year.

9
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Hogwarts & The Society of Teeth
« on: February 07, 2016, 09:16:16 pm »
It wasn’t uncommon for Nero to hit.  Benji had learned this last year, and he’d also learned to position himself far to the left and out of range when appearing as part of the entourage.  The elder Gryffindor insisted upon being surrounded by adoring fans.  Now that he was head boy, it was no different.  Benji understood that part of Prefect duty meant being seen – an expression of house solidarity – but everyone knew only one Gryffindor was in charge.

Not that it mattered.  One more year and Nero would be gone, replaced by someone else equally blinded by his own popularity.  In the meantime, Benji tried to keep a low profile and out of the way of the stick.  The stick was worse than the wand, hidden behind a smile, and used more often than the carrot.

Benji kept his expression carefully blank while Nero moved to keep the peace.  His eyes scanned the area looking for the potential source of entertainment, the reason why Nero had come.  Benji suspected he found it as Nero’s sister made quick work of her own departure from the bright star.

“I need to get to class,” Benji muttered, Demetria’s movements reminding him of his own schedule.  “Potions.” Hardly something to be excited over, but a necessary evil all the same.   At least it was a blended class, now that NEWTs were over.  He wouldn’t have to put up with as much house rivalry in the interest of science.

He started to drift towards the door.  Not so close to Demetria that it would appear he was following, not so fast as to be perceived as leaving without permission.  He adjusted the book bag on his shoulder, looked out the window and took a few more steps to the door.

Betsy should be around here somewhere…

The sixth year felt a bit like the White Rabbit, late for an important date, but still waiting on Alice, as he inched his way to the exit.


10
OOC Discussion / Re: HP thread! Interested?
« on: February 06, 2016, 08:29:52 pm »


Benjamin Kyle Wood
Benji
Sixth Year, Gryffindor Prefect, 16

The quieter, more thoughful of the twins, he plays Keeper for the Gryffindor team, and maintains a protective air about most things and people.  He has a love for both flaura and fauna - perhaps preferring them to the people around him - which explains why he sometimes slips out of the castle late at night when he should be patrolling.  The forbidden forest has almost as many secrets as Benji.

He's reluctant (if not afraid) to challenge the authority of the headboy.  Indeed he believes the rumors told.  He's secretly always admired Estelle.  One day he'd like to present her with a "cure" which could be the reason he spends so much time making notes and experimenting in the dark night.

(I do hope you all weren't waiting for me.  My posting prowess has not been much of late....)

11
Hype / Re: Publishing/Querying
« on: January 23, 2016, 07:21:53 pm »
Two pretty good articles:
http://accidentalwriter.net/2016/01/22/taking-ten-with-rena-olsen/

https://medium.com/@mirandabw/five-things-i-wish-i-d-known-five-months-before-i-published-my-first-novel-fe9cca7b9377#.tmwr1vw3k

I've been reading a certain agents twitter.  I was really hoping her Jan 10 tweet was about GW -
"Please send any and all manuscripts for which I can use Fatal Attraction and No Way Out as comps." - but i haven't heard from her so..yeah...hate this process.


For some reason I thought Jill would like this one in particular:
http://mentalfloss.com/us/go/73897

12
OOC Discussion / Re: HP thread! Interested?
« on: January 21, 2016, 03:47:40 pm »
Dare I even ask what a "bosom friend" is?


13
Don't wait for me.  Very sick.  I'll catch up if I can but I may just sleep for a week. 

14
The Player
Name: Beau Winters
Age: 30
Occupation: Strategic Planner for a Fortune 10 Company
Appearance: 5' 11", brown hair, blue eyes.
Personality: Too bright for his own good.  He has a strong sense of responsibility and will cover for the mistakes of others for the good of the department.  He'll work through the holidays so someone else can take vacation (he likes the quiet so there is something in it for him). Currently bored at work, and decided his long term relationship wasn't going anywhere either, so he broke up with his girlfriend right before Christmas.  This has given him some extra time to escape on-line.

The Adventurer
Username: Jordon
Race: Beast Person (fish/serpent/mere)
Class: Mage
Level: (1-100) 81 
Appearance: Fair hair, oversized blue eyes, his skin has a greenish tint and there are gills on his neck.
Gear: Some sort of body armor with a metallic hue.  Knife.  Pouch of magic stones and runes. Experienced with water spells.  (I'll update this later)
Personality: Scholarly.  Thoughtful.  Doesn't talk much - so there is an air of mystery.  Gets down to business, plays and leaves without saying goodbye.
Bio: Distance fighter and strategist.  Recruited because he "plays well" but doesn't clutter the game with chat about personal stuff.

15
We should start soon, or break will be over.....

16
If you need another body I could probably recycle past character and a mage/summoner for you -- assuming it doesn't step on any-ones toes.  Procrastinators unite!


17
Hype / Re: music: let's make some kick ass playlists.
« on: December 21, 2015, 08:25:15 pm »
Stumbled on a new artist while listening to a Billy Joel song.  I like her version, and some of her other stuff, so sharing.

Marianas Trench

18
Hype / Re: Halloween plans?
« on: October 27, 2015, 04:29:26 pm »
++++See the avatar.  Bask in its amazing halloweenness...


Yeah, that's about it.

And eating...I mean giving out...candy

I love the idea of trunk and treat.  Love it!

19
Hype / Re: I need a hug
« on: October 27, 2015, 04:17:11 pm »
You can borrow my trebuchet when it gets built, and lob earthworm-cream pies at said editor.

What is a trebucket?  At first I thought catapult but if it only holds something the size of a pie it may not serve my purpose.

Quote from: ara

O.O You... You have another book!?

Yes.  Two actually.  One I wrote with Shadow (called Perfect Crime) and one I re-crafted from a romance RP circa 2004 (called Homecoming).  Neither is as polished as GW, but I'm tempted to write another genre since I obviously can't write mystery.

*continues pity party because I can*

20
Hype / Re: I need a hug
« on: October 27, 2015, 01:28:59 am »
Yeah, he must be stupid, because my name was on each of my emails and every page of the manuscript.  It was a common misspelling, but yeah, if he can't even get that right....

The bad guy doesn't want Hale dead - that's the point! At least I didn't get the "add some sex to it" suggestion.  I was waiting for that since he prefers "guy fiction" what-ever that is.

Thanks.

*eats cake with mintchip icecream*

On the bright side I did discover an agent yesterday who used to own a minor league baseball team.  If that isn't kismet I don't know what is.   Hopefully he'll read my stuff and be intrigued.  And if not I'll pull out that old romance novel and sell out to Harlequin

21
Hype / Re: I need a hug
« on: October 26, 2015, 11:27:11 pm »
I need cake too....

So, after 12 emails/which included a minor manuscript revision, I got this today from a prospective agent:

Dear (my real name, but misspelled as usual):  I am as sorry to say as you will likely be to hear it - but I'm afraid this won't work for us. About 3/4 the way through this version I stopped making specific notes because (and this is my main issue) the revenge plot just seemed to be so unnecessarily complicated and elaborate. I started saying to myself - "For God's sake, just get a gun and shoot him."


But since you write so very well, others might feel differently, so please don't take my response as the final word.


It's probably for the best.  If he didn't get why it's so complicated (because the reader is supposed to think Hale is crazy and talking to himself) then he probably didn't really get the jist of the novel, let alone the ending.  The bad guy wins "for god sake".

--- still sad and depressing though.  I don't like this process much.


22
Hype / Re: If
« on: October 25, 2015, 06:58:43 pm »
If you'd allowed mythical I would have picked dragon.

But, if it has to be real then I'd go very mundane.  House cat.  Sleep 22 hours/day.  No chores.

23
Fantasy Roleplay / Re: Falling Shadows [Closed]
« on: October 24, 2015, 06:24:31 pm »


"Ora." A beat.  "But that's not your name."  He blinked and wondered over it as the words spilled from his mouth.  Something else not yet revealed like the veil she wore.  "Hum.  Perhaps that is wise.  Names hold power."

The pending question on his lips was held silent as Ollie came barging back in.  Shen lifted a brow over the antics, then moved to help right the cot in the intended place.  The man's reaction to the atmosphere confirmed Shen's own perception of the banked hostility.  Nervousness he understood, one should be cautious with the unfamiliar. But he wasn't used to the clandestine - people tended to be too open with him.  And yet while that was often a source of trouble, he found he preferred it to the new circumstances.

Ollie grabbed his hat and offered instructions.  Shen took a look around and decided perhaps that his presence wasn't welcome after all.  His words about gratitude seemed to have fallen on deaf ears even though her hearing was good.

He raised his voice.  "I'll come and help you," a call to the parting back of the host.

Shen turned back to the woman.  "I can help you as well, but you'll have to ask." And you will when the time comes.  "For the record I wasn't traveling with the wolf, although I will admit that Bowan led me to you.  She seemed to think I needed to find you."  A pause, and step to the door.  "And you are correct.  Pity is not what I'm feeling."

With that he took his leave.  He waved to Gail in the kitchen and went to the door after Ollie.  Fires and forest didn't tend to go well together. He wanted to be sure that this, at least, didn't get out of control.
 

24
Fantasy Roleplay / Re: Falling Shadows [Closed]
« on: October 24, 2015, 03:48:05 am »


She was blind.  He didn't realize it at first, distracted by her witty retort over the luggage handle. The smile on his face flickered a little as he considered this new wrinkle.  Maybe that's why the lady of the house thought he might not want to sleep inside, his expression a bit less than enthusiastic.    Surely, no one knew who he was. 

"Mighty kind of you to offer," he said without committing to cot or hammock.  He offered a small bow in deference to the festival.  "I do enjoy a good party. And one should always give thanks to the gods."  The smile returned like he told a joke.  The twinkle in his eyes elicited a return smile from the lady of he house as she went off to her pies.  "Pies, music and dancing.  What more could one ask for?"

His  companion didn't seem emamored by an eve of revelry.  Shen watched her reluctance as the luggage was taken away.  "I'm honored by their hospitality."   He glanced at the humble surroundings.  "Such blessings are often returned."   

Did she think the same?   "Pity that misfortune befell you."  He took stock of her appearance. "Wolves can be vicious if provoked."  His tone implying she might have done something to spur the attack although he knew it wasn't true. 

The were alone now. He started to shadow her as she roamed about the room. "Why were you so far from the road?"

Then he snapped his fingers. "So sorry.  Where are my manners. They call me Shen. And you are?"

25
Hype / Re: Publishing/Querying
« on: October 16, 2015, 09:43:34 pm »
Well deserved!  Once the title and release date are finalized you need to let us know so we can be first in line.

26
Hype / Re: I need a hug
« on: October 12, 2015, 07:02:03 pm »
So sorry to hear this Krystal.  I've been in flux with my job for several months so I know a bit about what you are going through.  It's hard to think these things happen for a reason, but I'd lose all hope if I thought otherwise.

 :latte:

27
Hype / Re: If
« on: October 10, 2015, 08:16:01 pm »
The enterprise with a holodeck and a food synthesizer.  Magic wand - beat that!

28
Hype / Re: If
« on: October 10, 2015, 05:44:43 pm »

What fictional object would you like to posess?

I'd take pretty much anything created by H.G. Wells --- specifically the nautilus or the time machine

Or, thinking bigger, I'd like my own personal Enterprise.

29
Hype / Re: If
« on: October 09, 2015, 11:01:41 pm »
If you could live in a fictional world, not of your own creation, which world would it be and why?

I looked at my bookshelf, but I have mostly contemporary fiction and what I would label as "one shots" not exactly fantasy or sci-fi series stuff.  So its hard to say there is a world out there that I lust for beyond this one.

The only "fan fiction" I've really written is Battlestar Gallactica, Harry Potter and X-1999.  So, I could be Starbuck, or Sorata.  Being a student at Hogwartz would be cool - but all the adults in the wizarding world have serious issues, so I'm not sure I'd really want to live there long term.

(edit) -- I went to my son's bookshelf.   I could totally do Percy Jackson's world and be a demi-god. I'd have to think on parentage though, but that would sort of be cool to be questing all the time...

If you could be any fictional character, which character would you choose? No, you can not pick one you've made or one that has been made specifically for you.

Indiana Jones

or Rick from Casablanca, or Sam Spade --- I like Bogart.  He's a survivor, great come-back dialogue and snazzy dresser.


30
Fantasy Roleplay / Re: Falling Shadows [Closed]
« on: October 03, 2015, 10:50:05 pm »
The people here lived simply.  He liked that.  Shen never really understood why people wanted so many things when nature could provide what they needed.  Here he sensed a core set of values based more on fortune and fate, rather than opportunity.

It didn’t surprise him that he was easily accepted into the village.  Rarely did people shun Shen’s smile and obvious friendly demeanor.  The curve of his lips came naturally, rather than cultivated.  Bowan had made this all too easy.  Everyone loved a hero, even if they were covered with fur.

Good thing.  He glanced up at the sky and noted the time.  The moon would be full tonight.

Long strides took him towards a house in the center of the village.  Humble, but obviously the home of someone important given its size and the location near the water.  Bowan had further served him by picking well, although he doubted she would have admitted to any calculation.  He hadn’t been lying when he mentioned she favored the ‘young ones’.

His fingers gently stroked her ear as he kept pace with the group.  The mother and boy had rushed ahead.  Already he could hear the hurried explanation to the woman standing in the door.  Family member? Guest?  All too soon the woman and boy moved further inside, leaving Shen with the other man, and the obligation to display his luggage carrying prowess to the woman with the veil who remained in the doorway.  He refused to admit he found it disconcerting that he could not see her face.  He didn’t need the gentle nudge from Bowan to advise that he’d found the victim from the night before.  His astute senses caught a hint of magic, although he suspected it was more an ability to manipulate the flow than anything one would label as casting.

“Hello,” he offered, deliberately choosing not to reveal his name or identity.  “No walking stick, but the bag, coat and bedroll are here.”  Shen bent his elbows to lift the burden a bit higher in an awkward wave.  He found it curious that she was completely covered.  What would she need the coat for? 

“The bone handle is rather curious.  Caught my eye.  What sort of animal is it?”

He stopped just short of offering to make her another walking stick to fill in the gap.  He wasn’t quite sure where the urge came from and that further stilled his tongue.

Bowan let out a low growl.  Her nose lifted to sniff the air and her tail swished.  Shen offered a small tweak to her ear, but that wasn’t enough to calm her.  The wolf sprinted off into the woods, in the direction from which they came. 

For the first time, Shen’s smile faded.  “She’ll be back,” he said, but whether the thought was to explain, or offer himself some confidence in the fact, it was difficult to tell.


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