「 ♔ * ・゚— PROPHET 」 writing dump
#31
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Fingers ghosted over the taut strings of the wood-plated guitar, discovered and taken from an abandoned shop. To be honest, it took Parks by surprise the moment she stumbled upon the instrument resting upon a pile of dust and rubble. As any other knickknack or anything else that brought some sort of entertainment in this shithole of a world, she would expect it to be torn to bits and strung out across the tiles of the shop, but, despite the minor cracks and scratches written upon its hard exterior, the condition was rather outstanding. How interesting. Her lips twisted into a quizzical line and she arches a single brow, sinking a sharp canine into the tender flesh of an already torn bottom lip as she begins to contemplate. She wasn't even sure if she could properly play one of these things anymore, let alone carry a decent tune. In fact, how many years have passed since she actually picked up a guitar? One or Two? Maybe more? Could she still remember the notes if she tried to wrack her brain for them? Parks supposed it wouldn't hurt to try, but what was the ultimate point in doing such? Nobody was around to listen, which would only mean the tune would fall onto Parks' deaf ears. Music didn't quite appeal to her now as it used to, despite her remarkable ability to play as praised by anyone who had been graced to hear it.

Green-grey hues close for a mere second as she inhales a small breath of air before releasing it. Whatever. She'd try this once, she guessed with a twinge of reluctance. Pulling up an empty, yet fairly sturdy box, strong enough the hold her weight, Parks sits, tucking the guitar into her chest as a calloused finger finally comes to pluck one of the strings, causing her to wince, an immediate reaction to the dissonant chord. That was to be expected, though still kinda cringe-inducing. Perhaps it needed a little tuning? That oughta do something, hopefully? Turning the pegs, Parks will continue to tweak and pick at the strings until a gentle wave of satisfaction and accomplishment washes over her like a stream over rocks as she, at last, finds the right melody. Fucking finally. She'd done it, and it actually sounded good. Subtly, her head begins to bob along with the tune, foot tapping against the ground in sync with the beat, ❝ [color=#9e8886]You've got it all... but you've got it all wrong. Now, you don't know you're a poor unfortunate soul, ❞ It wasn't before long she had found herself singing. Who knew she'd get lost in the very activity she claimed she no longer had interest in?
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#32
K we need a thread i miss u


discord; bambi#4386
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#33
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i'm sorry i've been neglecting u
lemme shoot you that pm brosef
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#34
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[align=center]quotes

"sometimes i don't know what to say or do because everything i say sounds like i'm reaching, and everything i do isn't good enough."

"i'm empty, yet full of chaos."

"i'll swallow my blood before i swallow my pride."

"the world demanded hate from her, so hate she gave."




"i am a savage, couldn't you tell? i warned you, i'm part heaven and equal parts of hell."

"do not make me love you. i am a riot, and i will ruin you in the process."

"i was so tired of being alone, but i was always alone, even with people around me. and i was so tired of being surrounded, but i was always surrounded, even when i was by myself. "
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#35
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'Jesus, it's like someones stepping on a cat here!' a familiar voice, one that Parks absolutely fucking hated with every thin fiber of her being, had ripped her out of her concentration, causing the blonde-haired woman to pull at the wrong chord which resulted in a sour note. She flinches at the sound, releasing the string. From the way her head whips around the face the voice with such speed, you ought to believe she'd pull a muscle, but being the hot-headed, easily-irritable asshole she was, she probably wouldn't have noticed. The vulgar tongue of Courtney's, dripping with blistering arrogance and razor-edge insults already begins to eat away at Parks' short fuse like rats to cheese. She could practically smell the jealousy radiating off of the other, and it fucking reeks.

Her jaw clenches and she sets the guitar down, white-shaded fists curling at her sides. It only took a mere glimpse, the meeting of green-grey shards to Courtney's own gaze, to send Parks fuming with hot rage. Why the fuck was she here? Why the fuck was she talking to her? With the short click of Parks' own tongue against the roof of her mouth, she stands to size-up the shorter woman, lips curled into an animalistic snarl. She was so fucking sick of having people push her around and talk to her any kind of way— so sick. In fact, Parks, today, hadn't done anything to provoke a reaction of some sort out of anyone. She was minding her own goddamn business for once, but yet, never was she allowed to catch a fucking break, was she? Didn't think so.

Holy fuckin' Christ. Do— Do you ever shut the fuck up? Like, ever?God, she's trying so hard to resist the temptations of driving her fist through Courtney's jaw, but it's a battle she's easily losing to. Her eyes, burning like that of the flames of the sun, only darken into a predacious glint one only could describe as sheer bloodlust. Parks had warned this woman the first time about watching her mouth, but she was dumb enough to continue poking the bear with a stick. Though, now that Charlie or anyone else weren't around to intervene, she'd finally show the other how sharp those teeth of hers really are when she bites back. Ain't no mercy to be given. None at all.

Did your parents not fuckin' love you enough or somethin'? Or is Kit not givin' you the time of day again? Is that why you're bitchin' at me? Because she won't let your sorry ass fuck her? How fuckin' sad are you? Be real. ❞ There's a momentary pause, hands beginning to shake as her eyebrows crease into a tight line. ❝ You've got to be fuckin' shittin' me here. You have the audacity to insult me, yet you can't even realize your own incompetence. You're chasin' after some dumb broad like a goddamn dog on a leash, and you actually believe that you have a chance with her? At least I have some sort of skill when it comes to the shit I do, but what are you good at? Absolutely fuckin' nothing besides at wasting oxygen. I bet the poor girl doesn't even like you. She's bein' nice to you because you give her no other choice but to pity you. I mean, you're not smart. Not in the slightest. And you're definitely not cute. I feel for her. I really do. Go piss your fuckin' pants.
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#36
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Dagger-like gaze immediately shoots to Kit. Parks no longer has her breath to waste on Courtney when she, the dumb blonde doormat, finally grew the stomach to pitch a fit of her own. In a way, it shocked Parks, or startled her, for the lack of a better term; seeing Kit flip out like that in contrast to her normal, bubbly and outgoing behavior, but the initial shock didn't stick around for too long, and quick to replace it was a wave of bitter amusement. Just who the hell did she think she was talking to like that? Certainly, not Parks. Was the girl so desperate enough to speak her mind that she'd risk losing a limb or two? How sad. It really was. Kit had no idea what Parks is capable of, yet somehow, just like Courtney, she continues to play with fire without expecting to get burned. ❝ What was that? Did you say something, doormat? ❞ her voice has dropped ominously low, words dripping from a poison-laced tongue. At this point, she's practically urging the other to continue on with her tirade about how she, out of both Courtney and Parks herself, was the most self-secure.

Eyes soon snap to face Charlie upon his arrival to which Parks flashes him an innocent grin, though there's a subtle glint of hostility peeking through her faux-smile. ❝ If you're lookin' for someone to pin the blame on, it ain't me. ❞ It was true. Parks wasn't to blame, even if she was quick to retaliate. After all, she was minding her own business. She didn't ask for this shit storm to happen. It just did, though she definitely wasn't going to sit around while both Courtney and Kit raked trash on her name. He should already know this by now. ❝ She's lyin' to you. She knows. In fact, me and Courtney were only having a little conversation. Nothin' new. But she, she had to come over and turn shit into a real problem. ❞ her head nods over in the direction of Kit as the tone of her voice remains threatening. ❝ Anyways. If you're really that pissed about it, I dare you to do somethin'. ❞ Parks wouldn't dare openly attack Kit while Charlie was standing right there. She wasn't that stupid. But, if Kit was really about it, which Parks didn't think she was, she wouldn't have any qualms about breaking a few of her bones if needed, though, she'd do that somewhere else.
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#37
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okay,, so i need something bad to happen to her before i can actually put her development thread into place, because if i do so before then, it'll seem like it just came out of the blue and virtually make no sense. then again, i want to go ahead and do it since i have everything written out, and i'm ready to explore her new personality as a less angry person. *sigh* i don't even know what it would be.
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#38
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i lied. parks is catching feelings and there is nothing she can do about it.
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#39
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Yesterday had to be one of the worst days in the history Parks' life, and that was saying something. Being trapped in a shack with Courtney drunk, crying, and clinging to her like a monkey, had thrown Parks into an awfully sour mood. What was worse, was that Courtney had kissed her. Courtney had kissed her and proceeded to call Parks 'hot'. Hell, the woman had even fallen asleep on her shoulder, much to Parks' dismay, and there was nothing she could do about it besides sit there like a tomato-faced fucking idiot. Everything was so fucking fucked because of her and her stupid drinking problem, and Parks wasn't about to let her get away with it, no. Just as she promised right as Courtney drifted off, Parks was going to beat the shit out of her for making her feel like this; whatever it was. She was going to beat the shit out of her, and Parks was going to feel better.

Sprinting through the seaside city as fast as her long legs can carry her, green-grey hues are constantly shifting back an forth between the streets in search for the familiar brunette woman who was also hilariously short. She wasn't hard to miss. She couldn't be. Parks needed to find her immediately and punch her right in her stupid fucking face. She had to or else that feeling would eat away at her insides forever and eventually kill her, and sure enough, Parks didn't want to die that way; going out sad, that is. It wasn't fitting for her. Not at all. ❝ Where the hell are you, you stupid asshole.. ❞ with quickened breaths and chest heaving for bouts of air, Parks quietly mumbles to herself, mind racing. Where could Courtney be at this hour? She had to be close, but where? Perhaps Kit knew of her whereabouts? The two seemed to be somewhat well-acquainted with each other, though, again, after their little dispute, it was absurd to think that the two would've just kissed and made up that easily, so she was out of the question. Goddammit.

Eyes widen as they finally locked onto the small physique of the woman, and her brows furrow into a tight line. Scowling, Parks immediately runs towards her, nearly tripping over her feet in the process; she's so desperate. ❝ You bitch! ❞ her arm reels back as soon as she closes in on Courtney, cheeks burning with intense heat. Suddenly, her first slices through the air, aiming to connect with the side of the woman's jaw, packing enough force to throw her off balance. ❝ I told you! I fuckin' told you I was gonna kick your dumb ass, you drunkard! ❞ She's pissed, flustered, and out of breath, knuckles throbbing from the impact of the hit. Crouching slightly, Parks then rests her hands on her knees, shooting Courtney a glare. ❝ I hate you.
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#40
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reminder!

finish the rest of parks' response to this thread asap.
also gotta type her response for the meeting.
maybe make an open thread.
make another playlist for her.
find more tropes.
re-make her development one-shot.
make some fucking icons.
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