“Why did you become a Guardian?”
The question, while innocuous, startles Irene. It’s a question she’s heard dozens of times before and the answer is always rather bland amongst all of the Guardians. There is the typical answers of wanting to protect the citizens or serve justice to the wrongs of the world. There is the thinly-veiled excuse of craving fame and fortune, or even craving the taste ...
“For the record,” Amara seethes through clenched teeth, ignoring the way her stomach rolls and her legs cramp, “I am blaming you for this.”
“Me?” Penelope squawks indignantly, fiery red hair swaying with her movements as she writhes and struggles against the thick rope wrapped tightly around her ankles. A thin sheen of sweat has bloomed over her brow, freckled cheeks distinctly red as she glares...
“Why are you staring at me?” Nora asks, a frown curling the ends of her pink lips as she wearily eyes Axel from the corner of her eye. “If you tell me that I have broccoli stuck between my teeth, I may chuck this remote at you.”
“Good thing it isn’t broccoli, then,” Axel jests lightly, barely managing to stifle a smile.
The frown painting her lips instantly vanishes, replaced with a hint of a gr...
“I think I just met the happiest person in the world!”
“That guy looks like he is about to pummel your face into the nearest trash can, Zayn,” Charles retorts tersely, staring incredulously towards his best friend as Zayn offers an lopsided grin, his shaggy mop of brown hair almost covering his eyes as they scurry away from the coffee shop and fuming barista.
“Yeah, with joy!” Zayn replies, c...
“Tate, earth to Tate, are you there?”
Tatum jolts back into reality, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear them and moisten her contacts which have steadily dried out. Carefully, she slides her eyes back to Ainsley, fingers twisting the a stray string of her hoodie, while Ainsley has half of a smile on her face, amusement twinkling in her dancing blue eyes.
“There she is. Where did you go, Tate?...
If Wren is honest, the afterlife isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. The mood is a little dead, you know? A lot of mourning and talking about the good old days when oxygen was a thing, which, okay, yeah. Oxygen was great and all, but Wren is quite favorable to being able to walk through walls whenever the mood strikes.
And haunting. She definitely loves haunting. Helps her feel alive and al...
Aria sighs, wrinkling her nose at the lingering stench of burning herbs and charcoal that clogs her nose. Puffing up her cheeks, she closes the heavy book, wincing at the answering groan from it’s ancient spine, and brushes away her bronze fringe as she glances around her living room littered with small animal bones, crystals, and herbs burning in a bowl, but low and behold, no “devil”.
Rolling ...
