Finding Purpose

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Happy Monday!

So my posting has been sporadic again. I really am trying to post every day, but that proves harder and harder the more I try. On the bright side, I have been working on A Vampire’s Bride outside of here. I’m trying a new approach! Rather than try to type out the story from the start, I’m writing it by hand. This way I don’t have to be in front of a computer screen all the time. So far so good, so we’ll see how it goes.

Today’s prompt comes from Let Me Help You Write on Tumblr and will go toward Provisional Freedom‘s word count!

Enjoy!

CW: Assault, violence, and some language.

~~~

Although Marcus said I’m still welcome at the house, I’ve been trying not to rely on him and Videl as much. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, and to be honest, knowing what I know now, it makes me uncomfortable to be there. So that’s how I now find myself wandering around on my own, one of the few times Max’s attention is elsewhere. They don’t usually tell me where they go when they’re not with me, but on this particular occasion they mentioned something about having to check on another charge.

The city at night is a completely different beast. Urban exploration was never my thing, but now that I have all this time to kill, I’ve had to get creative with my past times. It never occurred to me that I might not be the only one out at three in the morning. Turns out, the night life is much more active than I anticipated. Still, even if I’d expected this level of activity, nothing could have prepared me for an attempted mugging. Not against me, mind you.

The victims in question are a couple of women, probably a few years older than me. Going by their clothes and smudged makeup, they were likely headed home from a night of dancing and general fun, until some asshole in a mask decided they made easy targets. Scared, and probably still a little drunk, they’re incoherent but it’s obvious they’re scared out of their minds. One of them shakily tries to hand over her bag. When the asshole doesn’t take the bag and instead tries to approach them, gun in hand, I have a whole new understanding of what’s happening.

My blood boils, and before I know it, I’m walking over.

“Excuse me, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I’m sure I’m the farthest thing from an imposing figure, but my words make the man stop anyway. The mask doesn’t hide his eyes, and I can see a momentary lapse of fear and confusion. And then he realizes he’s talking to a girl who’s five-foot-nothing.

“Stay back! I have a gun.” He points it at me.

“Oh, what, are you going to shoot me?” Behind him, the women are on the ground, shaking.

“You sound awfully sarcastic for a person with a gun pointed at them.”

“Well what can I say? You don’t scare me.” I shrug, keeping my eye on the women. As I keep the man’s attention, I motion for them to get out of his reach. Though they’re both scared out of their wits, one of them manages to pull the other up before running together behind a dumpster. I’m so focused on them, I almost don’t hear the gunshot.

I’ve never been shot before, so I’m not sure what I expected. It’s not painless, per say, but doesn’t hurt nearly as much as a gunshot should. When I look down, there’s a hole in my sweater, but no blood. “This is my favorite hoodie, asshole!”

He fires again, making yet another hole. At this point, I don’t even bother sitting still. Walking toward him, I clench my fists, ready to knock his teeth down his throat. He empties his gun, and in a desperate play to get me to stop, he throws it at me. I almost laugh before my foot meets his groin. When he doubles over, I back hand him, his blood spraying the concrete.

I didn’t realize how much I’d pent up my anger and frustrations until I started wailing on him. When I stop, it’s only because Max shows up.

“I think that’s enough, Paola.”

“Bastard deserves to die.” But I do as they say and stop, taking two steps back to admire my handiwork. He’s trembling, muttering something about how sorry he is.

“Be that as it may, you don’t need his blood on your hands.”

“Ha! Too late.” My knuckles drip with it. I look over at Max as they kneel down by the women. I let them handle it, considering I’m probably a bit more terrifying than the man with the gun had been. I watch a Max places a hand over their foreheads, and both faint into their arms. “What are you doing?”

“Wiping their memories and taking them home. We don’t need rumors about a bullet proof girl running around. Stay here, I’ll be right back to deal with him.” And with that, they’re gone. As much as I don’t feel like sitting around, I stay.

When Max returns, it’s with reprimands at the ready. “That was reckless.”

“As reckless as pulling a tainted soul from Purgatory?” I wipe my hands on my ruined hoodie.

“Paola…”

“What? At least I helped someone. Would it have been better to let it happen?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing. I helped those women, and I felt good doing it. Maybe I should do it more often. Put this immortality to good use. Punish scum like him.”

“What you should do is get some sleep. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” Their words had a tone of finality, and I was tired of arguing with them anyway.

“Fine.”

~~~

Paola, vigilante extraordinaire? Maybe!

As always, think happy thoughts!

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Intimidation

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Sup!

Didn’t think I’d get a post up, but here we are 🙂

Today’s inspiration comes from Plots and Prompts for All.

Prompt: “If I wanted you dead, this room would be a lot quieter.”


Standing at exactly five feet and two inches, I’ve never thought of myself as particularly intimidating. No one has ever cowered before me, shaken in their boots at the sight of me. That is, until now. I guess it helps to have a gun.

“Are you going to kill me?” He tries to maintain eye contact but his eyes won’t stop flicking to the gun. It’s the fifth time in as many minutes that he’s asked me that.

“If I wanted you dead, this room would be a lot quieter.” Grabbing him by the shoulder (no small feat, considering the foot he has on me) I pull him into the chair. “Now shut up. I’m the one asking questions.”

To be honest, I’m surprised I’ve made it this far. My bravado is holding up better than I thought, and going by the apprehension in his eyes, I’m doing a good job of hiding how worried I am. How terrified. I’ve never killed anyone before – I don’t want to start now. He relaxes in his chair, comforted by the thought that I don’t want to kill him. “Ask away.”

“What do you know about the Flamel Project?” Even saying the words out loud makes my stomach turn.

“Enough to know that you’ll die if they find out you’re snooping.” It isn’t technically snooping if my family runs the project, if I was once supposed to carry that legacy. But I don’t tell him that.

“You let me worry about that. I need to know what phase it’s in. Have they started human trials yet?” As one of the scientists on the project, he should be privy to that kind of information. My suspicion is confirmed when his eyes finally look somewhere other than mine or at the gun. Despite the resolve in his jaw to keep his mouth shut, a flicker of doubt – and shame? – passes through his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I struggle to hold back overwhelming horror. It helps that I’ve concealed my face with a scarf and glasses. Still, it’s not long before my hand begins to shake. In an effort to keep him from noticing, I lower the gun.

With a sigh, I continue. “I don’t know how they convinced you to participate, but know that – whatever it is – it isn’t worth it.”

Holstering the gun, I turn to leave. There’s no point in continuing the conversation, I have what I need.

“What are you going to do?” I don’t expect him to call out to me. When I turn back, there’s a hint of hope in his eyes.

“Whatever I can to stop it.” Before I can leave the room, he speaks again.

“Let me help you.”


This is bits of a story that has been sitting on the back burner for literal years. It’s probably not going anywhere, but the prompt fit. And it helped me reach my goal for today.

As always, think happy thoughts!

#ThursThreads – Increased Security

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Hello again!

Even as I write this I have no idea how I’m going to incorporate this prompt into one of my serials. Today’s #ThursThreads prompt is throwing me off, so here’s hoping for the best.

Prompt: “It meant increased security.”

Happy reading!

~~~

“Are you going to say something or just sit there watching me like a creep?” I couldn’t help the words tumbling from my mouth, but they were making me uncomfortable.

Max raised a thin eyebrow in response, a smirk lighting their expression before they waved a hand and turned off my TV, simultaneously flicking on the lights. I had to shield my eyes from the sudden change, ducking my head into my arms.

“That’s much better.”

“I was starting to think you’re not real.” Images of the angel standing around my hospital room, taking me from my mother in purgatory, already felt like long-forgotten dreams.

“Sorry – it’s not every day we let a soul out of purgatory. It meant increased security and delayed me longer than I anticipated. I could only drop by to check on you before having to run back and make sure the gap we used sealed properly and held up against opportunistic spirits looking for a way out.” They looked tired just thinking about it, running a hand through their hair while walking back and forth across the room.

“Speaking of my release, are you ever going to actually tell me why I’m here?” A part of me wanted to ask if they might know what led to me dying in the first place, but I stopped myself. It’s not like it mattered anyway. “And what abilities am I supposed to have, exactly?”

“I can already tell it’s going to be a joy working with you.”

~~~

Maybe next week Paola will get some answers! Be sure to check out the rest of the responses at the prompt link throughout the day – there’s always great stuff to read.

As always, think happy thoughts!

UPDATE: I won with this one! Woo!

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Demonic run-on

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Hello!

First post of the day, but it’ll be a short one! I’m kicking myself because I missed out on last week’s #100wordchallenge. However, I’m going to participate this week and incorporate last week’s prompt into today’s response. It works out, too, because last week’s prompt, Demon, is more theme-based. This week’s prompt is to write a 100 word run-on, so hooray for playing with format!

Here goes nothing!

~~~

Max sits in the dark with me, quiet, observant (expectant?) and though we’re both lit by the light of the TV, it makes them look ethereal, every bit an angel, or even a demon, asking of me what may be an impossible task I don’t yet understand – but I do know that, whatever they want from me, whatever the reason they had for making my mother replace me in purgatory, I’m not going to like it – at all – and I’m going to regret agreeing to it for the rest of my life, however long that may or may not be.

~~~

I’ve never worked this hard to write a run-on sentence. It was fun! Plus, it gave me the perfect breather before picking up Provisional Freedom again.

Stay tuned for #ThursThreads later!

As always, think happy thoughts!

#ThursThreads – Ready

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Happy Thursday!

Hope everyone’s week has been going well. Surprisingly enough, the writing continues! I’ve even gotten some reading done. Hooray!

Today’s post comes courtesy of ThursThreads. I was hoping to use the prompt to move forward with Ariella, but it was not meant to be.

Ptompt: I was ready.

CW: mentions of suicide

~~~

After a day, I was ready to be released from the hospital, desperate to get as far from that place as possible.

Max made themselves scarce during the time I spent with my dad, giving me little to focus on to distract from the sadness in my father’s eyes or the aid assigned to watch me. Then again, being hyper-aware of Max and the fact that I’d just come back from purgatory after apparently attempting suicide wasn’t a comforting alternative.

To be honest, I couldn’t remember much about what happened – only that I definitely wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was my word against what everyone saw, though. That meant being under watch until someone deemed me well enough to be sent home. I did my best to act normal, or as normal as I could given the circumstances. Max popping in now and again made that difficult and only reminded me of how messed up everything was. I couldn’t even ask the angel questions with my dad and the aid watching.

I lost count of the days it took to release me, but they eventually did. Unfortunately for me, being home wasn’t nearly as comforting as I would have hoped. When it came time to sleep in my own bed, I couldn’t bring myself to. My dad didn’t protest when I set up camp in the living room.

Nearly falling asleep to late night cartoons, I practically jumped out of my skin at Max popping up beside the TV.

~~~

Forever wondering where this is going.

Be sure to check out the rest of the responses – there’s always good stuff out there to read.

As always, think happy thoughts!

#ThursThreads – Last Time

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Happy Thursday!

Didn’t think I’d get a post up today, but here we are! This week has flown by, too. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, but here’s to the weekend only being a day away!

Today’s prompt, as usual, comes from #ThursThreads. This will be another peek into Paola’s world. She’s much darker – theme-wise – than anyone else. At least, I think so. Not sure how I feel about that. Here’s hoping I can bring her some small moments of happiness, at least, with her resurrection.

Prompt: “That was the last time.”

Enjoy!

CW: Implied suicide.

~~~

When I come to, it’s to the sound of rushed orders and a high beeeeep mingling with the voices. My eyes are still closed, but I can feel the frantic movement in the room begin to slow.

“There’s nothing more we can do. She’s gone.”

At the voice, I open my eyes, coughing as I struggle to speak. “N-No.”

The room gasps, and everyone’s eyes widen at the sight of me. Behind me, the heart monitor is still showing that I’m dead. I will myself to move, eyes frantically searching the room for Max. Where are they? As if responding to my thoughts, they appear next to me and glance at the machine. No one else sees them, but I follow their gaze as the machine picks back up again, soft beeps marking what should be my heartbeat. I still don’t feel it.

Everything is a blur – it’s a miracle, they say – and I’m eventually whisked off to a private room after they’ve verified that I’m okay – whatever that is.

“I thought that was the last time I’d see you.” My dad’s voice, worn and tired, brings me out of my jumbled thoughts. I’m not really paying attention, but I’m sure he’s been talking for a while now. “I’m really worried about you, Paola. Those pills…”

“It was an accident. I didn’t – didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention to the dosage – picked up the wrong bottle. I’m sorry.” My eyes are glued to Max, hovering unseen beside my dad.

~~~

What does Max have in store for Paola, and will she be joining our favorite demons in some witch-hunting shenanigans? Only time will tell because I still have zero clue about where this is going. Ha! Story of my life.

As always, think happy thoughts!

Still processing Cursed Child feelings…

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Image from pottermore.com

Hello!

So I meant to get a post up yesterday but things got busy and then when I finally had some free time/motivation, my copy of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child finally decided to show up. Of course I dropped everything. I have so many feelings. Too many to really put in words but I’m going to try.

I guess here’s my review/recap/thoughts of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Fair warning, I can’t really fully process/review this without spoilers, so SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

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