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    AvatarGoodBoy Jchrist
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    Episode 42

    “BONUS Episode #2″

    Q&A with Biscuit in the comments

    Xavier P. O. V

    I see the flames rage,
    In the depths of your ivy eyes.
    I’d watch your soul age
    Lost in your little lies.
    A sea of ice in the void
    Where your heart once was.
    Any love you avoid
    You leave before you get lost
    You melt in my embrace,
    Felt the warmth of my touch.
    Teach me your hunger
    I’ll show you desire.
    So scarred as you are,
    Walk with me, angel divine.
    I’ve fallen oh, so far –
    You own me, but you are mine.
    When I fix your wings,
    I know you’ll fly away.
    Your light will consume me,
    And I’ll perish within my darkness.
    But I care not for the ashes
    That come after the flames.
    I’m glad for you showed me the stars
    In the eternal midnight of my past.

    Victoria P. O. V

    Shortcakes are red,
    Biscuits aren’t blue.
    I don’t do sappy poetry,
    Great, now I’m hungry.
    Just don’t get any pizza for me.
    You’re already real cheesy.

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    #1412081 Reply
    AvatarGoodBoy Jchrist
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    Episode 43

    “Diaries of a wimpy Shortcake”

    Written by Jchrist (African Good Boy]

    __________________________________________
    Xavier P. O. V

    Half a bottle of Ambien, six Coronas, two cigars and you’re still talking philosophy like you’re Nietzsche and Newton’s love child.
    My mind wasn’t doing a great job at shutting up. I probably needed toothpicks to keep my eyes open, yet I couldn’t fall asleep.
    Rain fell in sheets against the window panes, lightning flashing against the dark void outside. Thunder quickly followed, the smell of fresh, moist earth surrounding me like a warm blanket.
    I could’ve thought about Daniel’s brother. About Darius. About anything at all, that was borderline important.
    Instead I was thinking about the pressing question of why dogs chased their own tails.
    Because restlessness was bad.
    But making sleep deprived half ässed conclusions was outright retarded.
    So it was as I was lying in my bed having an internal monologue about dog butts that I heard a knock.
    I got up and hastily tugged on a pair of black pants before I got the door.
    A very wide eyed Shortcake stood there with a pillow, her lips pouty and her hair all messed up.
    She also happened to be wearing something frilly, pink and feminine which I could only assume was Marcus’s efforts at providing her night clothes.
    About time that guy got a raise.
    “Sup, Barbie?”
    “Not much, Karate Kid.” She shot back, eyeing my pants.
    I didn’t miss her also checking out my very shirtless chest.
    “Objectifying innocent men.” I tsked, leaning against the frame. “I’m super offended.”
    “I’ve offended the Sith Lord of dirty talk.” She muttered, rolling her eyes. “I should be proud.”
    “No, you should be worried. ” I said, meaning it. “He’s kinda turned on even though you look like Dora the Explorer right now.”
    She blushed. “You’re weird.”
    “And you’re not?” I arched a brow, looking at the pillow she’d abusively dragged from her room.
    “Nope.” She fired back. “Perfectly functional adult member of society -”
    Lightning struck outside and she jumped, strangling that poor pillow till her knuckles went white. It was only a few seconds later after the thunder subsided that she calmed down.
    Victoria looked at me sheepishly.
    “Is the tiger cub scared of a little cloud action?”
    She shrugged, putting on a huge show of how it was no big deal.
    Another rumble from the skies and Victoria was shuddering so violently, I actually felt bad for teasing her.
    “Would you like to sleep with me?”
    “Yes.” She answered promptly, then realised what she’d said. She blushed. “No. Well, I mean sleep somewhere in your room.”

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    #1412083 Reply
    AvatarGoodBoy Jchrist
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    Episode 43

    “Diaries of a wimpy Shortcake”

    Written by Jchrist (African Good Boy]

    __________________________________________
    Xavier P. O. V

    Half a bottle of Ambien, six Coronas, two cigars and you’re still talking philosophy like you’re Nietzsche and Newton’s love child.
    My mind wasn’t doing a great job at shutting up. I probably needed toothpicks to keep my eyes open, yet I couldn’t fall asleep.
    Rain fell in sheets against the window panes, lightning flashing against the dark void outside. Thunder quickly followed, the smell of fresh, moist earth surrounding me like a warm blanket.
    I could’ve thought about Daniel’s brother. About Darius. About anything at all, that was borderline important.
    Instead I was thinking about the pressing question of why dogs chased their own tails.
    Because restlessness was bad.
    But making sleep deprived half ässed conclusions was outright retarded.
    So it was as I was lying in my bed having an internal monologue about dog butts that I heard a knock.
    I got up and hastily tugged on a pair of black pants before I got the door.
    A very wide eyed Shortcake stood there with a pillow, her lips pouty and her hair all messed up.
    She also happened to be wearing something frilly, pink and feminine which I could only assume was Marcus’s efforts at providing her night clothes.
    About time that guy got a raise.
    “Sup, Barbie?”
    “Not much, Karate Kid.” She shot back, eyeing my pants.
    I didn’t miss her also checking out my very shirtless chest.
    “Objectifying innocent men.” I tsked, leaning against the frame. “I’m super offended.”
    “I’ve offended the Sith Lord of dirty talk.” She muttered, rolling her eyes. “I should be proud.”
    “No, you should be worried. ” I said, meaning it. “He’s kinda turned on even though you look like Dora the Explorer right now.”
    She blushed. “You’re weird.”
    “And you’re not?” I arched a brow, looking at the pillow she’d abusively dragged from her room.
    “Nope.” She fired back. “Perfectly functional adult member of society -”
    Lightning struck outside and she jumped, strangling that poor pillow till her knuckles went white. It was only a few seconds later after the thunder subsided that she calmed down.
    Victoria looked at me sheepishly.
    “Is the tiger cub scared of a little cloud action?”
    She shrugged, putting on a huge show of how it was no big deal.
    Another rumble from the skies and Victoria was shuddering so violently, I actually felt bad for teasing her.
    “Would you like to sleep with me?”
    “Yes.” She answered promptly, then realised what she’d said. She blushed. “No. Well, I mean sleep somewhere in your room.”

    I smiled, letting her inside.
    “I can sleep on the couch.”
    She mentally sized up my height and the length of the furniture. “No. I’ll sleep there.”
    I arched a brow. “Some would say you care for my comfort, shortcake.”
    “Of course not, moron.” She shot back, annoyed. “I’m being selfish. Go sleep on your giant äss bed so I feel less like a wimp.”
    “Don’t worry, champ.” I ruffled her hair as she settled in. “You’d make an adorable wimp.”
    She blushed. “Shut up.”
    With Victoria here, I’d had slightly better luck sleeping, but I woke up a little past midnight since I was freezing. I got off the bed to offer her a blanket –
    The couch was empty.
    “Victoria?” I called out, feeling slow panic. The storm was still raging outside and there was no way she was hunky dory.
    I was about to pick apart the whole house when I heard a small whimper.
    From my closet.
    Oh dear Lord.
    Victoria was curled into a nice little ball of fear on the lower shelf, asleep but shaking with nightmares. Her muscles were rigid, her eyes clenched shut and her lips parted in a silent scream.
    I swore softly, realising this was how this kid probably solved all her problems.
    Alone in the dark, hiding away from the rest of the world.
    Gee, I wonder who that reminds me of.
    I picked her up gently and carried her to my bed, and it hit me that there was a good chance she hadn’t told anybody about this.
    If I fücked this up, there was a good chance I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.
    I set her on the bed and found a pair of earphones. I put on some classic rock music just loud enough to drown out the sudden bouts of thunder and popped them in her ears. She stirred, but her body slowly relaxed.
    I smiled with simple pride. Which reminded me of something important.
    I was scoring real high in the pathetic idiot department.
    I was about to leave Victoria and find a way to fit my ladder like feet into that almost microscopic couch when she caught my hand, her grip iron solid.
    I sighed.
    I settled in next to her, one arm in her death grip, the other propping my head up because surprise, sleep was flipping me the bird again.
    It was about as comfortable as being tied to a chair.
    “Spooning is definitely for wimps.” I muttered. “And contortionists.”
    In my discomfort however, my head had cleared enough to consider Daniel’s elder brother.
    All I knew about Daniel’s family is that they’d come here from Valkyria and he’d lost his brother at sea when that guy had been twenty.
    Danny had been quite young then and while he’d never admit it, I knew that’s why he was scared of the ocean, despite coming from a family of sailors.
    “Seek the child of birth by blood and storm .”
    Would certainly fit.
    There was just the small question of the guy being dead, and all.
    “A soul revived in the shadows I see.”
    I smiled. Gotta love Archangel Wikipedia.
    I kept playing with the words until I couldn’t think anymore. Eventually I fell into a dreamless sleep, waking up only late into the morning.
    Victoria was almost awake, the sun falling on her face and showing off the soft angle of her shoulder.
    Her pink top rode up just enough so I could see an inch of her waist.
    I ran a finger over the exposed skin, almost compulsively.
    Her spine arched back under my touch and I couldn’t help skim under her dress to trace the lines of her old scars. She moaned, sensitive having just woken up.
    I pushed up the back of her dress and playfully unhooked her bra with my teeth.
    “Why didn’t I let you sleep on the couch?” She muttered, completely flushed.
    I laughed, knowing I’d gotten her all hot and bothered.
    “Because you’re a wimp in frills.” I answered, kissing the small of her back. She buried her head in the pillow, trying not to moan.
    “And I find frilly wimps incredibly hot.”
    ****

    Xavier : “LIKE BECAUSE TIGER CUBS ARE HIGH MAINTENANCE.” XD

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    📌 Episode 44

    🎬 “Prince hates Pixar”

    Written by Jchrist (African Good Boy)

    _________________________________________
    🎤 Victoria
    Biscuit sang about as well as a pigeon.
    A goth pigeon that OD’d on heroin after spending five years in pigeon juvie.
    Boy could rap but give him Sweet Child O’ Mine and you’d shoot yourself with a Gun and lay some Roses on your own grave.
    I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry as I watched him singing karaoke in the bar, thoroughly drunk. His friend strode into the bar right then and literally stopped in his tracks.
    I raised a glass to him, deciding to play nice.
    “Top of the evening to you, Your Royal Bästerdliness.”
    He rolled his eyes.
    “Good one, Lady Bîtch Face of the Not-so-Assassin’s Creed.” He shot back, sitting on the furthest bar stool from mine. “What the flying fück did you do to him?”
    Clearly, Prince Blue Eyes – Xavier or Danny or whatever his name was – hadn’t gotten Biscuit drunk enough to see this miracle.
    “I gave him the adult dosage of whiskey.” I answered. “I think he deserves a Grammy, wouldn’t you agree?”
    Right then, Biscuit climbed on top of a table, ripping the buttons off his shirt in what I could only assume was the start of a strip dance.
    The Prince was mortified.
    “I don’t know what’s funnier.” I told him, downing a tequila. “Him singing like a drowning dog or you gaping like Nemo’s dad.”
    “Odd.” He said, shuddering. “Because I’d like to forget this is happening. You know, like the weird blue fish?”
    “Dory?” I was outright offended. “Wow, you really do have memory loss.”
    “Well, that’s not possible mostly because I haven’t seen the movie.” He admitted.
    “It’s official then.” I pronounced. “You will henceforth be referred to as Princess Dory of House Living-under-a-rock.”
    He rolled his eyes.
    “Sorry I didn’t spend my time watching Disney Princess rip offs.” He nursed his Cognac. “Some of us actually have a country to run.”
    “You sure make time for ripping vampire Princess’s clothes off. Careful, Disney’s going to feel neglected.”
    He glared at me.
    “It’s not like that.” He hesitated. “With her it’s never been about that. It’s on a different level, I guess.”
    He thought about it real hard like he was trying to explain Planck’s constant to me.
    “I’m in love with the way she always hesitates before she talks. The way she looks at a child like they’re all little miracles. The way her eyes sparkle when she gets lost in her own world.
    I don’t know if I’m in love with her yet but I’m certainly in love with simplest things she does.”
    I looked at the idiot on the table, smashing a bottle on the ceiling, thinking he was juggling.
    The simplest things make me want to gag him and throw him in the back of a trunk.
    “A toast to you, Sir Ässhat.” I said, solemnly. “Because one glass of liquor in you and you become Casanova. I’ll be sure to pass that on to Princess Bella Swan.”
    He definitely didn’t get the reference and mumbled something in response before he went back to drinking.
    I rolled my eyes and went to the table, where Biscuit was in the process of tossing his expensive shiny Rolex off.
    “I’ll take that.” I said, catching it midair. “You wanna get down now, Biscuit?”
    “Oh, I definitely want to go down.” He said. “On you.”
    He was too high up to smack.
    “How about you lay off on the alcohol?”
    “How about you give me a dollar bill and I’ll give you a private dance?”
    “Virgin in Haven, I will pay you everything in my bank account not to take your clothes off.” The Prince fired from the counter.
    “Annndd… that’s what she said.” I shot back at him. “Ka-Ching.”
    Understandably, his middle finger was getting a work out today.
    I was about to get on the table and drag Biscuit by any body part I could reach, when I heard a slow hiss.
    A shadow appeared by the far end of the bar, steel glinting in the dim light of the near empty room.
    “And the whole party’s here.” The client said, not bothering to hide his face anymore. “This is going to be fun.”
    The Prince gasped through the haze of the alcohol, instantly recognising his brother. We’d told him our theories of course, but he’d been quick to dismiss it because apparently his brother would never want to kill him.
    The sharp metal in the client’s hands told an entirely different story.
    “Jared.” He said, quietly. “How – How are you here? I thought you -”
    “Oh, I died.” The shadow replied evenly, moving stealthily towards us. “I have a generous friend trained in the Olden Arts.”
    I could only assume that meant necromancy from their exchange.
    The Prince looked at him in wonder and it only dawned on him when a blade missed his collar that the guy was going to kill him.
    “What are you doing?” His eyes went wide. “I’m your brother. Jared, look at me!”
    The client’s eyes showed no spark of recognition and it was only then that I caught the almost robotic way he moved.
    Almost like he had no free will.
    “You’re Prince Xavier Grigori.” He said, lips twisting in disgust. “And all of your kind deserve to die.”
    He didn’t make an effort to move, only threw his blades at the speed of light. The Prince finally came to his senses ducking down under the counter.
    The client turned his attention on me and I felt that familiar chilling panic.
    I had no guns, no blades, nothing.
    Barely avoiding his blades, I looked for something. Anything at all to defend myself.
    It was only a moment later when I got on the floor, that I noticed something very obvious.
    The client wasn’t standing on the ground.
    He was floating an inch over it.
    The Prince finally got the courage to grab a bottle from behind his hiding spot and aim at his brother.
    “Don’t!” I yelled.
    He dropped the thing out of sheer surprise. “What the fück, Victoria?”
    “He’s not real.” The words felt so familiar in my mouth. “He’s a ghost. He’ll vanish if he touches anything.”
    The Prince thought about it. Thankfully, he didn’t skip a beat, pulling some next level parlour trick and conjuring a gold thread that bound his brother’s form from thin air.
    The shadow went still and lifeless, just hovering in the air.
    I took a deep breath.
    This means it’s over, right?
    I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around full well expecting to be stabbed or something because my luck was just that awesome.
    A very drunk Biscuit, wearing nothing but boxers and dimples stood behind me, just chilling, like we hadn’t just captured a serial killer ghost.
    “Still waiting for that dollar, baby.”
    ***
    Victoria : “I’M NOT EVEN GOING TO The simplest things make me want to gag him and throw him in the back of a trunk.
    “A toast to you, Sir Ässhat.” I said, solemnly. “Because one glass of liquor in you and you become Casanova. I’ll be sure to pass that on to Princess Bella Swan.”
    He definitely didn’t get the reference and mumbled something in response before he went back to drinking.
    I rolled my eyes and went to the table, where Biscuit was in the process of tossing his expensive shiny Rolex off.
    “I’ll take that.” I said, catching it midair. “You wanna get down now, Biscuit?”
    “Oh, I definitely want to go down.” He said. “On you.”
    He was too high up to smack.
    “How about you lay off on the alcohol?”
    “How about you give me a dollar bill and I’ll give you a private dance?”
    “Virgin in Haven, I will pay you everything in my bank account not to take your clothes off.” The Prince fired from the counter.
    “Annndd… that’s what she said.” I shot back at him. “Ka-Ching.”
    Understandably, his middle finger was getting a work out today.
    I was about to get on the table and drag Biscuit by any body part I could reach, when I heard a slow hiss.
    A shadow appeared by the far end of the bar, steel glinting in the dim light of the near empty room.
    “And the whole party’s here.” The client said, not bothering to hide his face anymore. “This is going to be fun.”
    The Prince gasped through the haze of the alcohol, instantly recognising his brother. We’d told him our theories of course, but he’d been quick to dismiss it because apparently his brother would never want to kill him.
    The sharp metal in the client’s hands told an entirely different story.
    “Jared.” He said, quietly. “How – How are you here? I thought you -”
    “Oh, I died.” The shadow replied evenly, moving stealthily towards us. “I have a generous friend trained in the Olden Arts.”
    I could only assume that meant necromancy from their exchange.
    The Prince looked at him in wonder and it only dawned on him when a blade missed his collar that the guy was going to kill him.
    “What are you doing?” His eyes went wide. “I’m your brother. Jared, look at me!”
    The client’s eyes showed no spark of recognition and it was only then that I caught the almost robotic way he moved.
    Almost like he had no free will.
    “You’re Prince Xavier Grigori.” He said, lips twisting in disgust. “And all of your kind deserve to die.”
    He didn’t make an effort to move, only threw his blades at the speed of light. The Prince finally came to his senses ducking down under the counter.
    The client turned his attention on me and I felt that familiar chilling panic.
    I had no guns, no blades, nothing.
    Barely avoiding his blades, I looked for something. Anything at all to defend myself.
    It was only a moment later when I got on the floor, that I noticed something very obvious.
    The client wasn’t standing on the ground.
    He was floating an inch over it.
    The Prince finally got the courage to grab a bottle from behind his hiding spot and aim at his brother.
    “Don’t!” I yelled.
    He dropped the thing out of sheer surprise. “What the fück, Victoria?”
    “He’s not real.” The words felt so familiar in my mouth. “He’s a ghost. He’ll vanish if he touches anything.”
    The Prince thought about it. Thankfully, he didn’t skip a beat, pulling some next level parlour trick and conjuring a gold thread that bound his brother’s form from thin air.
    The shadow went still and lifeless, just hovering in the air.
    I took a deep breath.
    This means it’s over, right?
    I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around full well expecting to be stabbed or something because my luck was just that awesome.
    A very drunk Biscuit, wearing nothing but boxers and dimples stood behind me, just chilling, like we hadn’t just captured a serial killer ghost.
    “Still waiting for that dollar, baby.”
    ***

    Victoria : “I’M NOT EVEN GOING TO SAY ANYTHING. HAVE A NICE DAY.” XDANYTHING. Have a nice day.” XD

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