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@dainasinger
2/100 Pictures of Michael Fassbender
Instead of parents, now we have TVs. We are used to different, rougher punishments that actually worked and made children want to stop acting out. They cry everywhere they go, itâs awful. That is why whenever I see a brat whoâs bothering me I shoo them away and do to hesitate to push them. Their parents are doing a lousy job with them, they deserve it.
Too right you are. I was on a flight once with a child who thought it was a joy to run up and down the aisles. Their mother was too busy chatting with her male seatmate, and they weren't together. Of course a flight with your young child is the perfect place to attempt to get laid ---- I can't say that I didn't accidentally extend my arm in a yawn when the girl was darting up and down the lane. I hooked her chest with it and down she went. The flight attendant caught me doing it, but she just gave me a lovely smile. The girl stood up and stared in awe before sitting down and quieting, at least for ten minutes. It was amusing.
Right?! With the huge lot of them trooping in despite the warning signs. Itâs amazing, letâs be honest. Iâve been to New York City twice but for very short periods so I wouldnât know much although I know a bunch of people who were from there and they feel the same way as you. It makes me wonder how bad the city is â in comparison with London. I donât mind if you wanna share candy with me because hey! Who is opposed to candy right? What kind did you give out? Ooohh a mischievous shit⌠now you caught my attention. What did you do to earn that title? Yeah, dude. You defo have a shark grin! Itâs great though.Â
It's so crowded, it's a wonder anyone finds their way at all there. Though I suppose it's like any larger city: you live there long enough and you learn your way around. I couldn't be bothered for it. London, I think, is more tame. The crime in New York is more horrendous ---- or perhaps, like with all other things, American criminals are just poor at covering their tracks. It was an assorted bag, chocolates mostly. Snickers, Reese's and the like. Oh, of course you're welcome to it. I can't say I'd be too pleased to rot my teeth out on my own. We were large believers in Mischief Night. I took my brother around with me and raised all sorts of hell. It taught me how not to get caught when I'm naughty. Defo ... put my German jaw to use somehow.
I actually agree. Children are loud and obnoxious; what they all need is something stronger than a mere slap on their back of their hand. Discipline is something all of them lack.Â
Especially in this day and age. The generation I came from was rewarded belts and wooden spoons for misbehavior. I was locked in a closet when I was a boy for pranking my brother, and once when I flushed his head in a toilet I was beaten so severely I could barely walk the next day ---- that's how red my ass was. I never did it again, and I turned out to be a pleasant-enough teen. I've heard far too many children cry in the market, horrid little things that are rewarded toys and candies for their poor behavior. I think they're part banshee, in truth.
Obviously. Children are like pests to me, but I wonder, if you want one so much what has stopped you from becoming a father? Common sense?
And they absolutely can be pests. Mostly if they aren't raised properly ---- which seems to be the plague of modern parents. They're far too terrified to raise a hand to their spawn when they deserve it and thus, they get away with anything. Ah, no. My ex-wife had a miscarriage. None of the women after her were really birthing material.
Lucky you! Although this Halloween practice isnât that common elsewhere. Maybe only London since its the only place in England thatâs not exactly.. like England. But watching them having fun is always fun too. Hhhmmm⌠Like a shark grin? Because mate, you definitely have that going on. I wish I had that. I just end up looking like a complete arse.Â
No, London is more like a larger American city. Perhaps New York, though I can say I've only been there once and have no inclination of returning. Not a very lovely country, America. Regardless ---- I had purchased candy with the intent of giving it out. There's some left over, which I know I'll eat, but it was nice to actually have visitors. In Germany we made games of it, when I was a boy. I was also a mischievous shit. A shark grin? I can't say I've been told that one before. I do have a lot of teeth.
I chose to believe you were. Children are nothing but delightful.Â
Not everyone was born to be a parent. I'd like to believe I'll be graced with one of my own, someday. The years are passing far too quickly. I can only admire their excellent behavior on holidays, in the face of gifts and treats. Sarcasm or not.
Your comment was a nice display of sarcasm.
It's a shame I wasn't being sarcastic, isn't it?
⌠right.
Sounds like you had a good time. I mean itâs rare to hear people having a pleasant time giving out candy! Children are never the problem. The troublemakers are the ones who are much older. Especially when theyâre drunk and they think fake blood is drinkable and then they get sick near you. Horrible.
I can't say I've ever had that happen. I think there's a certain air of intimidation cast when the older children attempt mischief around me. I'd like to think I took after my father with that. I've been told I have a menacing smile.
I didn't quite think there were so many children around my complex. All the same -- how well behaved they were! Passing out candy was delightful. So many adorable costumes. Children are such a treasure, well-behaved on a holiday when they know they're receiving free treats en mass.
Revelations || Daitoria
Victoria has always maintained an air of pristine grace, today, however, she seemed to lack of it. Her muscles ached. Her bones were gnawing with exhaustion. If it wasnât for the situation the night before, she would have refused to be outside looking like a mess. Victoria was too tired to even care what people think of her hair when she was approaching the building prior. Of course before Daina had arrived, she made the effort to smooth her dark mane into a ponytail â just to appear more composed than her actual state. His presence made the atmosphere appear stable and calm. She couldnât explain it but Daina exudes quiet confidence â a trait that she truly appreciates, especially now.
Her eyes fluttered close as his lips pressed on her temple. If given any other day, Victoria would give him a surprised look and would step away (Oh what irony â deep inside she would be secretly welcoming it). But not today. She welcomed it even. His lips managed to sooth whatever that is left of her entangled nerves from last night. Some familiarities, despite its long absence, still have the same impact as before. Victoria simply nodded when Daina assured her that he was fine. He didnât look hurt or sustained any injuries. She didnât realise his arm was around her shoulders until he gently pulled away. The situation at hand quelled any petty emotions â like feeling disappointed that he wasnât touching her anymore.
Victoria gave him a small, meek smile â something that was out of the ordinary given her personality. âWell, I have learnt that majority of London is made of idiots. I wonât be surprised if he still hangs around.â The last few words left the tip of her tongue bitterly. She could still hear the ringing in her ears when she fired the shots at her assailant. Sighing, Victoria nodded, gesturing Daina to follow her up to the apartment. The elevator wasnât working (she checked that just now) but thankfully she only lived on the fourth floor. It wasnât too much of a climb. When they finally reached the top of the stairs, Her hazel eyes landed on her door which was ajar. The white paint on it was scratched and on the floor, she could see scattered pieces of glass. The floor board creaked underneath her weight, causing Victoriaâs breath to hitch. She stopped. âUh⌠Maybe you want to take a lead on this one?âÂ
It was obvious that the events of the blackout had her shaken. Daina couldn't say that he blamed her for it ---- had he been any other person his own home invasion may have ended with an understandable fear of the unknown. Behind her he followed as she lead them up the stairs and around, up to the door ajar and at her halted actions he brushed gently passed her. It was easy to say that there was a place where the Daina she knew parted from the Daina for business and the easy peel was already beginning. As he passed he brushed reassuring fingers against her shoulder, those of which moved toward the semi-zipped line of his jacket and reached for the prize within. Pressing his back against the frame of the door he peeled the automatic .22 pistol from it's holster and peered into the door crack. His breaths were silent.
It reminded him of the job he had done for Laka Harrison not too far back. Entering hell unawares had given him a sense of adrenaline that he cherished and in that instance there was a lovely harmony between employer and cleaner. Laka was a woman who had proven she could handle her own. Victoria was strong, of course, but a surge to protect overrode the features that allowed Daina to be more spirited in this work. Except that it wasn't work ... and it required surgical precision. Raising the index finger of his free hand to his lips he indicated silence, moving forward with rounded shoulders, hand's grip firm on the Glock. His own weight placement on the floorboards gave a slight creak but with practiced dispersal of steps ---- into her flat he went, eyes open against plunging darkness.
The damage everywhere was evident. Evidence of looting, the smatterings of blood here and there, broken glass ... he could tell where she had shot him based off of that and with his experience of work. He could tell that the looter had lingered around once the smell hit his nose. It was just a matter of where. Hoping Victoria wouldn't follow in too closely he went along careful of where he placed his footfalls. There were many instances such as these where quiet was key. The peel of reality from work was half done, his eyes drank in surroundings as he went. Smeared blood here, broke something there, leading in and to the back of the flat, further from the door. The idea that he lingered in here was unsettling, disturbing. Like a direct threat on something precious of Daina's.
So when he rounded the corner and there he was, Daina didn't think. He just allowed his finger to pull back the trigger. The immediate burst from the pistol rang through the flat and the four slugs marched forth, burying themselves surely in the man's chest ---- one spraying up to his neck. He was dead before he hit the floor. Head canted to the side like a curious cat, Daina moved fully into the room and toed the man's arm with is foot, as if there was a chance he was alive. With amusement he couldn't hold back in his tone he called out, "Are you alright back there?" The loudness a sign of safety. From the intruder, at least.
Something Snapped.
That blackout is sure a funny thing. While some people are busy recovering their losses Daina is busy trying to stifle down his new found desire to shed more blood than he cleans. Last he checked he wasn't into serial killing but burying a few bullets into the chest of his would-be invader was more satisfying than he would like to admit. It seems that his carefully crafted composure is coming apart, all down to one exposed thread. Given his already established connections it's not too terribly hard for Daina to find a mark, and once he had his eyes on a target there's no stopping him. Your character can be his employer in this instance (and who doesn't love a bloody assassination with a full cleanup attached?), someone who was meant to work with him, or someone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, it's an unfortunate thing (or fortunate) for them to experience Daina in this new state. He can be unpredictable. (Filled by Dom Colton)
Sincerest Apologies.
At least work at the flower shop has been steady. The colder season always brings a brash of accidents, October seems to be a month where a lot of people lose their loved ones. For a hobby job, being a florist is booming. Though anyone who knows Daina knows it's a cover to get into contact with him for work. Most nights Daina can be found closing shop. New clients who hear of Herr Singer are welcome to stop in and chat about flowers and how to clean them up. Your character comes in with just such a request. Or perhaps they really do need an arrangement for a dearly departed. Who knows, really?