Gryfon129

Only an Olympic-medal-worthy display of coordination and balance allowed Anna to unlock the front door of her apartment. She flicked a braid over her shoulder with an easy toss of her head and hefted a third bulging bag of groceries atop the two already in her arms. The apartment wasn't large, but it was home. She'd bought herself cheap furniture from IKEA and gotten the rest from her parents' house. This ensured the mismatch of chairs, silverware, and bedding, but filled the space in a cozy and personal way. She imagined it was not unlike a college student living alone for the first time: no strict pattern or style, and personal items like m

(Note: Praestes is pronounced prah-ee-stez) -----------------------------------------------------        A light finger skimmed along the decimals and letters bordering the bottom third of a shelf of books before stopping to ease one out of line. The thick binding created a fine cloud of dust as it thumped against the other books in her arms, and for the third time that day Anna struggled not to sneeze. Failing, she heard a murmured chorus of ‘bless you’s’ from all around, the loudest of which was followed by a short, mocking laugh coming from the corner of the library where she’d been working previously. Trust Elsa t

    It’s tough when the love of your life is a demon. Worse still when it’s your one and only job to stop demons from entering the Mortal Plane. Another one of these occurrences this month and the Blessings Daemoniorum, “Blessings for Demons” organization or BD for short, was going to have her hide. And her paycheck.    Anna irritably dismissed the homeowner in clipped Portuguese, slipping her occupation’s customary leather gloves, silver crucifix, and holy water out of her bag. The cross thumped heavily on her chest, and she comforted herself knowing it wouldn’t be there long.    The favela’s stair

The shell was too close. The rifle stock slipped from her shoulder, weapon falling from her grasp as her feet began to pound the earth. The bomb’s secondary and tertiary detonations were sending flame and brick high into the cloud-filled sky. The zig, zag, duck, roll, dodge, repeat of training flew out of her brain with each thundering heartbeat, her line straight and narrow. Shrapnel exploded to her right, making her stumble, but with gritted teeth she pushed herself to the edge of the shell’s crater. Their base was in ruins, nothing more than blasted rubble and melted debris. Ceilings had been opened ruthlessly to the sky, wall

Anna loves drawing Elsa. Sure, Anna likes drawing a lot of things -the newborn ducklings featuring primely in the recent spring days- but her sister is a one of a kind interest. The redhead's simple charcoal and light hand have traced Elsa's delicate features a thousand different ways, but Anna's personal favorite is when she captures Elsa in the small things. A smile, fragile at first, warm and benign to her subjects. Bowing, head down to accept a flower crown from a young girl. Her graceful walk, formal and regal, down ranks of the guard. Elsa's softened brow when reading her favorite book, relaxed in her favorite chair, sitting quietly in

    The first few screams resonated in her skull like dice in the hands of a desperate gambler. They pushed  through the fog of unconsciousness, beckoning her towards full alertness. Anna kept her eyes shut and rolled over, a shout ripping from her throat as her hand came down on something unnaturally hot.     She sat up quickly, too quickly, and had to put her head between her legs to stop the nausea. The Anna cradled her hand against her chest, wincing at the sensitive skin. The smell of sulfur and wood smoke curled around her, filling up her lungs and making her body feel heavy.     Where am I?     Anna lifted her head and opened her ey