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Jeremiah Jones
Killed: September 27, 2018 at 05:57 pm EDT
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Born: July 29, 2018 Forum Topics Started: 0
Race: Slayer Forum Posts / Replies: 0
Affiliation: No Affiliation Mail Replies Sent: 14
Home City: Los Angeles Mail Sent: 3
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Summer 08/20/18 Seeing him retrieve his phone, his laugh brings forth another from her. Funny how that keeps happening. Watching him tap out a reply, she pulls out her phone as it vibrates against her palm. Reading it, she pinched her lips in an effort to bite back a laugh. Yea, it was probably poorly timed and a mere mortal might have run screaming. Lucky Miah. Sending a simple ‘-___-’ in return, she finally let her laugh out. “You’re an odd duck, Mister Smith.” One dark eyebrow arched as she smirked. “I like it.” Her eyes did fall to his waistband but weren’t really checking for weapons. If he had one that could take her, then she’d die, simple as that. Chances were slim though, so she wasn’t too worried. She was, of course, assuming he was a regular guy with regular (read: sh-tty) shooting skills and could be easily bested.

Summer didn’t actually feel the need to take a look around his apartment for the same reason she didn’t feel the need to check him for weapons. But if she didn’t, she’d end up following him like a puppy dog to his mailbox. So- she acquiesced. Plus, maybe he wanted to smooth out any perceived slight from his text. “Alright, I’ll make sure the worst you’ve got up there is some shake.” With a chuckle, she looked at the humble bungalow and walked through the opened door.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dimmer interior light. Scanning her gaze around, she took it in. Small indeed, but she never doubted that for a minute. Anything larger would require him to be a millionaire. And that was no exaggeration around here. Beach-adjacent in Southern California? Forget it. With his hobby/job, this location was ideal. And seriously, who needed more space than the basic necessities? Which for Summer meant everything minus the kitchen. As noted, she had no need for such a thing. The place was sparse in the way that revealed a man lived here. Some things were universal. She didn’t honestly look for evidence on the contrary to him being a psychopath. She knew psychopaths, knew that everything could look perfectly normal. Turning her head toward the door, she called out loudly, “Okay! I’m convinced you're not a serial killer! You can come in now!” Laughing as she imagined any neighbors hearing.
Summer 08/19/18 His laughter is infectious, so Summer joins in. But honestly, she has no idea why they are laughing. That is until he says he’d be the worst dad. Her laughter grows as she nods knowingly. “Tell me about it. I won’t even get a plant!” Her eyes shift back and forth. “I mean...I’ll grow some plants.” She grins wildly and laughs again.

Making a noise that reveals her understanding as he describes surf camp, she nods. “Okay, that makes more sense.” Tilting her head to the side, her cheeks tint a little inexplicably at his question. Would it have made him more likable? She’d not considered it, not thinking outside factors matter much to likability that often. Her hippie-self would say what matters most is inside. She gives a wide, toothy grin and sticks to what she knows best. Honesty. “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty likable as is. Kids or no kids, it’s neither here nor there. I don’t have any either. I mean, obviously since I said I wouldn’t even have a plant.” Okay, Summer, easy does it. Honesty is refreshing, bumbling and rambling somewhat less so. Glancing down at the phone in her hand, she sees his text and laughs. Quickly thumbing back a reply, Shhh, don’t talk about my new friend like that! He’s gonna make me breakfast! XD “ Hitting send, she slips the phone in her back pocket.

Looking back up at him, her eyes are wide, whites surrounding the dark irises. “Ohhh my god yes to chicken and waffles. Holy sh-t, that is the best ever. Yes. Yes, a hundred times yes.” She says emphatically. And then she realizes she is about to go to the apartment of someone she just met on the street. She knew her strengths. She was pretty sure she could take him. The thing was, she didn’t know his strengths. Everyone around here seemed to have some sneaky secret up their sleeve. It was a calculated risk, but she enjoyed his company. Plus- chicken, waffles, and a bowl. “Lead the way.” She says with a grin. If he was a homicidal maniac, at least she’d die full and baked. Not the worst way she’d died.
Summer 08/18/18 Blinking a few times, she watches him as he thinks. She figures he’s thinking at least since he is the one who initiated exchanging numbers. Maybe he rethought it? Oh god. Her stomach felt like an icy hand gripped it. How to put her phone away nonchalantly. Before she could dwell on it further, she realizes she is staring at him. On the verge of blushing, her head tilted to the side. His face betrays no thoughts. It was...remarkable. She made a mental note to never play poker with this guy. At least not when actual stakes were involved.

Laughing lightly, she bobs her head up and down in understanding. “Hey, how often do we call ourselves, right?” Adding his number, she assigned it to simply ‘Miah’. Glancing up at him, she has a brief thought to take his picture, so his face would be in also. She thinks the better of it. That is a ‘second meeting’ type of thing for sure. Besides, she wasn’t putting a lot of stock in hearing back from him. No need in having a face with a contact for some rando on the street, right? Despite the nagging thoughts, she hits save, then sends a text right to him. Hey, it’s me, Summer. Blonde chick standing in front of you.” With an amused chuckle, she hit send.

“The kids? Students, or like...yours?” Not that it would matter, but he didn’t give off the vibe that he was a parent. Probably the whole ‘being stoned midday’ thing. Wait, no that wasn’t it. Sh-t if that were the criteria, no one would have guessed her parents had as many offspring as they did. Damn. She hopes he’s not a parent like hers. That’d be a bummer for so many reasons. “My schedule is pretty similar. Weekends tend to be busier- those shifts get the best tips. Nights- I tend to stay busy for the same reason.” Yea, among other reasons. “Seems like the days work well for both of us. So, I guess that means breakfast is on.” She laughs, realizing she’s kind of pinning him down on his mention of cooking for her. Hey, she does not take such promises lightly.
Summer 08/15/18 Yet again, the man was describing a dish that she’d ordinarily shy away from. Not even shy away from- eschew with disgust. Yet he was describing it in such a way that she wanted to order it the next time she was at a restaurant. Tonight even, it sounded that mouthwateringly delicious. Honestly though, one simply had to describe a food as ‘buttery’ and the blonde would be in line for it, plate out and ready.

She realized a bit too late that she’d been talking quite a bit. This poor guy probably had sh-t to do. Cheeks tinting slightly pink, she laughed lightly and nodded at his request. “Yea! I’ve got my phone right here.” Plucking it from the back pocket of her snug jeans, she ran her thumb across it a few times, getting to the remarkably rarely used section of the phone, she opened the contacts tab. Looking up at him expectantly, she waited, fingers poised ready to enter his number. “I’ll send a text right away, then you can have my number, no paper needed.” Her smile was warm and easy. It was true- she certainly wouldn’t mind hearing from this curious fellow again. It seemed strange that they’d only just met. The conversation had an easy flow to it, giving her the feeling of knowing him longer than just the meager minutes she had. Perhaps it was simply that he’d responded in kind, chatting easily and without pressure. From her childhood on up to being sold off and locked in a turret all alone, it was true that Summer yearned to make connections with others. It was also true that because of those facts, among others, she had difficulty doing so. One thing that came easy, inexplicably, was keeping people at arms reach. Fewer questions. Fewer sad, pitiful stares when they learned of her upbringing. Less horror and confusion as to what she was now. Summer absolutely was a byproduct of the increased isolation on a growing, crowded society. How one person could be an island to themselves while living in a city of 12 million was a miracle of modernity.

Yet here she was, chatting the ear off a fellow stoner, a beach bum like herself. A chap who had the ability to make her mouth water with the simple skill of describing foie gras and sprout salad. Later on, after they’d part ways, she’d sit on her couch spacing out to the TV wondering if he was not who he seemed. If he was sent to finally drag her back. Back to the number of places she’d escaped. But that level of paranoia wouldn’t happen until later. Not until after smoking an entire bowl of Super Sour Diesel. For now, she was intrigued, unquestioning and calm.
Summer 08/07/18 Grinning wide, she nods slowly and emphatically at her voracious appetite. Putting hands on her hips, she tilted her head and said in her best 1950s housewife voice, just for the hell of it. “Hey, you don’t get curves like these by saying no to seconds.” Her laugh was ribald and hearty, eyes crinkled to slits in amusement.

Expression growing somber, she pursed her lips. “Well, any rule is moot if something is trying to kill me. Self-defense, man. I don’t care how smart it is or how reverential I am.” She cleared her throat and said sternly, “If a squid tries to eat me, I will be having calamari for dinner, without question.” Face creasing into amusement once more, she confessed, “I was at Disney World once a few years ago. I’m sitting out in one of their outside cafe’s, right. So there are ducks and whatnot wandering around. Signs saying ‘don’t feed the wildlife’--as if I’d share my $25 cheeseburger with fowl. Please. Anyhow, this damned fearless duck comes right up to me, begging. I tell it no and shoo it away. That little b-tch nipped at my thigh! I swear, Miah, I looked right in her little beady black eyes and told her if she did that one more time, I was having foie gras for dinner.” She stood up tall and gave a little nod. “She waddled away. Wisely.” One eyebrow raised. “I mean, I’ve never even had foie gras. It sounds...gross. Not like, use all the parts of a pig hot dog gross, but like- why would you do that gross.” She looked at him expectantly, like he’d have a good answer.

Nodding slowly in understanding at his answer, she replies, “No, it makes total sense. I don’t have favorites of anything. How can I possibly pick one dish, one color, one album, one book...I cannot. The world is too full of amazing things. There isn’t just one amazing thing of anything. So I guess that was a silly question for me to ask. But you know...some people do have a specialty dish so I guess it was worth asking.” She laughed lightly at herself. She might think him a little mad for not wanting spicy, but that’s no bother. That means she doesn’t have to share the hot sauce bottle. Bully for her. As for high or low brow, she nods. “Time and place for everything, and all that.”
Summer 08/06/18 You know that feeling when you actually notice an opportunity is being missed? That is how Summer felt as he described his initial menu, complete with all the food she avoids. Clearly, he’s joking, but her mouth waters just the same. This man knows his way around the kitchen. One doesn’t simply describe a sprout salad and make a girls mouth water without knowing at least a few tricks. Listening to him, she chewed her lips and furrowed her brow. Her tastes were obviously low brow. That much was true. Not that she was ashamed of that, but in the face of actual knowledge of food, her desire for hot wings and fried fish felt markedly naive and pitiful.

Giving a slow nod, she answered, “I do love breakfast food. And yea, I’m British. I’ve been in Sydney for a while though and seemed to have adopted that accent a bit.” She laughed. “I don’t sound British when I visit London. Which I’m actually okay with.” Okay, shut up Summer. It isn’t group therapy. You only just met the man, as he reminded you moments ago. She gave a smile. “I like all the breakfasts. Please don’t feel obligated to whip up some bangers and mash on account of my birthplace.” She laughed, then looked at him seriously. “And please don’t stifle your creativity. Perhaps I need to step outside of the greasy chip shop, bar food lifestyle I’m used to. What you described sounds really good, even though I'm loathed to admit it.” Her face scrunched up like she could hardly believe she admitted that. Would she actually eat eggplant? Perhaps if served how he described it, yes.

“I have eaten calamari before, so perhaps I’m a hypocrite. I just read an article on how octopus are quite smart and can actually escape from some confines. And I just…” Was struck by such envy that a creature was able to do that when she couldn’t for so long? Marveled at how such a magnificent creature was still held captive and eaten, and she wanted to honor it for being able to break free? “...I just think they are kind of rubbery when I chew them.” She said quickly, eyes darting to the side. Christ on rye, Summer. Even an amateur could see that lie from a mile away. She grinned, hoping to scoot right past that little fib. “I have an excellent appetite. One could even describe it as insatiable.”

“What I’d like to have, at some point, is to eat whatever it is that is your favorite meal to prepare. That would be pretty amazing. Since I have no allergies, you can use whatever ingredient. No restrictions whatsoever. Just you, your mad skills, and a culinary masterpiece.” She swallowed, not adding any bit about cephalopods. Best to just leave that topic alone. She’d eat it though if he made it for her.
Summer 08/04/18 She perks, eyebrows lifting, taking his off the cuff comment about pickpocketing as abject permission. One brow lowers, leaving one arched high. A poor surfer boy? She clucked her tongue. “That is something rich people say to throw robbers off the mark.” She laughed, mostly teasing. She had no reason to believe he’d fib, plus -and most importantly- a person’s financial situation was theirs alone. It was none of her business and besides, bragging about being rich was just gauche. “I was a vegetarian once. Seems like a lifetime ago.” Her voice held a faraway quality, face squinting as though she were looking back in time. Shaking her head, she said quickly, “But not anymore. I got over that. I eat anything. Like…I’ll try anything twice. It has to be twice because maybe it just wasn’t made right the first time.” She nods sagely, but then sucks in a breath and holds up a finger. “Except Cephalopods. I’d rather not eat them. I find them…beautiful. Not to be consumed.” She blushed a little, feeling her old hippie leanings rearing their (dreadlocked) head. Hey, it was true. The eight-legged sea creatures fascinated her. “I’m not allergic to anything.” That was an understatement. As if something as inconsequential as food could harm her. Ha. “I have a tooth for all things greasy and fried. The first time I visited New Orleans, I must’ve eaten my weight in fried catfish and beignets. Basically- if it is fried, I want it. Add some hot sauce on that sh-t and we’re in business. I think it is from growing up near a chip shop but not having money to buy any. I could smell it. It was torture.” Laughing heartily, she admitted, “I’m not exactly a foodie. But perhaps when confronted with actual culinary skills, I might become one!” Lifting up her chin, she said defiantly, “I’m not afraid of whatever skills you have that might be a culinary nightmare. Not afraid!” Her eyes widened as if to punctuate the point, then laughed, not even entirely sure what a culinary nightmare would be.

Thinking hard, it took a few seconds to come up with things she didn’t like. “I am really not impressed with eggplant. It is slimy and bitter. I’m also not a bit fan of oysters for the same reason. I swear eating them is like having someone blow their nose in your mouth.” Her face wrinkles up and she shakes her head rapidly, blonde hair tossing from side to side. “That is not an exaggeration.” She laughed but was completely serious. “I find sprouts to be weird. Like I’m eating lawn clippings.” Giving a shrug, she continued, “But as mentioned, I’ll try anything. Especially if it is made with mad skills.” She gave him a look that was reminiscent of a challenge.
Summer 08/01/18 Pushing her head back, driving her chin into her neck, she gives him a withering look. “I know enough.” Relaxing her posture, she snickered and held up her hand, counting off. “For one, I know you’re well read, even if you don’t know who Christopher Moore is. For two, you have well-established hobbies that satisfy your own personally driven desires.” She gave him a pointed look with a little shrug of one shoulder. “You cook for yourself because you like to do it. Not for any other reason, even if you do say it’s for lack of a pretty woman to cook for you.” She continued, frowning for a moment as she forgot what number she was on. “For three, you smoke, so like, you can’t be too bad. It says that you are somewhat open-minded. And four, you laugh at my stupid jokes. Which means you are a wise, wise man. Humor is a thinking man's pursuit after all.” Beaming a grin, she put the hand on her hip. “Therefore, I know enough and I will not steal from you. I mean, aside from maybe a pickpocket here or there.” Waving a hand dismissively, “But that ain’t nothin’. Everyone does that.” It was all the truth. Summer shoved her hands in her back pocket, her lips twisted in an unassuming smile.
Summer 07/31/18 Giving him her most winning smile, she dons her best angelic expression. Which is pretty damned angelic, for reasons. Shaking her head, her expression remained celestial. “No, no, dear Mr. Smith. Slicing and dicing people is not where my talents lie. Worst case scenario- I’d steal all your valuables.” She says the last sentence very matter of fact like she’s doing him a solid in merely robbing him blind and leaving him alive to know it. Face crumpling as she laughs, she claps her hands and says, “I’m just f-cking with you. I never steal from people I know.” Her laughter continued. The best jokes were the true ones.
VaylinShadow 07/31/18 She feels him grab her wrist and smirks " Is that right? Well now you just made things alot more interesting" Smiling at him she get a bit closer to him
Summer 07/30/18 At the mention of clearing a six-foot bong, the blonde got a bit green around the gills. Luckily, the conversation moved swiftly onward. She could hold her own, let there be no question there. But the act of pulling that hard, repeatedly? It made her stomach do somersaults.

Laughing at his faux-shock, her cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. Giving a tight, guilty smile, she nodded. “Yeaaa...when they ask “rice for how many?” I always feel like a complete shut-in. Which I guess isn’t far from the truth. I just need me time every now at then, dammit!” She exclaimed, her expression turned to that of defense before laughing.

Raising one brow at his suggestion, her face relaxes at his amendment. “I can turn pages so good. You don’t even know.” Looking him over, she thought it sounded like a fun time. He seemed laid back, generally unbothered by chaos. There was something else, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Ah yes. He wasn’t pretentious. He hadn’t asked her what she did for a living, which she found refreshing. It was such a trite question that was loaded with double meaning. How much did you make? Where do you fit in normal societal standards? How can you help me climb the corporate ladder? In short, it was gross. And a question that was very difficult to avoid in the Land of Pretension- Los Angeles. The fact that he hadn’t even skirted the issue was a delight. With that delightment, it didn’t even cross her mind that the missing of the question was possibly intentional. That he might not want to discuss what he did for a living. It wasn’t that she was gullible. There were many parts of her heart and mind that were guarded with an iron portcullis, cynical from the wear and tear of life. Other parts were left untethered, unjaded and lacking suspicion.

That openness allows her to smile brightly, dark eyes looking like whiskey on the rocks in the sunlight. “I think that sounds like a fine idea, Chef Miah. Perhaps I’ll even act as a Sous Chef! What! I can chop things…”
Summer 07/30/18 Laughing hard at the visual, she tried to imagine smoking from such a beast. A bong actually taller than she was. Stifling a laugh, she tapped her chin in a look of deep thought. “Add that to the bucket list. For sure.” Her giggles bubbled past her lips, unable or unwilling to restrain them longer.

Giving a slow nod, she said with approval, “Bukowski. I definitely approve. It isn’t something I can read on the daily. Or I mean, I shouldn’t. Catering to certain thoughts can lead down dark roads. She made a face. “But he writes the truth. He’s kinda like George Carlin in that regard, you know? That seems like a weird comparison.” She looked into the distance, watching two seagulls fight over a balled up fast food wrapper. Giving a little shrug, she looked back at him. “I guess it’s not so weird.”

Snickering at his reasons for taking up cooking, she brightened at the mention of cooking shows. “Aside from Great British Bake Off, I like the instructional cooking shows on public broadcasting over the competition shows. I hate the manufactured drama.” Sticking a tongue out, she then laughed with chagrin. “How sad is it that I sit around eating takeout Chinese while watching Jacques Pépin?” And just like that, she very carefully navigated around the mention of a mother’s cooking. “I can see how it is comforting. Anything with that singular focus will do the trick. Just takes your mind off everything else. Hell, couple that with a spliff and it’s goodbye problems! Hmm, now you got me thinking I need to look into cooking.” She snickered.
Summer 07/30/18 “A bong person?!” She puts a hand to her chest in a mocking shocked expression. Giving a wave, she laughs. “I’m an opportunist. No hard feelings against bongs. They just aren’t nearly as portable as a joint tucked behind the ear, you know?” Lifting a brow, she looked him up and down with a curious look. “A Vespa? I guess you kinda have that hipster vibe.” She playfully smacked his arm and laughed. “Nah, they’re cool. I just...well, hell. I never pegged myself for a motorcycle, but it works.” She never pegged herself to drive anything, ever again, but some fears could be conquered it seemed. Baby steps. If she notices any dry mouth, she’d chalk it up to a byproduct of the good sh-t, so she doesn’t bat an eye. Tilting her head to the side, she thought about what she liked to read. “I’ve read a lot of the classics. Nowadays, I stick to modern literature for the most part. I don’t care for fantasy, horror or any weird sh-t really.” Why read fantasy or horror when you lived among it, lived through it? Twisting her lips, she acquiesced. “My current favorites are Chuck Palahniuk and Christopher Moore...both of whom can admittedly venture into the fantastical and weird. That’s different though.” She gave a toothy grin. “I want to hear more about this cooking hobby of yours. It’s something I never got into. I swear, I’d starve without delivery.”
VaylinShadow 07/30/18 She smirks " Vaylin pleasure." She bows with a smile on her face " Also " She pushes him playfully " Not very nice to trick poor girl like that heh."
VaylinShadow 07/30/18 Blinks for a moment in confusion " Umm i was paying you a complement" Raises an eyebrow thinking maybe that was sarcasm.
VaylinShadow 07/30/18 Smiles and bows " Welcome Good looking"
Summer 07/30/18 Laughing, she raised her hand up and bobbed her head. "Well, yea! I mean, I prefer joints, but who's counting. A bong'll work in a pinch." She giggled. "Leisure like, not catapulting to the ground a high rate of speed with nothing but a sheet of nylon to keep me from plowing directly into hell." Chuckling, she thought for a moment. "I recently got a motorcycle! That's not so leisurey, except the one I got is this fat b-tch that is a cruiser. It's pretty amazing. I like dancing. Yes, reading. Preferably belly up on the beach, soaking up the rays." She paused her rambling, looking him over. "And you? Like anything besides heartstopping, life-threatening activities?
Summer 07/29/18 Her eyes instinctively narrowed, almost like she was wincing as she imagined jumping from a very great height for the simple reason of it being a thrill. Visibly swallowing, she lifted her brows. “You know...I’ll try anything once.” Giving a smile that almost looked like a grimace, she laughed and let out a breath. “I’m kinda more into the umm, leisure past times.” Her laugh rang out loud, dark eyes twinkling with mirth.
Katarina Black 07/29/18 Welcome to the realm
Summer 07/29/18 Nodding knowingly at his comment on Bondi beach, "Yea, it can be a bit much. But in winter, it dies off a bit. And I don't really mind crowds." Her nod turned to a shake. Grinning wide, she answered, "Nah, I've never learned if you can believe it." Cheeks tinting slightly, she admitted, "I boogie board." She knew the general feeling of boogie boarding among some surfers. "I like being..." Giving her head a slide forward, she put her hand palm down toward the ground. " you know...low to the earth." She laughed heartily. It was ridiculous but true.
Summer 07/29/18 The thing was, she didn't think his missing that it was legal to be all that strange. After all, he'd been going to those shops for a while with his card. He didn't need to know when it went legal for the rest of the schmucks. She just wasn't that paranoid. She avoided those strains like the plague. Chuckling to herself, she brightened at his asking about Sydney. "Bondi is my favorite beach and it does boast some kick ass waves in the winter. You'll have to check it out sometime." She gives a little shrug of her shoulder. "I'm assuming you surf, of course." Laughing lightly, it was pretty obvious. He was very nearly a stereotype. But so many of them are, really.
Summer 07/29/18 It was always strange when someone introduced themselves and included the name their friends called them. Which camp did she fall in? Not a friend. But was Jeremiah too formal? She'd not considered 'sir' to be formal, rather cheeky instead. She was overthinking again. Clicking her tongue, she gave a knowing nod and narrowed her eyes almost conspiratorially. "Now we don't even need a card, it's legal and easily available! Seriously, what a time to be alive." Her gaze held a faraway expression as she marveled. Yea, she needed to make a stop at one of the new shops popping up with the tell-tale green cross on the sign. Kills the overthinking quickly. "Yea, I live here for now. Kinda on a trial basis. Mainly I live in Sydney, but it's winter there right now. What can I say, Summer loves summer!" She laughed, finding that statement to be the dumbest she'd said in a long time, which was an accomplishment.
Summer 07/29/18 Stuffing her hands in her back pocket, she bounces on the soles of her feet. Lifting a brow, she lifts both brows and says emphatically. "I am quite well, thanks. The name's Summer. Welcome to the Realm. Welcome to the great state of California, where most things that are enjoyable are legal!" She said with a laugh. Hell, he was likely a native. He looked like it.
Summer 07/29/18 The blonde pulls up on the welcome wagon, offering a wave and a smile. And by 'welcome wagon', we mean her feet in a slow, easy stroll. "Hello! I hope your day is going well, sir!"
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