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HOVER
private & highly selective magician original character inspired by
The Prestige.

written by bea

theme graphic credit

est: 29.05.16

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miiserably:

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‘You could just kill them, too.’

[ she says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. her voice
  wavers just slightly, and momentarily sounds as if her mind is
  far away from the room they stand in. she blinks once, twice,
  ice-blue eyes darkening to pale brown. she wonders if he’ll notice.
  it feels nice, wearing her natural eye color. ]

‘You could kill anyone, I didn’t even see a drop of blood on the
                                  sheet as I sawed through his spine.’

[ a smile curves up on her lips. why she accepted his offer—–
  she doesn’t know. she felt drawn to him, perhaps, like a mystical
  hand tugging on her wrist. maybe she’s just saying that now that
  she knows they share a hobby. ]

‘I wanted to see your face. The lights wash you out so terribly I
                                  could scarcely make out any features.’

                  “ I COULD. “  he’d laugh at the casual tone of her suggestion; hell he likes this one.  “ It’d be harder to cover up… you’d be willing to help me with that I’d suppose? “

His head cocks to the side as hazel eyes observe her, he had to bite the inside of his bottom lip just to keep from grinning like a smitten school boy. She’s quite striking, and would draw a fresh crowd should she join him on stage every night. It wasn’t just the promise of a bigger audience that tempted the idea, but the thrill of such a beauty at his side each night. He’d needed an assistant for a while, bless poor Nancy six feet under, and good god… she was PERFECT.

                 “ AH –– “  he steps back, adopting a showman’s posture with that prideful grin that decorated his tattered posters,  “ Magic! “  He laughs for a moment, hands raising to unhook two buttons at his throat for comfort, and turns so he might locate the near empty bottle of Absinthe. Jon looks to her, brows risen to offer, he’s not always so willing to share, but alcohol might relax her tongue a tad more. 

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                 “ Oh I see. “  he laughs harder and louder now, the bottle neck clinks against the rim of the glass  ( that’s too large for an average dose of absinthe )  as his concentration is briefly lost,  “ You wanted to get on stage to get a closer look at my face. Alright. “  he approaches her again, glass absentmindedly held in hand as feet cease directly before her, close enough to note each imperfection upon his face.  “ Better? “

  1. murdertrick reblogged this from miiserably-blog
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