#god.start

     to say that thorne was in a bad mood was a slight understatement. sure he got hit by a car but there wasn’t any damage to the nissan’s body so he didn’t understand why he couldn’t just go. sitting cross-armed in the street, he huffed, much like an oversized toddler when a shadow loomed over him. “before you ask, yeah, i looked both ways before crossing the street. i looked both handsome and radiant, too bad i still got hit by that car.”

       HIT  THAT  LIKE  BUTTON  for  a  sentence  starter  based  around  the  song  i’m  listening  to  on  my  spotify  shuffle.   (  every  starter  will  be  different  and  will  obviously  be  more  than  just  a  lyric  i’m  just  not  creative  without  prompts  so  here  we  are. )

Lux sits in the God Club lounge, a book of wild animals from Africa sits on her lap. Beside her are other books, all with animals located on different continents. “If a hamster was not a hamster and was, say --” she doesn’t look up as she starts talking but had spotted the person from the corner of her eye, “ -- a much larger, more wild one, which animal would it be ? ”

" --- don’t you ever get tired of this mundane life? ”  he can’t imagine how anyone could just --- settle for this dull lifestyle.  well, other than the ones who clearly got the short end of the stick during their past lives.  

Monday's schedule is crazy due to high wedding season, so she's running off from one meeting to another from manhattan to brooklyn and back. claude's walking out from an uptown office after a rather heated discussion with the catering company her client was very adamant on hiring, despite the planner's nice offers to switch to one she trusts the most. it turned out well, but resulted in a late leave and her having to reschedule a couple meetings for the next day. so when she walks out the building to wait for her car, the sun's almost set. she looks down at her phone to check her mail when she feels a sudden tug, and before she knows it her purse has been stolen. the brunette presses her hands against her sinuses but doesn't even attempt to go behind the culprit. "son of a biscuit," she mutters.