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<center><div class="stayopen"><div class="stay1">
<div class="ic0n3"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/9WK5tgX.png">
<div class="taggi3">tag: ALEXANDER NOVIKOV</div></div>
<div class="gimmeluv">
Despite the overcast weather outside, Ollie made a point of dressing herself in her usual outdoor attire that included a heavy hooded coat, gloves, and the largest sunglasses she could find after her arrival on the island. Unfortunately, she hadn't thought to bring a parasol, one of her own or one she had picked up from the local stores- so she had to go without that particular accessory. Stepping outside, she adjusted her large sunglasses on her face and cast her eyes towards the sky.
</br>
"Looks like it's going to be a dark day..." she muttered this to herself before stepping out into the fullness of the outdoors and making her way towards the path that would lead her to the downtown area. She had planned to visit the local village the day before, but had become caught up with homework and had chosen to stay in and finish before making anymore busying decisions. Today, however, was a free day- no classes, no homework, no prior engagements- the day was hers and that meant stepping out on her own to pick up the few things she felt she needed for her dorm room or for herself personally. As she walked, her mind slowly drifted into casual thought- a slight wonder what would be for dinner, a small guess as to where her cousin could be hiding- it was all very meaningless to her at the moment, but it gave her something to focus on while she journeyed into the shopping district of the downtown village.
</br>
Upon arriving, she stopped to give the shops and buildings a decent sweep of her eyes, tipping her sunglasses down for a moment as she gave everything a good once over before sliding them back up the bridge of her nose. There was nothing particularly interesting around, although she did spy a shop that would need visiting on a later date, so she continued onward.
</br>
Walking into this store and that, she managed to grab the few items that she knew she needed and even picked up a few that she didn't- on her way out of the local deli, lunch in tow, she paused and stared out into the sitting area where a few villagers were enjoying their lunches. There was something about her trip into the village that hadn't quite settled with her- a feeling of uneasiness or one of being watched that she hadn't really grasped until that moment. Thinking back on it, she tried to grab at a common denominator, something that she had sensed with her inner eye rather than her outer, and turned her head to find it staring her pointedly in the face.
</br>
A signature.
</br>
A name, whatever you wanted to call it, was scrawled across the side wall to one of the adjacent stores. Pulling her sunglasses off completely and tucking them high on her head, she approached the signature, getting the same awkward feeling that had haunted her her entire visit out.
</br>
"What a peculiar name...for a store," she whispered this under her breath as she eyed the scrawl and then leaned past the wall and tried to read the name off of sign above the actual entry way, "Mythical...Pets- oh, /that's/ not the name of the store.
</br>
"Then who-" Stepping back to face the signature once more, she reached her hand out for it, but paused. Thinking instead that her hunger was outweighing her curiosity at the moment and that it'd be best for her to revisit the peculiar mark after her meal. That being said, she stepped back from the wall and moved towards one of the tables- seating herself at the stand, she unwrapped the sandwich contained within the paper bag and ate. Her meal was good, but, distracted as she couldn't bring herself from glancing over her shoulder at the impression on the wall behind her.
</br>
It was simple enough; black paint, or some form of chipping material, scrawled along the wall as a script she couldn't quiet make out. A name- she assumed- but not one she had seen repeated anywhere in anything she had read or been shown. It occurred to her that it might be merely the marked name of the one who sponsored or owned "Mythical Pets" or that it was merely a discarded shard of graffiti- but then it probably wouldn't be giving her such an uneasy feeling as it was now- it wasn't even the unknown factor of whatever the script could be, but the eye. Beside the short scribble of what could have been letters was a dark red eye. Even biting into her sandwich, she felt like she was being watched- observed by someone on the opposite end of the wall or whichever end that signature seemed to be connected to. Brushing it off for the moment, she finished her meal, deposited the remains into the bin and went on her way- deciding to ignore the signature on the wall and continue her adventure through the village as the sky was beginning to clear and already she could feel the light of the day burning her eyes, something that forced her to tip her sunglasses back down onto her nose.
</br>
The rest of her trip was uneventful, she visited store after store in search of a simple parasol, but found none. What she did find, or notice, was that the script from before and that leering eye were everywhere. Whether it was in its full form or in variations of it, she was beginning to feel followed; as unintentional as it might have been.
</br>
On her way out of the last store of her trip, she stopped and eyed the stalked autograph that appeared, this time, on the side of a dumpster. Working up her courage, she set her mouth in a thin line and reproached the mark- this time reaching out to it with about as much bravery as someone who was about to shove their hand into a lion's mouth.
</br>
When her fingers made contact with the metallic chill of the empty dumpster, and thus the signature, she felt a strange darkness wash over her and her mind went blank-
</div></div></div><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=7361"><div style="float: right: font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase;">? THANKS! </div></a></center>
.stayopen { width: 420px; padding: 5px; background-color: #eee; border: 1px solid #ccc; overflow: hidden; }
.stay1 { width: 380px; padding: 20px; background-color: #fff; box-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #ccc; overflow: hidden; }
.ic0n3 { width: 100px; height: 100px; background-color: #eee; margin-left: 9px; margin-bottom: 3px; padding: 3px; border: 1px solid #ccc; float: right; transition:width 1s, height 1s, transform 1s; -webkit-transition:width 1s, height 1s, -webkit-transform 1s; overflow: hidden; }
.ic0n3 img { width: 100px; height: 100px; }
.ic0n3 .taggi3 { margin-left: -200px; margin-top: -40px; position: relative; width: 80px; background-color: #fff; padding: 7px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 7px; text-align: center; line-height: 100%; text-transform: uppercase; color: #333; box-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #ccc; letter-spacing: 1px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-transition:width 1s, height 1s, -webkit-transform 1s; -webkit-transition: all 1s ease-in-out; -moz-transition: all 1s ease-in-out; -o-transition: all 1s ease-in-out; transition: all 1s ease-in-out; }
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.gimmeluv { width: 380px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 9px; line-height: 120%; color: #555; }
.gimmeluv b { color: #a3b070 }
.gimmeluv i { color: #a3b070 }
.gimmeluv s { color: #a3b070 }
</style>
<center><div class="stayopen"><div class="stay1">
<div class="ic0n3"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/9WK5tgX.png">
<div class="taggi3">tag: ALEXANDER NOVIKOV</div></div>
<div class="gimmeluv">
Despite the overcast weather outside, Ollie made a point of dressing herself in her usual outdoor attire that included a heavy hooded coat, gloves, and the largest sunglasses she could find after her arrival on the island. Unfortunately, she hadn't thought to bring a parasol, one of her own or one she had picked up from the local stores- so she had to go without that particular accessory. Stepping outside, she adjusted her large sunglasses on her face and cast her eyes towards the sky.
</br>
"Looks like it's going to be a dark day..." she muttered this to herself before stepping out into the fullness of the outdoors and making her way towards the path that would lead her to the downtown area. She had planned to visit the local village the day before, but had become caught up with homework and had chosen to stay in and finish before making anymore busying decisions. Today, however, was a free day- no classes, no homework, no prior engagements- the day was hers and that meant stepping out on her own to pick up the few things she felt she needed for her dorm room or for herself personally. As she walked, her mind slowly drifted into casual thought- a slight wonder what would be for dinner, a small guess as to where her cousin could be hiding- it was all very meaningless to her at the moment, but it gave her something to focus on while she journeyed into the shopping district of the downtown village.
</br>
Upon arriving, she stopped to give the shops and buildings a decent sweep of her eyes, tipping her sunglasses down for a moment as she gave everything a good once over before sliding them back up the bridge of her nose. There was nothing particularly interesting around, although she did spy a shop that would need visiting on a later date, so she continued onward.
</br>
Walking into this store and that, she managed to grab the few items that she knew she needed and even picked up a few that she didn't- on her way out of the local deli, lunch in tow, she paused and stared out into the sitting area where a few villagers were enjoying their lunches. There was something about her trip into the village that hadn't quite settled with her- a feeling of uneasiness or one of being watched that she hadn't really grasped until that moment. Thinking back on it, she tried to grab at a common denominator, something that she had sensed with her inner eye rather than her outer, and turned her head to find it staring her pointedly in the face.
</br>
A signature.
</br>
A name, whatever you wanted to call it, was scrawled across the side wall to one of the adjacent stores. Pulling her sunglasses off completely and tucking them high on her head, she approached the signature, getting the same awkward feeling that had haunted her her entire visit out.
</br>
"What a peculiar name...for a store," she whispered this under her breath as she eyed the scrawl and then leaned past the wall and tried to read the name off of sign above the actual entry way, "Mythical...Pets- oh, /that's/ not the name of the store.
</br>
"Then who-" Stepping back to face the signature once more, she reached her hand out for it, but paused. Thinking instead that her hunger was outweighing her curiosity at the moment and that it'd be best for her to revisit the peculiar mark after her meal. That being said, she stepped back from the wall and moved towards one of the tables- seating herself at the stand, she unwrapped the sandwich contained within the paper bag and ate. Her meal was good, but, distracted as she couldn't bring herself from glancing over her shoulder at the impression on the wall behind her.
</br>
It was simple enough; black paint, or some form of chipping material, scrawled along the wall as a script she couldn't quiet make out. A name- she assumed- but not one she had seen repeated anywhere in anything she had read or been shown. It occurred to her that it might be merely the marked name of the one who sponsored or owned "Mythical Pets" or that it was merely a discarded shard of graffiti- but then it probably wouldn't be giving her such an uneasy feeling as it was now- it wasn't even the unknown factor of whatever the script could be, but the eye. Beside the short scribble of what could have been letters was a dark red eye. Even biting into her sandwich, she felt like she was being watched- observed by someone on the opposite end of the wall or whichever end that signature seemed to be connected to. Brushing it off for the moment, she finished her meal, deposited the remains into the bin and went on her way- deciding to ignore the signature on the wall and continue her adventure through the village as the sky was beginning to clear and already she could feel the light of the day burning her eyes, something that forced her to tip her sunglasses back down onto her nose.
</br>
The rest of her trip was uneventful, she visited store after store in search of a simple parasol, but found none. What she did find, or notice, was that the script from before and that leering eye were everywhere. Whether it was in its full form or in variations of it, she was beginning to feel followed; as unintentional as it might have been.
</br>
On her way out of the last store of her trip, she stopped and eyed the stalked autograph that appeared, this time, on the side of a dumpster. Working up her courage, she set her mouth in a thin line and reproached the mark- this time reaching out to it with about as much bravery as someone who was about to shove their hand into a lion's mouth.
</br>
When her fingers made contact with the metallic chill of the empty dumpster, and thus the signature, she felt a strange darkness wash over her and her mind went blank-
</div></div></div><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=7361"><div style="float: right: font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase;">? THANKS! </div></a></center>