Board Thread:Clubs/@comment-44390494-20200109205641/@comment-98.114.242.209-20200128013022

Ok, ok, so I'm currently testing an idea out, and I've written around three pages of my first chapter. It's definitely not complete, but I just wanted to know if there are any errors/if you think I should change anything. Oh, and whenever I put, that just means I haven't really thought of a good name for that yet. Don't ask me why, but that's just what I do. xd

Chapter One

Edward Miller was having a good day. His elegant midnight suit-and-tie combination complimented his posh ego, and with the expensive fit he wore an excited expression that was rarely put on by the man. Granted, he was the president of the entire nation of ~Edward's nation~ which gave him utmost respect and amenities that even the richest wished for, but today was a special day. Today Edward Miller would secure a deal with ~some other country~ for billions of dollars in exchange for his highest medics. An epidemic had broken loose overseas, and the  were desperate for a trade. Foolish for the , but Edward was not one to turn down a sweet deal.

A servant passed the president, immediately dropping down to her knees with a graceful bow. Her face bore both youth and confidence, though the latter faltered as she faced the man. “Anything to drink, Your Excellency?” Her gingery hair fell out of the neat bunches on her head. Surely, such an action would result in major consequences at any day, but in front of the ruler of the Nation? Some would even call it a sin. Edward gave her a smug look and gave a dismissive gesture. He was not in the mood for flattery. Although, he did need to loosen up before the meeting. And what better way to have fun than to torment a pretty young lady?

“Actually,” he started, startling the woman so hard that she nearly dropped the plates in her hand. Edward enjoyed the fearful expression painted over her delicate features; it gave him reassurance that he was ruling right. “An old-fashioned cocktail sounds divine. How I enjoy the delicacies of the Meghalayan age. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course, Your Excellency. Will that be it, Your Excellency?”

“Extra sugar, darlin’. We wouldn’t want a katzenjammer '''[I was feeling fancy, ok? xd]''' happening any time soon.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“What’s your name?”

“Pardon?”

“Was I in any way not clear?”

The woman hesitated. “Marabelle, Your Excellency.”

“Marabelle.” Edward reached out and tugged a strand of hair that swayed loose. The servant froze, paralyzed with fear—something she also wasn’t allowed to do. Edward leaned forward until his lips were right against her ear, audible to her and only her. “I’d suggest you learn your place, Marabelle. I’d hate to throw you into the Chamber all over again.”  Edward straightened his back and clicked his tongue. “You’ve kept me here long enough. Expect a full report to your ~I want to say master but I don't know if that implies race or not~.” Of course, he had no intention doing such a thing—he had much more important deeds than obsessing over a poorly-picked servant. Though it did bring him joy that he could spark horror through a few words.

Edward sidestepped Marabelle, and continued through the now-empty halls. He was reaching a point that only the Seven Leaders *I need a better name for this* knew of; a place that would severely categorize Edward’s position, had someone found it out. Thankfully, it was at the center of the whole continent, so anyone that shouldn’t be there would be blasted to pieces. The mere thought of anyone suffering made Edward giddy.

“Password,” a raspy voice called through the wall where Edward put his hand.

“Come on now, Helda,” Edward replied in his oily voice. “You know me.”

“Password, you dimwitted ***.”

“You dare call me—”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t have all day. Judging by the group that arrived ten minutes earlier, neither do you.”

Edward muttered a bunch of curses, and finally grumbled a series of words. The ground started to shake until Edward faced four men at a table, and a very short woman.

“You’ll pay for that,” he grumbled at Helda.

“Nice to see you too.”

“Mr. Miller!” the man on the far right interrupted. “The term ‘fashionably late’ shouldn’t be taken so seriously, old friend.” He gave a hearty laugh, gesturing to Edward’s suit, and shook hands with the president.

“Ah, yes, George,” Edward sneered. “Always a pleasure. I will say, I’d rather not take fashion advice from you. My closet would be filled with gas masks!” He chuckled as the other men, George’s council, shifted uncomfortably.

“Right to business as always? No complimentary drinks?” George looked expectantly at Helda.

“Of course.” Edward waved his hand, and the woman grumbled off to make them some alcoholic beverage.

That's... sort of it. Thoughts? xd

~ Evelina