Forestier let out a small chuckle in response to Detective Beaumont’s use of his first name. “You know, I always considered you my closest friend. You were there as I married Adeline. She understood how I am, and even said there was something off about you that I wasn’t seeing. I should have listened to her. Something changed in you, and I’m no longer the one people should be leery of.” Forestier wasn’t afraid to admit that he came to that specific flower shop often, even purchasing roses at times, just not for reasons one would be suspicious of. Forestier grabbed a rose, the same variety used in the killings, and just held it in his hand to observe the petals. “Recognize this? Adeline’s favorite. You can probably remember that. You knew the flower well. You were the last one with her before she became nothing more than the first name on the list of victims. Everyone has looked to me as if I killed my wife, even you, while you could just look in the mirror to find your Rose Murderer. I’m sure the manager Is preparing the flowers for you at this very moment.”
Right as Forestier places the rose in his palms, Firmin the locksmith was on his way down the street when he suddenly stopped infront of the shop. Through the window he could see two figures while one was holding his signature flower. Fearing he might get interwied by the two gentlemen who he belived were both detectives researching the only flowershop that sells the sort, he entered the shop with a plastered smile that seemed to fool the right person. He was aware if he abstained from looking at them or noticing them as he entered, they would probably get suspicious. That’s why as he entered, he made sure to only focus his attention to Miss Wells, the slightly more handsome than average woman who worked at the shop. He didn’t love her, but he fooled everybody into thinking he was a suitor for her. It was this connection that would ultimately allow him to enter the shop withouth being seen as a potentional customer and being discarded as a possible murderer. He would’ve broken the locks to get his chance to steal petals, but if he were to do that, the shopkeeper would belive him to be a bad locksmith and get another one therefore depriving him of acces to the petals.
As he approached the counter he said “Good day, Marion. I seem to be running out of flowers lately. I’m intersted if you have any flower in the shop as blue and sparkling as your eyes.” As his eyes were fixated on Marion, who smiled and turned her back to get him such a flower, his ears were occupied on the conversation between the two men.
Love this a lot, Levi, very nice. Only one small error with the last line. Yomama named the shopkeep/store manager above, his name is Bartholomew Laurens. (wink)
ORP: I know, Marion Wells is the new character, the woman who works for Bartholomew Laurens.
“Miss Wells, the slightly more handsome than average woman who worked at the shop.”
he ignored the shopkeeper and walked straight up to the woman he allegedly loves. However I did forget to mention he only entered to learn about the detectives and how the investigation is going on so he can hide more efficiently.
Cali, that was BlackBlood. The pfps threw you off
Yup. You’re right, sorry about that. I think it was more 'cause we were just talking on another thread and you were at the top of my mind. (wink) … also, would you mind please blurring your post above, just so the story post are still prominent?
Prompt Nine
Breathing in. Strong smells fill her nose. She can place one, it’s a wood smell, one you get from a wooden-finish on a newly crafted piece of furniture. The other was something chemical and even stronger in smell. It was getting to her head and stuffing her head up, causing a headache to form.
Telling herself she had open her eyes to see where she was. She couldn’t. Wait- No. They were already, it was just pitch black. Wedging her right hand out from beside her, where it had been pinned to her side, she felt around her. Wood. There were wooden walls pressed against her arm and above her, but to her left… She felt material on something rounded. Though it was cold and still. Was it human? Worse yet, was it a dead human? Was she trapped in a coffin?
""
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The realisation that the horrible tought she just had might even be the truth made her want to hurl more than that sick smell of a cold rotting body. She wanted to remove her hand from the cold skin of the recently deceased person, but for some reason she delayed it. A feeling of hopelesness fills her while she slowly starts to think of a way to get out. While deep in thought and unpleasant feelings surrounding her, she finally removed her hand of the corpse’s shoulder, but as she had to move down the person’s arm to free her own arm, her fingers came across a bracelet. If it was just any old bracelet she wouldn’t stop, but the shape and the size of it was recognized by her. Terror came across her face as she realises who it is, and decided to get out as soon as possible hoping it’s just a dream, or an horrible nightmare. She attempted to violently shake the coffin, or the place she belived was a coffin. She thought if a bypasser sees the ground shaking or hears something she might be saved, but little did she know, cementery is at least a few miles away. After a while she stopped, resstless and her body aching from shaking the coffin for a very long time, she noticed by the feel of the wood, that it is rash and not sanded, probably homemade.
ORP: I hope this is okay 
She wasn’t actually sure how she got there and why. She had no idea but she kept banging and yelling nonetheless. Ignoring the body next to her, she made as much noise as she could until her fingers felt very raw.
Fortunately, someone must have heard her, because a voice responded. “Is someone in there?” Despite being in a coffin, she heard the voice clearly, which told her that she couldn’t have been buried in the ground. She felt relieved.
Please, @RPers, help us to continue this prompt’s story?!
“Yes, yes, I’m in here! Please… help me!”
“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The voice got louder, probably approaching the coffin. The person outside knocked on the coffin several times. The knocks echoed throughout the coffin, making you keenly aware of how small the space was. “I really wish you were out of there. Then we could have some fun.” The voice sounded menacing. “You’re stuck in there, and I’m going to bury you.”
So many questions raced through her head. Was there anyone else nearby? Perhaps if she banged more on the coffin and shouted, someone might notice that she was stuck in the coffin. One the other hand, there might be no one around for miles. If there wasn’t anybody close by… shouldn’t she save the energy? Try to escape when no one else was nearby? Why is this happening to me?
The coffin shook as it was lifted up, jolting her into the side of the coffin. Where am I going? The shock of the situation almost made her forget the corpse laying beside her.
Just adding a tag
“Please! Don’t do this!” she cried. Her mind was fuzzy, as hard as she tried she couldn’t recall how she wound up in the coffin. She was sore from being jostled within the coffin and from trying to get out, or were her aching head and pains from before, in the time she couldn’t remember. Resting her hand by her side, she brushed against the arm of the body beside her once again. It was a male, and by the bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet she had given him, she knew who it was. She could trace each scar, knowing every inch of his now cold, lifeless skin by heart. Tears had begun to build in her eyes, from hurting physically, mentally, and emotionally. “Why, why are you doing this? What did you do to him? Who are you?!”
A menacing laugh could be heard from outside the coffin, before the voice spoke up again. She still had no idea who it was outside of the wooden box, but all she could place was that she had heard the voice previously. Whether it was someone she knew, or someone she had merely heard during the events leading up to being locked in the coffin, she couldn’t make out. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but plans change. He wasn’t supposed to be here, so you get to die by his side.”
Prompt Ten
A zap of electricity in a heartbeat and a wooden frame of a doorway appeared out of nowhere with the smell of burning wood. A passerby could see through to the other side, see the scene that was still there before the door frame appeared. Luckily, no one was around to see such sorcery.
Then, despite not being able to see anyone on the other side of the frame, a cowboy boot stepped through followed by the rest of its body. A second cowboy walked through just seconds after and then the door frame disappeared as fast as it came.
Dusting himself off of sand and dust, the second cowboy asked, “What’s the time, Detective Norwood?”
The first cowboy, Shaun Norwood, jerked his head round. “Yeah, give me a minute, Detective Kwan.” He pulled out an antique timepiece and looked at it. “June 20th, 1983.”
“Don’t suppose it can tell you what the mystery is that’s here?”
“You know my answer to that, Kwan,” Norwood responded with a sigh as he put the timepiece away. "Let’s just find some clothes more fitting of the time.
""
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The two cowboys looked around, taking in their surroundings. They were standing on the side of the road, in sand. Looking ahead, both men could see a town in the distance. Glancing at each other briefly, the two of them made their way towards the town in tandem.
They soon entered the town, looking around at the buildings until they saw one that appeared to sell clothing. There were few people walking around, but most of them didn’t pay attention to the two oddly dressed men making their way down the street. Everyone they came across seemed to hurry along, their faces tight and worried, lost in their thoughts. Norwood took all of this in, puzzling over it in his mind. He would think that two cowboys would be something to stare at, but the people seemed like they hadn’t something else to worry about…
Norwood and Kwan stopped, directly in front of a store. Rebecca’s, was the name etched on the sign above the doors. Through the window, Norwood could see two women conversing, the larger of the two crying as she spoke and the other laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. They were too far a way to make out what was being said, but whatever it was, the woman was clearly distraught. Norwood pushed open the door, bells ringing as he entered. The women looked up abruptly, the larger one turning away to dab her eyes with tissue. The other woman adopted a large smile, chirping out, “Welcome to Rebecca’s, darlin’! How can we help you?”
Kwan approached the woman, taking in her small frame and long blonde hair. “You’re Rebecca?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, I’m Katie.” She places a hand on the other woman’s shoulder, slightly moving her to face the two men. This woman had regained her composure and now she had a small smile on her face. “This is Rebecca,” Katie said, beaming.
Kwan nodded, taking this information in. “Well, if we need you ladies, we’ll make sure to ask,” he said, turning to the racks of clothing. Katie nodded, then she and Rebecca went back to their conversation, their voices low.
Kwan and Norwood each gathered some clothes to try on, before heading to the fitting rooms to try them on. In Kwan’s changing room, he was looking at himself in the mirror when he noticed it was crooked. Kwan, a perfectionist, was bothered by these sorts of things so obviously his first thought was to do Rebecca a favour and fix it. He adjusted the mirror, but it wouldn’t straighten itself out. He took it off the nail it was positioned on, meaning to look at its back to properly align it, when he noticed that there was a compartment in the wall. He frowned, setting the mirror aside and fiddling with the compartment until it popped open.
A few hundred dollars was inside, which Kwan thought was one of the oddest places to have a safety deposit box if that’s what it was. A few minutes passed by as Kwan stood there estimating how much was there when he heard a banging on his cubicle door, followed by, “Kwan, yeh done in there.” It was from Shaun.
“Neary, Norwood, just about,” Kwan replied, closing the compartment back up and placing the mirror perfectly on the wall again. He finished changing and hastily pulled back the curtain to face a patient Shaun. “Let’s pay and talk outside. I have reason to believe the mystery is here.”
“Eh?!”, exclaimed Shaun. “How did yeh come to that while putting on a shirt?”
Please, @RPers, help us to continue this prompt’s story?!
“I’ll explain it to you once we’re outside and no one can hear us, let’s go.”
The two men quickly went to pay for their stuff. The women were still there but Rebecca had stopped crying by now.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?”, Katie asked them politely.
But before either of them could reply, an angry looking man rushed inside trough the entrance.
He pointed a gun at Rebecca.
“Where did you hide my money?”
sorry for not writing a lot 
The unknown man’s yell echoed in the small store. Poor old lady Rebecca literally was trembling in fear like a chihuahua and seemed to have been at the edge of a panic attack as the agitated man started his rampage. He shuffled the clothes on the racks throwing them away at the floor like rubbish, pushing the cashbox and other things on the counters away frantically with his left hand keeping the navy revolver in the his right hand still pointed at the two old ladies. Katie held onto Rebecca for dear life with a pale face, both shocked, scared, numb and speechless.
Meanwhile, Kwan and Norwood stood beside the entrance, shocked and confuzzeled. Kwan did know where the man could find his money but looking at his expensive attire and rude and snobby rampaging behaviour made him frown in disgust.
“TELL ME WHERE MY FREAKIN’ MONEY IS YOU OLD W*NCHES! OR I’M GONNA MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!”, the man bellowed again.
“This seems like some serious robbery sh*t”, Norwood whispered to Kwan, concerned about their own situation since they were completely unarmed. “You know, I’ll get us outta here with this watch, if we’re in serious trouble.”, he added to which Kwan raised his eyebrow. “Not so fast…”, he mumbled. Kwan, however felt bad for the ladies. So he decided to help the man. He cleared his throat to gain the man’s attention. “Ahem… Mister, I think I know where your money is–”.
“NO!”, Rebecca shouted.
“Shut up, you w^nch!”, The man yelled at her and locked his stern gaze at Kwan, “And who the h*ll are you, pretty lad?”, he asked, in pure disgust.
^^^
Any more, @RPers? Sorry, was busy this week and forgot to post a new prompt.
As the man turned on Kwan, he left his gun trained on the women. Kwan paused, his eyes moving to look at Rebecca, who was fervently shaking her head. His lips parted briefly, before closing again without him saying anything. The man was angered at the lack of response and he moved the gun so it was pressed against Kwan’s forehead. Kwan inhaled sharply, raising his hands as you do when there is a gun pointed at you.
“I SAID, WHO ARE YOU?” The man yelled in Kwan’s face. Norwood stepped closer to the man, but he noticed and the gun swivelled to point at the other cowboy. “Don’t take another step,” the man said, his voice more controlled but still tense with anger.
“We’re just… visitin’,” Kwan said, glancing quickly at Norwood. “I’m Ethan, and this is… my buddy, Shaun.”
The man’s eyes danced between the two, suspicion crawling up his face. After a pause, he grabbed hold of Kwan’s sleeve and pressed the gun to the side of his head. “Rebecca, tell me where my money is or this man dies.”
Norwood’s eyes widened, and he moved slightly towards Kwan. “Hey, sir, let’s not be haste—”
The man’s grip tightened around the gun and he glared menacingly at Norwood. “I MEAN IT.”
Rebecca was still with Katie, except she was now visibly shaking. “Richie—”
He growled, tightening his hold of Kwan. “His blood will be on your hands and they will come for you, you know they will. So for the last time. Give me. My f-cking. Money.”
After a short second, Rebecca moved for the changeroom Kwan had been earlier. When she re-emerged, she was holding the box that Kwan had been earlier. Richie let go of Kwan, who took a staggering step back, and walked to Rebecca, taking the box from her grip. He flipped through the bills, nodding. “They’ll… stop terrosizing the town, right?” Rebecca asked, wiping a tear from her eyes. “The boys’ll be returned? …We’re safe?”
Richie nods and exits the store, but as soon as the door closes, he is shot, the box falling from his hands and his body crumpling to the floor.
I’m really sorry I write so much I get carried away >.>
Prompt Eleven
We all know the phrase, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?”
Well, for Lucie, it’s nothing shy of the truth. At the age of 11, she broke her leg and noticed that it not only grew back stronger but she was now able to jump over five feet vertically on it. Small cuts would seem to heal back with a second skin that was practically invulnerable. Though it wasn’t until a few years later, at the age of 14, that her real powers kicked in. However, they came when she fell deathly ill from a tropical disease on a holiday to Bali with her family. Upon recovery, she had super speed and complete regenerative abilities, which gave her total fearlessness.
During the day, she lives her secret identity as a paralegal for a criminal law firm, but at night, she uses those contacts to put criminal organisations behind bars, and tonight was no different…
""
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