Captain Rex Artwork Novels & Stories

the artist said, a guy tatted from stem to stern with big silver gauges in his ears. Isabella rolled off the table and went to the mirror to admire the image on her ribs. A sketch outline of willowy ocotillo, flowering at the top. She smiled. "I love it." "Me too," Rex said, breathless. She flipped around and grinned. "Your turn." Rex was not nearly as graceful. He'd gotten tattoos before. A couple on his arms, ankle, back and thigh. Never ribs. He definitely would have been squirming and crying uncle if it was his first.

, Nox said into his earpiece and Rex replied back. "No Captain obvious..", Rex said sarcastically. "Hey I'm the captain now..", he said jokingly of course as Rex muttered "whatever", Nox asked him if the Ultralight speed system is still activated and Rex simply replied with "no" and told us that we're on Agnus constellation. We open the portal to the cockpit to see Rex still remain on his chair analyzing on things. Nox make his way to his seat and command "open the windows lid for the passengers." I watch all blinds are now being opened.

The curtains are half-drawn, allowing only enough light to keep the dim atmosphere. The room is at least twice the size of mine, and its walls are adorned with expensive oil paintings, each one commanding attention. My dear husband definitely took this one from his papá. Advancing into the room, I skim through the paintings. With Rex, one doesn't need telling before they pick up on his fascination with art work. It's reflected in his living space, the decorations and whatnot, and it's heavily reflected in the names he gave his kids—mine too. I take further steps into the room, the clicks of my heels completely muted by the thick rugs, and on the walls, one particular work catches my eyes.

Once the squad’s captain saw Rex approach, he came forward, bowing, “My lord, I am Captain Kemp, your squad is formed up and ready for battle.” Rex noticed instantly he looked the same as everyone else, except for a large golden feather on his helmet, “I would like you to take that feather off before this battle.” “Yes my lord, might I ask why?” Captain Kemp asked, taking off his helmet and removing the feather, holding it out to hand it to Rex. “It makes you an easy target, you stand out against everyone else in the squad, so I want you to wear this instead,” Rex said, tearing a piece of his white undershirt off his arm and tying it to his chest, making a small white knot.

I was going to carefully consider my options and make the best decision for my company. I sat back in my chair, staring out the window at the bustling city below. Life hadn't been fair for me, but I had made the most of what I had been given. My passion for art and painting made me start up my company, a place for artists to thrive and make a living. The Art Republic was what I named it. And now, it seemed like my hard work was paying off. It may seem strange for someone like me, a capo, to have a passion for something as delicate and peaceful as art, but for me, it was a way to escape the harsh reality of my life.

he replied. "So, we'll be taking my private plane and will be at our destination at exactly 1600 hours. Hop on!" he told Isabella. She was shocked to see the superior side of the Captain. He was like giving commands to his troops. "That's what you say to your co-soldiers?" she asked while giggling. "What co-soldiers? There is no such thing." he laughed at her chosen words. "Well basically yes, but I'm more stiffed and I shout most of the time when talking to them. They can't see this soft side of me. It's only for you!" Carter was very naughty. He loves teasing Isabella.

Hector glanced at her briefly, then moved on, hands still tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t in any kind of rush. Next was a large canvas painting—thick strokes of red and gold exploding out from a dark, stormy center. It looked like a sun giving birth to chaos. “This one’s supposed to be ‘emotional rebirth.’ Artist said it was about becoming a better version of yourself through suffering.” He paused. “I mostly see fire and anger. Also, it cost more than a yacht.” Jeanne’s brows lifted slightly. “You own a yacht?” “God, no. Too obvious.” He smirked. “I just like burning money more creatively.”

he asked, Klaus pushed himself up far enough from his chair to open one of his desk drawers, took out a sealed folder and tossed it in front of Peter. "The truth is, Anika is my prisoner, I will keep her captive until she gives me what I need, and if she does not return my merchandise, she will pay the consequences"

one of the worried female fae blackguards asked quietly, if it was not for Rex’s incredible hearing he would not have heard anything. “Very well captain, you look smarter than the grunts and this big guy here,” Rex said, nudging the dead commander with his foot, “You’re wasting my time, you are next on the list to die, submit or be drained of your essence like him, once you are all dead I will command my demon to invade your ancestors resting place in the spirit realm and devour the lot of you,” he continued louder so everyone could hear him, his increase in volume seemed to draw the attention of some of Telagus’s soldiers at the back of the army. Cursing quietly while shaking his head, he m

“I’m not exactly a sports person.” “You will be after tonight. The energy is addictive. Hawthorne versus Westfield is always brutal—especially because of the captains. Brad Walker versus Sebastian Hale. Pure rivalry.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sebastian Hale?” “Captain of Westfield. Tall, insanely talented, and actually a decent guy from what I’ve heard not the cocky asshole type like Brad and his crew. The stands go wild whenever he’s on the ice. Total heartthrob material.” She winked. “You’ll see why.”