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Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
my other thread was getting too crowded , so i
made a new one . big deal , right ?

steal and i end you .
AndrogynousFox's avatar

Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
LETTERS

α в ¢ ∂ є ƒ g н ι נ к ℓ м η σ ρ q я ѕ т υ ν ω χ у z

ɑ ɒ ʙ ɓ ɔ ɕ ɖ ɗ ɘ ə ɚ ɛ ɜ ɝ ɞ ɟ ɠ ɡ ɢ ʛ ɥ ɦ ɧ ɨ ɩ ɪ ʝ ɫ ɬ ɭ ɮ ɯ ɰ ɱ ɲ ɳ ɴ ɴ ʀ ʁ ʂ ʈ ʉ ʊ ʋ ʌ ʍ ɣ ɤ ʎ ʐ ʑ

α Ⴆ ƈ ԃ ҽ ϝ ɠ ԋ ι ʝ ƙ ʅ ɱ ɳ σ ρ ϙ ɾ ʂ ƚ υ ʋ ɯ x ყ ȥ
α в c ɔ ε ғ ɢ н ı נ κ ʟ м п σ ρ ǫ я ƨ т υ ν ш х ч z
α в ¢ đ e f g ħ ı נ κ ł м и ø ρ q я š т υ ν ω χ ч z
α ß ς d ε ƒ g h ï յ κ レ m η ⊕ p Ω r š † u ∀ ω x ψ z
z ʎ x ʍ ʌ n ʇ s ɹ b d o u ɯ ן ʞ ſ ı 4 ƃ ɟ ǝ p ɔ q ɐ
ɒ ʚ ɔ α ɘ ʇ ϱ н ı į ʞ l м и o q p я ƨ т υ v ω x γ z
[̲̅a̲̅] [̲̅b̲̅] [̲̅c̲̅] [̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅e̲̅] [̲̅f̲̅] [̲̅g̲̅] [̲̅h̲̅] [̲̅i̲̅] [̲̅j̲̅] [̲̅k̲̅] [̲̅l̲̅] [̲̅m̲̅] [̲̅n̲̅] [̲̅o̲̅] [̲̅p̲̅] [̲̅q̲̅] [̲̅r̲̅] [̲̅s̲̅] [̲̅t̲̅] [̲̅u̲̅] [̲̅v̲̅] [̲̅w̲̅] [̲̅x̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅] z
z ʎ x ʍ ʌ n ʇ s ɹ b d o u ɯ ן ʞ ɾ ı ɥ ƃ ɟ ǝ p ɔ q ɐ
Λ ß Ƈ D Ɛ F Ɠ Ĥ Ī Ĵ Ҡ Ŀ M И ♡ Ṗ Ҩ Ŕ S Ƭ Ʊ Ѵ Ѡ Ӿ Y Z
ƛ Ɓ Ƈ Ɗ Є Ƒ Ɠ Ӈ Ɩ ʆ Ƙ Լ M Ɲ Ơ Ƥ Ƣ Ʀ Ƨ Ƭ Ʋ Ɣ Ɯ Ҳ Ƴ Ȥ
|̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿| |̶͇̿ ̶͇̿ ̶͇̿) |͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿ |͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿) |̶͇̿ ̶͇̿ ͇̿ |̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿ |͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿ ̶͇̿ι |̶ ̶ ̶ ̶| | ͇ ͇͇͇͇|| < |͇ ͇ |̿ V ̿||̿ ͇||͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿||̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿' |͇̿ ͇̿ ͇̿ ͇͇̿|͇ |̿ ̿ ̿ ͇ ͇̿ ̿ ̿ ̿|̿ ̿ |͇ ͇ ͇ ͇ ͇| ͇ / |͇ Λ ͇|X Y ̿ ̿/ ͇ ͇
ᴬᴮᶜᴰᴱᶠᴳᴴᴵᴶᴷᴸᴹᴺᴼᴾᵠᴿˁᵀᵁᵛᵂˣʸᶻ
ᵃᵇᶜᵈᵉᶠᵍʰᶤʲᵏˡᵐᶰᵒᵖᵠʳˢᵗᵘᵛʷˣʸᶻ

𝔞 𝔟 𝔠 𝔡 𝔢 𝔣 𝔤 𝔥 𝔦 𝔧 𝔨 𝔩 𝔪 𝔫 𝔬 𝔭 𝔮 𝔯 𝔰 𝔱 𝔲 𝔳 𝔴 𝔵 𝔶 𝔷
𝖆 𝖇 𝖈 𝖉 𝖊 𝖋 𝖌 𝖍 𝖎 𝖏 𝖐 𝖑 𝖒 𝖓 𝖔 𝖕 𝖖 𝖗 𝖘 𝖙 𝖚 𝖛 𝖜 𝖝 𝖞 𝖟

𝔄 𝔅 ℭ 𝔇 𝔈 𝔉 𝔊 ℌ ℑ 𝔍 𝔎 𝔏 𝔐 𝔑 𝔒 𝔓 𝔔 ℜ 𝔖 𝔗 𝔘 𝔙 𝔚 𝔛 𝔜 ℨ
𝕬 𝕭 𝕮 𝕯 𝕰 𝕱 𝕲 𝕳 𝕴 𝕵 𝕶 𝕷 𝕸 𝕹 𝕺 𝕻 𝕼 𝕽 𝕾 𝕿 𝖀 𝖁 𝖂 𝖃 𝖄 𝖅

α в c ם/∂/δ є ғ ɢ н ι נ к ℓ м и σ ρ q я s т υ v ω x ץ/ч z

Ⓐ Ⓑ Ⓒ Ⓓ Ⓔ Ⓕ Ⓖ Ⓗ Ⓘ Ⓙ Ⓚ Ⓛ Ⓜ Ⓝ Ⓞ Ⓟ Ⓠ Ⓡ Ⓢ Ⓣ Ⓤ Ⓥ Ⓦ Ⓧ Ⓨ Ⓩ

ⓐ ⓑ ⓒ ⓓ ⓔ ⓕ ⓖ ⓗ ⓘ ⓙ ⓚ ⓛ ⓜ ⓝ ⓞ ⓟ ⓠ ⓡ ⓢ ⓣ ⓤ ⓥ ⓦ ⓧ ⓨ ⓩ

⒜ ⒝ ⒞ ⒟ ⒠ ⒡ ⒢ ⒣ ⒤ ⒥ ⒦ ⒧ ⒨ ⒩ ⒪ ⒫ ⒬ ⒭ ⒮ ⒯ ⒰ ⒱ ⒲ ⒳ ⒴ ⒵

a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

₳ Ҍ ₡ € Ҽ ₲ ₣ ₭ Ҝ ₤ ₥ ₦ ₱ ₮ ₩ Ӽ Đ

Ҥ Ҕ Ѵ Ͽ Ͼ Ϯ ϰ ϱ Ϟ ξ ζ Ξ ͽ ͼ ǂ

a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
α в c ∂ є ƒ g н ι נ к ℓ м η σ ρ q я ѕ т υ ν ω χ у z
ᴀ ʙ c ᴅ ᴇ ғ ԍ н ι נ κ ʟ м ɴ o ᴘ ʀ s т u v w ʏ x z
online offline ONLINE OFFLINE
𝐚 𝐛 𝐜 𝐝 𝐞 𝐟 𝐠 𝐡 𝐢 𝐣 𝐤 𝐥 𝐦 𝐧 𝐨 𝐩 𝐪 𝐫 𝐬 𝐭 𝐮 𝐯 𝐰 𝐱 𝐲 𝐳

𝐴 𝐵 𝐶 𝐷 𝐸 𝐹 𝐺 𝐻 𝐼 𝐽 𝐾 𝐿 𝑀 𝑁 𝑂 𝑃 𝑄 𝑅 𝑆 𝑇 𝑈 𝑉 𝑊 𝑋 𝑌 𝑍
𝑎 𝑏 𝑐 𝑑 𝑒 𝑓 𝑔 𝑖 𝑗 𝑘 𝑙 𝑚 𝑛 𝑜 𝑝 𝑞 𝑟 𝑠 𝑡 𝑢 𝑣 𝑤 𝑥 𝑦 𝑧

𝑨 𝑩 𝑪 𝑫 𝑬 𝑭 𝑮 𝑯 𝑰 𝑱 𝑲 𝑳 𝑴 𝑵 𝑶 𝑷 𝑸 𝑹 𝑺 𝑻 𝑼 𝑽 𝑾 𝑿 𝒀 𝒁
𝒂 𝒃 𝒄 𝒅 𝒆 𝒇 𝒈 𝒉 𝒊 𝒋 𝒌 𝒍 𝒎 𝒏 𝒐 𝒑 𝒒 𝒓 𝒔 𝒕 𝒖 𝒗 𝒘 𝒙 𝒚 𝒛

𝒜 𝒞 𝒟 𝒢 𝒥 𝒦 𝒩 𝒪 𝒫 𝒬 𝒮 𝒯 𝒰 𝒱 𝒲 𝒳 𝒴 𝒵
𝒶 𝒷 𝒸 𝒹 𝒻 𝒽 𝒾 𝒿 𝓀 𝓁 𝓂 𝓃 𝓅 𝓆 𝓇 𝓈 𝓉 𝓊 𝓋 𝓌 𝓍 𝓎 𝓏

𝓐 𝓑 𝓒 𝓓 𝓔 𝓕 𝓖 𝓗 𝓘 𝓙 𝓚 𝓛 𝓜 𝓝 𝓞 𝓟 𝓠 𝓡 𝓢 𝓣 𝓤 𝓥 𝓦 𝓧 𝓨 𝓩
𝓪 𝓫 𝓬 𝓭 𝓮 𝓯 𝓰 𝓱 𝓲 𝓳 𝓴 𝓵 𝓶 𝓷 𝓸 𝓹 𝓺 𝓻 𝓼 𝓽 𝓾 𝓿 𝔀 𝔁 𝔂 𝔃

𝔄 𝔅 ℭ 𝔇 𝔈 𝔉 𝔊 ℌ ℑ 𝔍 𝔎 𝔏 𝔐 𝔑 𝔒 𝔓 𝔔 ℜ 𝔖 𝔗 𝔘 𝔙 𝔚 𝔛 𝔜 ℨ
𝕬 𝕭 𝕮 𝕯 𝕰 𝕱 𝕲 𝕳 𝕴 𝕵 𝕶 𝕷 𝕸 𝕹 𝕺 𝕻 𝕼 𝕽 𝕾 𝕿 𝖀 𝖁 𝖂 𝖃 𝖄 𝖅
𝖆 𝖇 𝖈 𝖉 𝖊 𝖋 𝖌 𝖍 𝖎 𝖏 𝖐 𝖑 𝖒 𝖓 𝖔 𝖕 𝖖 𝖗 𝖘 𝖙 𝖚 𝖛 𝖜 𝖝 𝖞 𝖟
𝔞 𝔟 𝔠 𝔡 𝔢 𝔣 𝔤 𝔥 𝔦 𝔧 𝔨 𝔩 𝔪 𝔫 𝔬 𝔭 𝔮 𝔯 𝔰 𝔱 𝔲 𝔳 𝔴 𝔵 𝔶 𝔷

𝔸 𝔹 𝔻 𝔼 𝔽 𝔾 𝕀 𝕁 𝕂 𝕃 𝕄 𝕆 𝕊 𝕋 𝕌 𝕍 𝕎 𝕏 𝕐
𝕒 𝕓 𝕔 𝕕 𝕖 𝕗 𝕘 𝕙 𝕚 𝕛 𝕜 𝕝 𝕞 𝕟 𝕠 𝕡 𝕢 𝕣 𝕤 𝕥 𝕦 𝕧 𝕨 𝕩 𝕪 𝕫
𝕬 𝕭 𝕮 𝕯 𝕰 𝕱 𝕲 𝕳 𝕴 𝕵 𝕶 𝕷 𝕸 𝕹 𝕺 𝕻 𝕼 𝕽 𝕾 𝕿 𝖀 𝖁 𝖂 𝖃 𝖄 𝖅
𝖆 𝖇 𝖈 𝖉 𝖊 𝖋 𝖌 𝖍 𝖎 𝖏 𝖐 𝖑 𝖒 𝖓 𝖔 𝖕 𝖖 𝖗 𝖘 𝖙 𝖚 𝖛 𝖜 𝖝 𝖞 𝖟
𝖠 𝖡 𝖢 𝖣 𝖤 𝖥 𝖦 𝖧 𝖨 𝖩 𝖪 𝖫 𝖬 𝖭 𝖮 𝖯 𝖰 𝖱 𝖲 𝖳 𝖴 𝖵 𝖶 𝖷 𝖸 𝖹
𝖺 𝖻 𝖼 𝖽 𝖾 𝖿 𝗀 𝗁 𝗂 𝗃 𝗄 𝗅 𝗆 𝗇 𝗈 𝗉 𝗊 𝗋 𝗌 𝗍 𝗎 𝗐 𝗑 𝗒 𝗓
𝗔 𝗕 𝗖 𝗗 𝗘 𝗙 𝗚 𝗛 𝗜 𝗝 𝗞 𝗟 𝗠 𝗡 𝗢 𝗣 𝗤 𝗥 𝗦 𝗧 𝗨 𝗩 𝗪 𝗫 𝗬 𝗭
𝗮 𝗯 𝗰 𝗱 𝗲 𝗳 𝗴 𝗵 𝗶 𝗷 𝗸 𝗹 𝗺 𝗻 𝗼 𝗽 𝗾 𝗿 𝘀 𝘁 𝘂 𝘃 𝘄 𝘅 𝘆 𝘇
𝘈𝘉𝘊𝘋𝘌𝘍𝘎𝘏𝘐𝘑𝘒𝘓𝘔𝘕𝘖𝘗𝘘𝘙𝘚𝘛𝘜𝘝𝘞𝘟𝘠𝘡
𝘢𝘣𝘤𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘫𝘬𝘭𝘮𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘲𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘷𝘸𝘹𝘺𝘻
𝘼𝘽𝘾𝘿𝙀𝙁𝙂𝙃𝙄𝙅𝙆𝙇𝙈𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙌𝙍𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙑𝙒𝙓𝙔𝙕


ʰ ʱʲ ʳ ʴ ʵ ʶ ʷ ʸ ͤ ͥ ͦ ͧ ͨ ͩ ͪ ͫ ͬ ͭ ͮ ͯ ʹ ʺ ʻ ʼ ʽ

Ȁ Ȃ Ȧ Ӓ Ӑ Ʌ Ⱥ Ά Α Λ Ѧ Д ᾈ ᾉ ᾊ ᾋ ᾌ ᾍ ᾎ ᾏ • ȁ ȃ ɑ ɒ ɐ ȧ α ά Δ д ӓ ӑ ᾀ ᾁ ᾂ ᾃ ᾄ ᾅ ᾆ ᾇ ᾰ ᾱ ᾲ ᾳ ᾴ ᾶ ᾷ
Ƀ β Ѣ • Ђ Ъ Ь ъ ь Ϧ ɓ ʙ ϐ ѣ б в Ҍ ҍ
Ȼ ʗ Ͻ Ͼ Ͽ Ϲ Ѽ Ҁ Ҫ • ɔ ȼ ς ϲ ѽ ҁ ҫ
Đ • ɖ ɗ ȡ ʠ δ ᴅ
Ȅ Ȇ Ӗ Ɇ Ѐ Ȩ Ȝ Έ Ё Ε Ξ Σ ξ Є Э Ӭ З Ѯ Ҿ Ҽ Ӛ Ә Ӟ Ҙ ә • ə ε έ з є э е ϵ ϶ ȅ ɘ ȇ ɇ ȩ ѐ ё ѯ ҿ ҽ ӛ ӟ ҙ ӗ ӭ
Ϝ Ғ Ӻ • ϝ ɟ ʄ ӻ ғ
Ѡ Ѿ • ɠ ɡ ʛ ɢ ɞ ʚ ɕ
Ȟ Ή Η Ң Ҥ Һ Ӈ Ӊ Ҕ ᾘ ᾙ ᾚ ᾛ ᾜ ᾝ ᾞ ᾟ • ʜ ɦ ћ ʮ ʯ ɧ ȟ ɥ ђ Ћ н ӈ ӊ ң ҕ ҥ
Ȉ Ȋ Ί Ϊ Ῐ Ῑ Ὶ Ί • ȉ ɨ ɩ ɪ ȋ ϊ ΐ ῐ ῑ ῒ ΐ ῖ ῗ
Ɉ Ј • ɉ ȷ ʝ ϳ
Ќ Қ Ҟ Ҝ Ҟ Ӄ • ʞ ɮ κ ќ қ ҝ ҟ ҡ ӄ
Ƚ ζ • ʟ ɫ ɬ ʅ ɭ ȴ ʃ ʄ ʆ
Ϻ Ӎ • ɯ ɰ ɱ ϻ ӎ
Ƞ Ν Π Ѝ Ҋ Ӣ Ӥ Ώ Ω Л Й • ȵ ɲ ɳ ɴ ή π η и й ѝ л ҋ ӣ ӥ ᾐ ᾑ ᾒ ᾓ ᾔ ᾕ ᾖ ᾗ ὴ ή ὴ ή
Ȍ Ӧ Ȏ Ȭ Ȫ Ȯ Ȱ ʘ Ό θ Ѻ ϴ Ӫ Θ Ѳ Ю ф Ὸ Ό • ȫ ȭ ȍ ȏ ȯ ȱ ɵ ɸ σ ϕ ό Φ ѻ ѳ ӧ ӫ
Ρ Ҏ Ῥ • ρ ϼ Ϸ ϸ φ ҏ ῤ ῥ
Ɋ Ϙ • ϙ ɋ Ϥ ϥ ϱ
Ȑ Ȓ Ɍ Я Г Ѓ Ӷ Ґ • я ɹ ɺ ɻ ɼ ɽ ɾ ɿ ȑ ȓ ɍ ʀ ʁ г ѓ ґ ӷ
Ș Ϩ ϩ Ϛ • ϛ ɛ ɜ ɝ ʂ ȿ ș ა
Ț Ⱦ Ҭ • τ Ϯ ϯ ȶ ʇ ʈ ț т ҭ
Ȕ Ʉ Ȗ Ώ Ω ц • ȕ ȗ ʮ ʯ ʉ ʊ υ μ ϑ ϋ ύ ΰ
Ʌ Ѵ Ѷ • ɣ ʋ ʌ ѵ ѷ ῠ ῡ ῢ ΰ ῦ ῧ
Ϣ Ш Щ • ϣ ш щ ѿ ѡ ʍ ώ ψ Ψ ω ϖ ᾠ ᾡ ᾢ ᾣ ᾤ ᾥ ᾦ ᾧ ῲ ῳ ῴ ῶ ῷ ὼ ώ
Ϫ Ж Җ χ Ӽ Ҳ Ӿ Ӂ Ӝ • ж ϰ ϗ ӽ ӿ ҳ ӂ ӝ җ
Ȳ Ɏ ϒ ϓ ϔ Ύ Ϋ Υ Ў У ц Ѱ Ӱ Ӯ Ӳ Ӵ Ҷ Ҹ Ӌ Ῠ Ῡ Ὺ Ύ • Ч џ ў ү ұ ɣ ɏ ȳ ʎ ʏ ɤ Ϟ λ ϫ ӯ ӱ ӳ ӵ ҷ ҹ ӌ φ
Ȥ • ɀ ʐ ʑ ȥ ʒ ʓ ȝ

𝓣𝔀𝓸𝓦𝓮𝓴𝓼


NUMBERS

① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ ⑧ ⑨ ⑩ ⑪ ⑫ ⑬ ⑭ ⑮ ⑯ ⑰ ⑱ ⑲ ⑳
⓵ ⓶ ⓷ ⓸ ⓹ ⓺ ⓻ ⓼ ⓽ ⓾

❶ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼ ❽ ❾ ❿

ⅰⅱⅲⅳⅴⅵⅶ ⅷⅸⅹⅺⅻⅠⅡⅢⅣⅤⅥⅦ Ⅷ Ⅷ ⅨⅩⅪⅫ

㋀ ㋁ ㋂ ㋃ ㋄ ㋅ ㋆ ㋇ ㋈ ㋉ ㋊ ㋋

㏠ ㏡ ㏢ ㏣ ㏤ ㏥ ㏦ ㏧ ㏨ ㏩ ㏪ ㏫ ㏬ ㏭ ㏮ ㏯ ㏰ ㏱ ㏲ ㏳ ㏴ ㏵ ㏶ ㏷ ㏸ ㏹ ㏺ ㏻ ㏼ ㏽ ㏾

㍘ ㍙ ㍚ ㍛ ㍜ ㍝ ㍞ ㍟ ㍠ ㍡ ㍢ ㍣ ㍤ ㍥ ㍦ ㍧ ㍨ ㍩ ㍪ ㍫ ㍬ ㍭ ㍮ ㍯ ㍰

⒈ ⒉ ⒊ ⒋ ⒌ ⒍ ⒎ ⒏ ⒐ ⒑ ⒒ ⒓ ⒔ ⒕ ⒖ ⒗ ⒘ ⒙ ⒚ ⒛

₀₁₂₃₄₅₆₇₈₉


ARROWS

← ↑ → ↓ ↔ ↕ ↖ ↗ ↘ ↙ ↚ ↛ ↜ ↝ ↞ ↟ ☈ ☇ ►◄
↠ ↡ ↢ ↣ ↤ ↥ ↦ ↧ ↨ ↩ ↪ ↫ ↬ ↭ ↮ ↯ ↰ ↱ ↲ ↳ ↴ ↵ ↶ ↷ ↸ ↹ ↺ ↻ ↼ ↽ ↾ ↿
⇀ ⇁ ⇂ ⇃ ⇄ ⇅ ⇆ ⇇ ⇈ ⇉ ⇊ ⇋ ⇌ ⇍ ⇎ ⇏ ⇐ ⇑ ⇒ ⇓ ⇔ ⇕ ⇖ ⇗ ⇘ ⇙ ⇚ ⇛ ⇜ ⇝ ⇞ ⇟

⇠ ⇡ ⇢ ⇣ ⇤ ⇥ ⇦ ⇧ ⇨ ⇩ ⇪ ⇫ ⇬ ⇭ ⇮ ⇯ ⇰ ⇱ ⇲ ⇳ ⇴ ⇵ ⇶ ⇷ ⇸ ⇹ ⇺ ⇻ ⇼ ⇽ ⇾ ⇿
➔ ➘ ➙ ➚ ➛ ➜ ➝ ➞ ➟ ➠ ➡ ➢ ➣ ➤ ➥ ➦ ➧ ➨ ➩ ➪ ➫ ➬ ➭ ➮ ➯
➱ ➲ ➳ ➴ ➵ ➶ ➷ ➸ ➹ ➺ ➻ ➼ ➽ ➾ ⤴ ⤵


SYMBOLS


☺ ☻ ☼ ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦ ♪ ♫ ░ ▒ ▓ ▀ ▄ ■ □ ▪ ◦ ₴ ۱ ۲ ۳ ۴ ۵ ۶ ۷ ۸ ۹ ۞ ۝ ◌

℀ ℁ ℂ ℃ ℄ ℅ ℆ ℇ ℈ ℉ ℊ ℋ ℌ ℍ ℎ ℏ ℐ ℑ ℒ ℓ ℔ ℕ № ℗ ℘ ℙ ℚ ℛ ℜ ℝ ℞ ℟
℠ ℡ ™ ℣ ℤ ℥ Ω ℧ ℨ ℩ K Å ℬ ℭ ℮ ℯ ℰ ℱ Ⅎ ℳ ℴ ℵ ℶ ℷ ℸ ℹ ℺ ℽ

☽☾✗✘✓ ✔ √ ☐ ☑ ☒ ✕ ✖✚✪✣✤✥
✱ ✲ ✳ ❃ ❂ ❁ ❀ ✿ ✾ ✽ ✼ ✻ ✺ ✹
✸ ✷ ✶ ✵ ✴ ❄ ❅ ❆ ❇ ❈ ❉ ❊ ❋ ❖
☀ ☂ ☁ ❣ ✚ ✪ ✣ ✤ ✥ ✦ ❉ ❥ ❦ ❧
❃ ❂ ❁ ❀ ✄ ☪ ➸ ♨ ☢ ☠ ☭ ♈ ☮ ☯
♋ ☡ ☢ ☣ ☤ ☥ ☦ ☧ ☨ ☩ ☪ ☫ ☬ ☭
♔ ♕ ♖ ♗ ♘ ♙ ♚ ♛ ♜ ♝ ♞ ♟ ۩ ۞
♠ ♡ ♢ ♣ ♤ ♥ ♦ ♧ ✦✧✩✫✬✭✮✯✰ ☼ ❣
♯♩♪♫♬♭๑ ☃ ☄
☰ ☱ ☲ ☳ ☴ ☵ ☶ ☷ ☚ ☛ ☜ ☝ ☞ ☟
☿ ♀ ♁ ♂ ♃ ♄ ♅ ♆ ♇ ♈ ♉ ♊ ♌ ♍
△ ▲ ☆ ★ ⋆ ◇ ◆ ■ □ ▽ ▼ ❤❥♎ ♏ ✐✌
๑ # @ & * ¥ ☸ ☆ ★ ✪ ¤ ☼ ☀ ☽☾
♡ ღ☻ ☺ ❂ ◕ ⊕ ☉ Θ o O ♋ ☯ ㊝ ⊙ ◎
◑ ◐ ۰ • ● ▪ ▫ 。 ゚ ๑ ☜ ☞ ☂ ♨ ☎ ☏ ✍✡
♲ ♳ ♴ ♵ ♶ ♷ ♸ ♹ ♺ ♻ ♼ ♽ ✁
∭ ≈ 彡 ✉ ✎ ✐ ➽

FACES
ಠ_ಠ ◕ ◡ ◕ Ü ö Ö °__° ಥ__ಥ (๑→ܫ←)
(︶︹︺) (*-`ω´- )人 (ц`ω´ц*) (●ゝω)ノヽ(∀<●) (ㄒoㄒ) >_<
⊙▂⊙ ⊙0⊙ ⊙︿⊙  ⊙ω⊙  ⊙﹏⊙  ⊙△⊙  ⊙▽⊙ o(‧'''‧)o
(◡‿◡✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕〝◕) (∩_∩) ミ●﹏☉ミ (≧0≦) o(╥﹏╥)o
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ஐﻬ

DIVIDER THINGS

┄ ┅ ┆ ┇ ┈ ┉ ┊ ┋ ⋮ ⋯ ⋰ ⋱
─ ━ │ ┃┌ ┐ ┍ ┑ ┎ ┒ ┏ ┓ └ ┘ ┕ ┙ ┖ ┚ ┗ ┛
┞ ┟ ┢ ┡ ┦ ┧ ┩ ┪
┣ ┫┝ ┥┠ ┨├ ┤
┬ ┭ ┮ ┯ ┰ ┱ ┲ ┳ ┴ ┵ ┶ ┷ ┸ ┹ ┺ ┻ ┼ ┽ ┾ ┿
╀ ╁ ╂ ╃ ╄ ╅ ╆ ╇ ╈ ╉ ╊ ╋ ╌ ╍ ╎ ╏
═ ║ ╒ ╓ ╔ ╕ ╖ ╗ ╘ ╙ ╚ ╛ ╜ ╝ ╞ ╟
╠ ╡ ╢ ╣ ╤ ╥ ╦ ╧ ╨ ╩ ╪ ╫ ╬
╭ ╮ ╯ ╰ ╱ ╲ ╳ ╴ ╵ ╶ ╷ ╸ ╹ ╺ ╻
≡ ≢ ≣ ≤ ≥ ≦ ≧ ≨ ≩ ≪ ≫ ≭ ≮ ≯ ≰ ≱ ≲ ≳ ≴ ≵ ≶ ≷ ≸ ≹ ≺ ≻ ≼ ≽ ≾ ≿
⊀ ⊁ ⊂ ⊃ ⊄ ⊅ ⊆ ⊇ ⊈ ⊉ ⊊ ⊋ ⊏ ⊐ ⊑ ⊒
⊕ ⊖ ⊗ ⊘ ⊙ ⊚ ⊛ ⊜ ⊝ ⊞ ⊟
⊠ ⊡ ⊢ ⊣ ⊤ ⊥ ⊦ ⊧ ⊨ ⊩ ⊪ ⊫ ⊬ ⊭ ⊮ ⊯
⊰ ⊱ ⊲ ⊳ ⊴ ⊵ ⊶ ⊷ ⊸ ⊹ ⊺ ⊻ ⊼ ⊽ ⊾ ⊿
⋀ ⋁ ⋂ ⋃ ⋄ ⋅ ⋆ ⋇ ⋈ ⋉ ⋊ ⋋ ⋌ ⋍
⋎ ⋏ ⋐ ⋑ ⋒ ⋓ ⋔ ⋖ ⋗ ⋘ ⋙ ⋚ ⋛ ⋜ ⋝ ⋞ ⋟
⋠ ⋡ ⋢ ⋣ ⋤ ⋥ ⋦ ⋧ ⋨ ⋩ ⋪ ⋫ ⋬ ⋭
« »

*!"#$%&'()*+,-./:;<=>?@[\]_^`{|}~¢£¬ ̄¦¥ ⊰ ⊱
︻ ︼ ︽ ︾ 〈 〉 ︿ ﹀ ∩ ∪ ﹁ ﹂
﹛ ﹜╳ + - ﹢ × ÷ = ≠ ≒ ∞ ˇ ± √ ⊥ ∠ ∟ ⊿ ㏒

SEPARATORS

❛❜❝❞【】〖〗﹃﹄『』{ }〔 〕「 」◢ ◣◥ ◤ ⌠ ⌡ ⦅ ⦆ ( ) < > [ ] { } 〈
【 】 〖 〗 〔 〕 〘 〙〚 〛﹙ ﹚
﹤ ﹥ ﹛ ﹜
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
==== ☠ ====
☆═━┈┈━═☆
± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ±
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
╔══════════════╗

╚══════════════╝
┏━━━━━━━━━┓

┗━━━━━━━━━┛
Oº°‘¨ ¨‘°ºO
•°o.O O.o°•
¨°o.O O.o°¨
—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—
•·.·´¯`·.·• •·.·´¯`·.·•´
`·.(`·.¸ ¸.·´).·´
`·» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´
`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´
`•.•●•۰• ••.•´
׺°”˜`”°º× ׺°”˜`”°º×


▀ ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ▉ ▊ ▋ ▌ ▍ ▎ ▏ ▐
░ ▒ ▓▕ ■ □ ▢ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▦ ▧ ▨ ▩ ▪ ▫
▬ ▭ ▮ ▯ ▰ ▱ ▲ △ ▴ ▵ ▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ ► ▻ ▼ ▽ ▾ ▿
◀ ◁ ◂ ◃ ◄ ◅ ◆ ◇ ◈ ◉ ◊
○ ◌ ◍ ◎ ● ◐ ◑ ◒ ◓ ◔ ◕
◖ ◗ ◘ ◙ ◚ ◛ ◜ ◝ ◞ ◟
◠ ◡ ◢ ◣ ◤ ◥ ◦ ◧ ◨ ◩ ◪ ◫ ◬ ◭ ◮ ◯

㊊㊋㊌㊍㊎㊏ ㊐㊑㊒㊓㊔㊕㊖㊗㊘㊜㊝㊞㊟㊠㊡㊢ ㊣㊤㊥㊦㊧㊨㊩㊪㊫㊬㊭㊮㊯㊰

║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌│║║█║█║▌│█║▌│║║█║

JAPANESE STUFF

あいうおえ かきくこけ さしすそせ たちつとて ないぬのね はひほふへ まみむもめ やよゆ らりるろれ わを ん

アイウオエ カキクコケ サシスソセ タチツトテ ナニヌノネ ハヒホフヘ マミムモメ ヤヨユ ラリルロレ ワヲ ン
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colors

● red
● darkred
● salmon
● crimson
● firebrick
● maroon



● orange
● orangered
● darkorange
● coral
● tomato
● lightsalmon



● yellow
● gold
● goldenrod



● green
● yellowgreen
● chartreuse
● darkolivegreen
● darkgreen
● darkseagreen
● forestgreen
● greenyellow
● lawngreen
● lightgreen
● lime
● limegreen
● olivedrab
● palegreen
● mediumseagreen
● mediumspringgreen
● seagreen
● mediumaquamarine
● lightseagreen
● teal
● aquamarine
● darkcyan
● mediumturquoise
● darkturquoise



● blue
● lightblue
● cornflowerblue
● navy
● aqua
● darkblue
● darkslateblue
● lightskyblue
● skyblue
● dodgerblue
● deepskyblue
● lightsteelblue
● steelblue
● mediumblue
● royalblue
● paleturquoise
● midnightblue
● powderblue



● purple
● thistle
● plum
● violet
● orchid
● mediumorchid
● mediumpurple
● darkorchid
● blueviolet
● darkviolet
● darkmagenta
● indigo
● slateblue
● darkslateblue
● mediumslateblue



● pink
● lightpink
● hotpink
● deeppink
● fuchsia
● mediumvioletred
● indianred
● lightcoral
● palevioletred
● darksalmon
● rosybrown



● brown
● tan
● darkgoldenrod
● burlywood
● chocolate
● peru
● saddlebrown
● sandybrown
● sienna



● black
● darkgray
● darkslategray
● dimgray
● gray
● lightslategray
● silver
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-RESERVED-
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Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
-RESERVED-
AndrogynousFox's avatar

Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
-RESERVED-
AndrogynousFox's avatar

Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
User Image
___________________________________________________
CecyliaAnwenMcQuillen
___________________________________________________


Name:
{{ Cecylia Anwen McQuillen }}

Role:
{{ Porcupine }}

Age:
{{ 18 }}

Blood Type:
{{ AB- }}

Birth date:
{{ July 8th, 1993 }}

Personality:
{{Cecylia is an individual of peace. Peace is always the answer for Cecylia. She does not like arguing with others, unless she is trying to prove a point. Cecylia despises violence, though she gas learned that in times of crisis defense is nesscessary. Therefor violence is always a last resort for her. She treats others with respect, in order to ensure that peace is maintained. Her peaceful nature also marks her as a caring individual. She is quite friendly, and finds it easy to make acquaintances with others. Despite the fact that she is usually the shy individual sitting next to the window, she is not afraid to converse with other shy individuals. She tries to bring them out of their shells, instead of focusing on her own lack of social skills. Cecylia is not as outgoing as other individuals, but she does enjoy going outside. She helps those in need, even putting their interests before her own. The disadvantage of her kind nature is that she allows others to push her around.

On the surface she appears shy and quiet due to she always feel uncomfortable when around strangers or people she does not know very well. She does not give herself away easily and is sometimes mistaken to be cold on the surface. It is difficult for her to open up and have a close emotionally fulfilled relationship with someone because she is so closed off emotionally to the world. This is driven by her fear of trust; Cecylia has a difficult time trusting people. This causes built up anger and resentment inside, she can have a negative outlook on life, thinking that life is just too hard and miserable. She becomes skeptical of people and her surroundings. Yet, she is full of shocks and surprises and will hardly let you know what her motives are. She doesn't trust people easily, not until she has scrutinized each and every aspect of their personality. In fact, she is constantly criticizing everything and everyone around her, even her friends. She's probably more harsh than necessary in most cases, but if they won't shape up, then they'll never improve as people or so she says. This attitude she claims is being 'realistic', but 'pessimistic' is more accurate. To be fair, her blunt, judgmental approach has helped avoid plenty of dangerous situations. However, once she trusts you and makes you her friend, nobody in this world can sway her against you.

Beneath the detached, quiet exterior lies a kind-hearted friend that will go out of her way to help another although she is seemingly Bipolar switching from one mood to the next. She is very unusual and is always full of excitement. Though Cecylia has her bouts of solitude, she will soon be back to her normal self again. Just remember not to disturb her when she wants to be alone. Ignore her and she will come back again, all happy and cheerful. Rarely is she ever not compassionate towards her loved ones, although at times she is willing to give them anything they want without a question. But Cecylia is extremely loyal to those who appreciate and support her; she is a nurturer and will protect and cherish the person for a long time. These people can lean on and depend on Cecylia; she will listen to people's problems and help them, if she's in the mood to. However she will rarely express her own deep feelings to anyone. People who want to share deep emotional thoughts and opinions with her might feel that the scales are tipped on one side, for she will rarely reveal her true, deep feelings. She dislikes commitments of any kind for the most part. However, once she has made it, she will stick to it fully. She gives her opinion very frankly and will stand by it, but never ever try to force them upon anyone unless she feels like she should. But in return, don't every dictate how she should live her life. Once Cecylia has made up her mind, it is difficult to move her.

She is quite an intelligent girl. She spends most of her school days studying. She also possesses high grades in all of her classes. Cecylia is quite paranoid when it comes to school work: she must achieve higher than 95 on her tests. She is a perfectionist. This proves to be a negative trait, since Cecylia tends to stress out when studying. She is not just intelligent when it comes to school work: she is excellent at strategy as well. She tries to persuade her friends to make the right decisions, even if it means not fighting the enemy. However, she tends to incorporate her desire for peace in all of her advice. If fighting is necessary, then she will by all means fight. At times, her decisions do not agree with the decisions of others. This makes her feel quite insecure and paranoid. However, she is learning to trust herself and her own decisions, instead of worrying about what others think. Of course, she will follow whatever her friends decide, but she will repeatedly advise them on any dangers they might face. One can say that Cecylia is quite gullible and easily submits to the will of others, depending on the situation. yet, she has an extremely good concentration power. Even though it looks as if she is not even listening to you, she can repeat each and every word you said. She doesn't have a good memory, but she seems to know everything that is to be remembered including her surroundings. Not to mention her observational skills which have helped time and time again. She will strategize and will think through most actions and, though hot-blooded by nature, she will hold herself back if she sees that it's not advantageous for her. Though she appears to be courageous and logic defying in some cases, it's more likely that she's seen an approach that hasn't been acknowledged. Being able to deduce things and apply what information she gets is one of her greatest strengths; though there are times when she really does ignore the logic in order to follow after her frustrations yet there's always a reason behind it. Since it makes seeing things clearer for her. Although it's not hard to tell that she has a lot of emotional issues to deal with but once she overcomes this large hump of shyness and insecurity, there is practically nothing she can't do. She also dislikes interference by others, however helpfully intended, and will accept it only on her own terms. However, once she has found someone who she feels is worthy enough of her love and friendship, she becomes a very loyal friend to have and even ready to sacrifice everything for her loved ones and she will be faithful to them for life. However, she is sometimes disappointed emotionally because of her own high personal ideals causes her to demand more of others than is reasonable. But once you have managed to befriend her, she becomes more comfortable around you and open, revealing more of her personality.

A major negative attribute of Cecylia's personality is her paranoid and insecure nature. Cecylia always worries about the safety of others and herself. She constantly thinks of pointless scenarios that may result if she makes the wrong decisions. Cecylia is also quite insecure: she is shy at times when it comes to social life. She is also quite scared that she would lose her harmony and become two-faced. In a nutshell she is complex, fragile, unpredictable and moody. Secretly she needs to be needed. Even when all needs are satisfied, she can be irritable and cranky. Another side of her is that she can be very childish, having wild mood swings and possible temper tantrums. She can become easily offended and will sulk and wallow in self pity for a long time when she gets hurt. It can be difficult to know just how sensitive to criticism she is, simply because she hides it so well! When her character or behavior has been criticized, she tends to dig in her heels and keep right on doing it. She fully expects others to accept her exactly as she is, or she doesn’t have much use for them in her life. Senri is also a bit of a daydreamer and not always in touch with reality, often having her head in the clouds as she is thinking about something or other, mostly during classes or when she is bored. Because of this she can become quite clumsy, sometimes falling over her own two feet or bumping into people or object and is accident-prone when she isn’t paying close attention. She is also quite indecisive, and always agrees with others. This may lead to conflict, since she can never side with one idea. One can say that Cecylia always resorts to the 'middle ground'. She may do this just to seek approval. This proves to be detrimental to her relationship with others, however. Cecylia will eventually have to learn to trust her friends, and allow them to assist her on her journey in finding her true self.}}

Theme Song:
{{link song title and artist here}}

Powers/Abilities:
{{ Shape shifting into a porcupine (comes with the senses and instincts), agility/speed, tree growth/summon and communicate trees and tree spirits, can detect lies, and needle projection. }}

Likes
{{Sweets}}
{{Music}}
{{Nature}}
{{Peircings}}
{{Painting}}

Dislikes
{{Meat}}
{{The sight and smell of blood}}
{{Loud noises}}
{{Heights}}
{{Arrogance}}

Worst fear:
{{ Ceraunophobia - fear of thunder and lightning. }}

Back story:
{{On a cold July evening, the cries of a young baby girl filled a local hospital. Andras McQuillen, a pureblooded man from England, and Elain Bateman, a pureblooded Welsh woman, smiled at their daughter. The couple, despite their difference in nationality, were glad to have been blessed with such a beautiful daughter. After not much thought, they decided to name her Cecylia. The name suited her well.

Life had been both sweet and bitter for Andras and Elain before Cecylia's birth. The two had met in Wales. Andras had been on a business trip for a popular manufacturing company that he worked for. Elain lived in Wales, and owned a flower shop. It seemed as if fate had brought them together: one day, Elain was sent to deliver a bouquet of flowers to the building Andras had been working in. It is quite obvious what occurred next: the two met, and it was love at first sight. The two then began to see each other. There was one negative aspect of their relationship: many individuals did not approve of an English man dating a Welsh woman. It was quite an odd pair: this led to stares from other people. Though this bothered the couple at first, they learned to ignore it. Eventually, Andras proposed to Elain, and the two got married in London. Soon after, Andras persuaded Elain to return to his hometown in Bristol. After this, the two began a quiet yet joyful life together, soon before Cecylia's birth.

Cecylia's childhood was quite pleasurable. She grew up in a middle-class family. Cecylia's home was located at the heart of Bristol, near the marketplace. Her mother sold flowers in the marketplace, while her father worked as a manager in London, which had been opened recently. Cecylia grew and developed the same manner in which most toddlers developed. Cecylia grew up in a bilingual household, and learned to speak both Welsh and English when she began learning how to speak. As a child, she could not decide which culture she liked better: both were so interesting! She was well known in Bristol for being both British and Welsh: a strange combination. However, this blessed her with great beauty: she possessed bright, brown European eyes, as well as a soft, beautiful complexion. She was well known for her soft blonde: a trait obtained from her mother.

Once Cecylia began school, she started off as a girl with average intelligence. As the years progressed, she began to grow even more intelligent. Her parents taught their daughter the importance of reading and learning. It was this lecture that triggered Cecylia's intelligence. She began to exceed the expectations of her teachers in school. Cecylia was not considered to be a genius or anything along those lines: she was just extremely devout and well rounded for her age.

As Cecylia's childhood years passed, she developed a fascination for the ancient Romans. This fascination began once she read a book about ancient Rome (excluding the violent aspects of the civilization, of course). Cecylia began to play 'Gladiator' by herself in the backyard, and also began to read more and more books about Roman culture. Cecylia's favorite book was a book about the various gods and goddesses of the ancient Roman culture. Her favorite goddess was perhaps Flora, the goddess of flowers. After all, Cecylia also had a fascination for flowers: a fascination obtained from her mother.

At age eleven, Cecylia began to immerse herself in various sporting activities. After all, it was imperative to have a mens sana in corpore sano, or a healthy mind in a healthy body! Cecylia learned archery, a sport that appealed to her as she watched the Olympics one day. Cecylia also immersed herself in swimming: Cecylia was located next to a beach, after all! While practicing these sports, Cecylia also began to learn ancient Latin. Her mother found it strange that her daughter loved Latin more than any other language she knew. After listening to years of Cecylia's lectures about the wonders of Ancient Rome, her parents finally agreed to bring her to Italy. At age twelve, Cecylia visited Italy with her parents. The ancient Coliseum, as well as the ancient Roman villas fascinated her. Cecylia wished that she had lived during the time of the Romans! And while she was there she visited the zoo and saw many wondrous creatures but the one that interested her the most was the porcupine. The small, spiky creature had been all alone in its glass enclosure and no one was visiting him. Cecylia took it upon herself to walk over and kneel down in front of the small animal and meet it eye-to-eye and in that moment something in her sparked as if she understood how it was feeling. After all these years she hasn't forgotten that event.

With all of these blissful events, Cecylia hardly realized that her teenage years were quickly approaching. Cecylia had transitioned from Elementary School to High School and in that time she moved to the States.

Cecylia's first years at High School proved to be quite rough. She had a hard time transitioning from the sheltered environment of her previous school, to the reality of high school and an American one at that. She was well known in the school for her nationality, though no one dared to mention it. At times, random students would question her on her nationality. Cecylia got sick of the questions once in a while. She noticed that she was treated differently at times because of her strange nationality. Many of the students began to spread rumors, all but one boy. He was in her English Class and he was the first person to ever talk to her like she was an actual human being. At first she didn't understand why he was being so nice to her until he introduced him as Josh Cassidy. He even said for her to ignore the rumors and that she seemed pretty cool, ever since then the two have become rather good friends. But apparently, judging from the rumors they believed that Cecylia probably wasn't Welsh at all, in which Josh shook his head at. Several months passed, as the rumors began to circulate. Cecylia had no way to fight these rumors. Instead, she decided to simply become outgoing, and act in a manner that pleased others. Perhaps if she gained popularity (despite the fact that Cecylia dislikes popularity), the rumors would stop.

This tactic worked.

Cecylia first signed up for the swim team, and became an avid member of the team. She became well known for her speed. Also, the students began to somewhat admire her mixed appearance. They soon began to forget that Cecylia was not fully Welsh. Eventually, Cecylia even created a club: the Latin club. She might as well enjoy herself while attempting to gain popularity, right? Cecylia began to enjoy herself at school for once, despite the fact that she was acting quite two-faced. She began to speak with the people she disliked, and followed them around like a puppy. At the end of her first year, Cecylia was even more well known throughout the school.

It was during the break before the start of her second year, that Cecylia realized she was no longer harmonious. Prior to her year at high school, her opinions and decisions complemented her actions. She acted the way she wanted to, not the way others wanted her to act. Little by little, Cecylia began to regain her harmony. She promised herself that she would act like herself once school started once more. After all, everyone would love her true self, right?

She was greatly mistaken.

In order to stay true to her promise, Cecylia had refused to do the dirty work for her "friends". Cecylia had also avoided the mean students, and focused on befriending kind students. Although Cecylia had finally regained her harmony, her popularity was diminishing. At first, she did not mind this, until a popular student addressed her one day.

"You mutt! You've done my homework last year, can't you do it again?!" A blonde-haired student snarled at Cecylia.

"B-But you're good at math...I'm pretty sure that you can do it yourself..." Cecylia replied, with a sad tone.

"Pfft, are you kidding me? I have a date tonight! I can't be wasting my time on homework!" The student replied, with a growl.

Cecylia then sighed. To survive in the school, she would have to resort to a superficial personality.

"Heh, I was just teasing you! Of course I'll do it!" Cecylia replied, with a false smile.

As the weeks passed, Cecylia began to lose sight of her true self. She began to despise others. Actually, Cecylia no longer cared for herself: this bothered her greatly. She was haunted by malicious thoughts. Why should she care for others? They just treated her like garbage! As years went on she began pushing away from others, all except for one person. Her friend Josh Cassidy. He was the only one who really spoke out for her when others started to pick on her at school. Toward the start of senior year the rumors then fell away and the students went on to find a new target making Cecylia old news, which she was fine with. It left her to work more on her studies till she graduated with all As and several scholarships. After graduation Josh came up to her and invited her to go on a trip with him and some other kids from their school, to some Indian Reservation. Not wanting to pass up on the opportunity she agreed to go. Upon arriving they went to participate in a totem ceremony and were each handed a leather totem. At first she laughed, peering at the totem that she was handed. It was a porcupine. Wondering if it was just irony she couldn't help but relate the small creature to her last name... or that time at the zoo. Brushing away the thoughts she continued to stare at the totem for a while before clasping her hand over it. It was just a necklace right?

Although, she could never prepare for the events that were about to unfold before her.}}

I'm controlled by:
{{doeeyeddarling}}
AndrogynousFox's avatar

Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
User Image


FACE . THE . F A C T S

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXTHE BOSS OF ME
    doeeyeddarling

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHAT'S IN A NAME?
    Cecylia Janina Grzeskiewicz

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHO I AM
    Most call me Aurora but CJ works too.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHAT I AM
    Mutant

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXLAST TIME I CHECKED, I WAS A
    Female

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXCOUNT THE CANDLES
    Eighteen years last I recall. But then again whose counting?

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXMY SPECIAL DAY
    Insert birthdate

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXDISORIENTED
    Bisexual

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXTHE STATUS QUO
    Single.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWORK, WORK, WORK
    If applicable, insert occupation. Where does your character work? Describe the work conditions.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXRESIDENTIAL
    Insert residence. Where does your character live? Describe the living conditions.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXKEEPING UP APPEARANCES
    Insert physical description, style preferences, additional image links, etc.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXLOOK WHAT I CAN DO

      Adoptive Muscle Memory Insert power description

      Aura Manipulation The ability to manipulate/control the subtle, luminous radiation that surrounds a person or object. She can manipulate energy in various ways. However this ability deals with the energy of her spiritual essence instead of the entire universe. Aura is the energy that is formed from one's achievement of spiritual power through extreme mental focus or strong emotions. Users of this power are able to increase their natural abilities, attract and repel the aura of others, sense the aura, and project it. She can also determine personality, discern health level, recognize if a person has superpowers and detect changes in mood. She relies on being within physical visual range of the person, she's limited on how many auras one can see at a time which is three and she's limited on how long an aura can be seen due to risks of headaches

      Types of aura are located in different parts of the physical body such the forehead, spine, throat, heart, and stomach. The power of the aura also changes with mood. There are 7 auras, each with their attributes and colors.
      Muladhara - Deals with physical nature. (Red)
      Swadhisthana - Deals with emotion. (Orange)
      Manipura - Deals with self-energy and willpower. (Yellow)
      Anahata - Deals with psychic healing. (Green)
      Vishuddha - Deals with intelligence. (Blue)
      Anja - Deals with mental communation. (Indigo)
      Sahasrara - Deals with awareness of illusions and obtaining a higher consciouness. (Violet)


      Aura Mimicry The ability to mimic a person's Aura. She can change her Aura to match others, gaining their abilities if they have them, also feeling their emotions. This ability also includes Aura Reading Empathy, Power Replication, if mixing different Auras, she may gain Power Mixture or the ability to use two or more powers to create new powers as well as different combinations. High level users may literally turn into an Aura, being able to resist any physical attack. She can also trick other users with Aura Reading to have an aura signiture of a stranger, or a friend. But this power takes time and a lot of control. She may gain some of the person's personality, she is vulnerable to users of Aura Manipulation and Aura Absorption, mimicking maybe long and painful and she has to touch another to mimic their aura.

      Freeze Vision The power to emit beams of heat-draining energy from one's eyes. She can freeze obects or people by emitting beams of energy that slow molecular motion. Thus making it relatively easily to freeze enemies in place with this power. Although, it might not work on those with heat-based powers, such as Pyrokinesis or Heat Generation.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXSTILL LISTENING?
    OPTIONAL. Anything else you'd like to add?

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWELL, LISTEN TO THIS
    With Ears to See and Eyes to Hear Sleeping With Sirens



BENEATH . THE . S K I N

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXX<3

      Insert like Describe like

      Insert like Describe like

      Insert like Describe like. *Again, add more or less if you want to.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXX</3

      Insert dislike Describe dislike

      Insert dislike Describe dislike

      Insert dislike Describe dislike *Add more or less.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWELL, IF YOU ASK ME

      Insert personality trait Describe trait

      Insert personality trait Describe trait

      Insert personality trait Describe trait. *Add more or less.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXUH-OH

      Insert fear/weakness Describe fear/weakness

      Insert fear/weakness Describe fear/weakness

      Insert fear/weakness Describe fear/weakness. *Have at least two.



STORIES . TO . T E L L

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXBIO MEGA
    As a young girl Cecylia was born in Warsaw, Poland to an ordinary couple that fell in love and married, then later in life had a baby. Well in truth she wishes that she could say that her life was that simple, but it's really not. Her father was a wealthy businessman and her mother was a successful actress and model. The woman had given up her last name, Gorski, when she married the man with the last name Grzeskiewicz. She had moved to Warsaw from the country very early in her life, escaping something that was going on within the family. She had thought she had escaped the curse of her genes, but when she gave birth to a daughter, she thought God had scorned her as the child began to develop. For you see she wasn't like a normal child for she claimed to see emotions of others, saying that it was almost like a wispy, colorful fog. Immediately the father, Aleksy Grzeskiewicz was outraged, saying that the girl was spouting nonsense and his anger only grew when she claimed that he was glowing red and that mommy was different too. The woman knew exactly what was going on; the husband however, was clueless on the situation and the mutant genes that had been passed along to his young daughter. They left the small child outside in the hall as her mother patiently explained what had happened, and only then did she request that the father pick up the child and apologize. After all, she was unable to, merely holding the child was something that could be absolutely devastating at the moment for she feared that the girl would pick up on the mental shield she had put up.

    Neither of them were thrilled about the given situation, if anything, they were quite unhappy with the turn of events. They wanted a normal child, a fully human one at that! But to have a mutant child? It was the worst possible outcome they could have. No matter how much they wanted the child gone, the woman mentioned it was too risky giving her to anyone other than her family, and she did not want to contact anyone from the past she tried to escape…it was unfortunate that the past seem to catch up to her quicker than she expected…with that... child that slept in her crib sound asleep. Though they despised the child that lay sleeping peacefully in her crib, they would take care of her, no matter how much they didn’t want to. What they wouldn’t give the small child, was any sort of affection. As she grew, no matter how much the child cried they would only do the necessities, and even then it wasn’t much of a good job. The delay in diaper changes causing rashes, ones that cause the child to cry more, the feeding lacked any sort of interaction. When she got old enough they would merely give her the bottle and let her figure out how to get the milk into her mouth. They bought her food, clothing, but other than that, they didn’t have any interest in interacting with her and instead devoted the most of their attention to their respectable jobs.

    She was home schooled for the majority of her younger years, but her parents were never the ones that did the teaching. A female private teacher had been paid to teach the girl the basics, though at the time Cecylia didn’t understand why her parents weren’t teaching him to begin with nor did she realize how important this situation was, as she was very fortunate to have a teacher at all. But by the time he was able to attend middle school the young mutant was shuffled off to an all-girl school for humans, the parents taking every precaution to not cause a scene, the last thing they needed was for their name being all over the television. She’d come home to a sandwich laying on a counter, and at dinner they all ate at the kitchen table, though no words would be exchanged with her, not even their eyes would acknowledge her in fear that she would freeze them in place. She did her best in school, earning grades any parent would be proud of; she seemed to excel in sports such as gymnastics and soccer. She’d come home with her report card in hand, give it to her father, only to see him toss it onto the counter to never be looked at again. When the ‘father figure’ would leave, she would retrieve the paper, and place in the drawer. As time grew on, the drawer was becoming more packed with unrecognized achievements. Her parents never attended one open house, nor would they attend conferences regarding their daughter. Whenever he was questioned about their absence, she’d merely say: They’re very busy people. Though every single thing she said about her parents to others was a lie, a fabrication. The last thing she needed to do was get scolded or worse for saying something she shouldn’t.

    The child was never beaten, she was never verbally abused, but the parents’ behavior was enough to damage her then, weak mind. Their behavior towards her, the way they never acknowledged her accomplishments and great achievements, it made her believe nobody could possibly find a reason to speak to her, or to compliment her for doing an excellent job. Though they never once laid a hand on her, the neglect was enough to make her cry, all the attempts to make her parents proud never panned out, and never once did they show any sort of affection towards her. Though her parents didn’t appreciate her hard work in school, she continued to do the best she could, being one of the top students and leading the middle school's gymnastics team to the championship. It was at the age of thirteen where she ran into a crowd that intrigued her. As she was walking home from school she noticed a group of kids (around her age) riding on some sort of board with wheels attached. Naturally she was curious, she approached the group and asked them what they were doing. It was a ballsy move, considering she was a hardworking student, and a majority of the kids before her had a D to C average if she had to guess, and they were boys. At first the group thought she was joking, and once she inquired about the things they were playing with, they seemed to reluctantly speak to the overachiever.

    The item the group had been writing was called a skateboard, and it would be a discovery that would change her daily routine, something that had remained the same for years. Though at first the group didn’t acknowledge her as one of their own, the blonde haired individual constantly watched as they rode around on their boards, attempting tricks and moves. After several weeks of having her stand in the distant, observing their behavior and actions, one of them finally approached her, asking her why she kept coming around. "I’m hoping you all will let me try out one of those." Her hand had pointed to the skateboard the other teen held in his hand, what else would she have been talking about? "Why should I let you touch my board?" The early teen had taken a moment to respond, "My mom won’t let me get one.". No, more like, her mother wouldn’t buy one for her, and she had no way of getting one for herself. And to much surprise, the slightly older teen held out his skateboard, and let her have a go at it. Of course, right off the bat they laughed at her, watching as she mounted the board. That was until she took off and attempted an Ollie, landing it effortlessly as if she had ridden one before. The boys merely stared slack-jawed at her as she rode around them in circles doing Ollies and several of the other tricks she had observed them. Never falling or losing her balance once, it was as if she had been riding her whole life and she had even caught herself off guard. Eventually one of the boys began to bring two skateboards, letting Cecylia borrow their spare, and as time grew on, she became more skilled at the activity. One night she and another boy were the last ones out, the time was getting late, and the sky was growing dark. She was several years younger than the other, who asked why she hadn’t headed home like the rest of the kids her age. "If I don’t have to go home, I’d rather not go home." She replied softly, her response had made the other pause for a moment, before he lightly patted her head playfully. Though she didn’t quite understand the gesture, the other continued skateboarding with her for another hour or two, before he told her to go home, as he was leaving the area. But before they departed, he told her he could keep the board that she gently held in her hands. "Keep it, I’ve got more spares at home". What the girl didn’t know was that the boy had lied to her. The board he gave her was the only spare he had, and if his current board broke, he wouldn’t have anything as back up.

    When she had come home, it was past ten o’clock, her father was in the study and she approached him with a question: "What does it mean when somebody pats your head?" The father figure merely scoffed, "Who the hell would want to touch you?" Though it was a punch right to the gut, she locked the hurt feelings away, and instead of starting an argument, or yelling at him, she went on and headed to bed. It was at the age of fifteen that she started seeing more than just one color when around people. Often her gaze would look around, figuring that maybe she was just imagining things, and so she quickly shrugged it off. Quite often these colors were accompanied by a sudden feeling of anger, joy or sorrow. It was when the colors came around, that she couldn’t keep up that optimistic, outgoing personality, for they triggered horrible headaches and because of this she seemed to become more distant. And then everything seemed to get much, much worse.

    It was the one night that her parents weren’t home when she heard a crashing sound; it was something that pulled her right out of bed. Her parents had gone out of town for a few days, and she was left at the house alone. She had run to her bedroom door, only to open it to a taller man, with a gun aiming straight at her and the colors around him were a dark red almost black. She had frozen for a moment, the sound of the gun cocking was what made her reacted, immediately she attempted to push the hand away and slink around the taller figure. But as she tried to maneuver around her wrist was grabbed, and her arm was pulled to her back, in a painful restraining position. Immediately he was forced to the floor, her stomach pressing along the beige carpet. She began to yell at the man, asking what he wanted, why he was here, and to spare her life. The male simply chuckled as the barrel of the gun rested against the back of the young girl's head. It was then that the man began to toy with her saying things like: Should I shoot here? Not there, shooting there would be too messy. It was something that just caused the girl to start screaming, trying to draw attention to their residence, it was then that a bang went out through the room, and there was a sudden lack of sound, while the other ear rang furiously. There was an intense pain that seemed go along her ear, the eyes widened as tears silently fell down her face and onto the carpet below her. She began to question the situation, why is this happening to me? What have I done wrong? The taller figure that held her to the ground began to demean her in every possible way. With the gun barrel placed to her head, the blonde haired individual closed her eyes, expecting for the worst. But instead a door slammed open, and as a shot went off, so did another. "Stop!" She screamed although she couldn't hear the words as they rang out, thrusting her head around she met the man's gaze for a moment and he suddenly just stopped moving all at once. As if he was frozen in time. The chocolate brown eyes widened, as a pain seemed to singe her other ear, she could feel a wet substance riding down the side of her face. She screamed out, asking who was there, but…she heard nothing. She couldn’t hear herself talk, and as a figure approached her, she couldn’t hear them either. Finally the girl succumbed to darkness, but the questions remained, why couldn’t she hear anything? And why had time stopped?

    She was shaken awake, as she looked up to meet her mother's dark eyes. The pain along her head and ear were enough to deal with, but as the woman spoke to her not one single sound reached her ears. "I can’t hear you." She had said to her, though she was already quite aware of that. It was then that she wrote something out, and the words she showed him caused the gaze to widen. "You’re going to go somewhere far away, a safer place for kids like you. Get dressed, I packed your belongings but grab whatever you can carry with you." The news was so sudden, so abrupt. Had it not occurred to her that she was in a tremendous amount of pain? Did she not care at all? However, she did what she said in another attempt to please the woman, but what she didn’t realize, was that she would never be coming back. Getting dressed she looked at the appearance of herself in the mirror, finding a beanie she placed it over her bloodstained ears, securing it in place. Grabbing her skateboard, she was immediately ushered out of the house, and quickly into the car. Slowly but surely she began to read the lips of the woman’s mouth, she was on the phone with another person as she drove. And the few words she managed to read were ones that weren’t all that pleasing. Instead of reading her for more, she diverted her gaze; she shouldn’t be ‘listening’ to her anyhow. Upon reaching the airport the mother opened her door, Cecylia quickly followed by opening her own. Stepping out of the vehicle she handed a device over, a cell phone, attempting to read her lips she mentioned the words Contact and Number, the rest of it was unreadable. "I didn’t understand you." She stated, but by then the woman had already closed the back of her door, and was getting into the vehicle herself. There was no goodbye, there was no wave, and she just drove off without looking back. Looking at the piece of paper she had in hand she obediently went to her destination, to the car that would be taking him to her new home. Getting into the sleek black car was something she would dread doing, as the car took off a color began to swim around in her view, blue then it changed to an indigo. The colors kept shifting till they meshed, blazing brighter than they had ever been. Upon glancing in the mirror she caught the face of the driver, a male and stared him down till he gave her his attention, silently of course but a knowing was held on his lips. "You can tell I'm like you, can't you?" The man mused, but not out loud, no his voice was in her head. A shocked expression overtook her face as she blinked, so he did have powers too. "Where are we going?" "Somewhere safe." "Safe?" "Your parents didn't tell you?" "No." "You'll see soon enough." With that the other left her alone, the pressure in her head from his existance dulling, giving her enough peace to drift off to sleep, still tired from the whole ordeal.

    It was a light shaking that caused her to wake up from her slumber, the gaze turned to a woman. His eyes blinked as she began to speak, only being able to read the words that they’ve arrived. As she continued Cecylia pointed to her ears, and a shrug that implied she couldn’t make out what she was saying. The woman extended her hand to help the girl out, and reluctantly she accepted. Looking around the area as she stepped into the blinding sun she realized she was standing in front of a mansion, not a school. It was then she turned to the woman who had retrieved her belongings and the bag that held her skateboard. "I’m sorry." She apologized, and with a smile the woman simply shook her head, and escorted her up the steps of the mansion. As she walked to the main lobby, she was told to wait if she had read the woman's lips correctly. Standing and looking around, as if looking for a stranger that she had no idea of their appearance till a tall, thin, unnaturally redheaded girl appeared at the top of the stairs. Her eyes scanned over her lips, as she seemed to talk faster than he could read as she came closer and closer. She pointed to her ears, "I can’t hear you". Every time she said those words, it was something that really lowered her self-esteem, with a smile the girl stopped and retrieved a piece of paper from a near by table, her hand began to scribble on a piece of paper in cursive. "The principal mentioned you were coming, you must be Cecylia. I'm Jane." She was completely oblivious to what the other was writing as she merely nodded and stared at the colors flowing over the girl. Yellow, red and orange consumed her like dancing flames as the young girl gazed at her intently, blinking she had suddenly realized the girl had been trying to get her attention and was now pointing at the hat, asking why it was soaked in blood. Idly she shrugged mumbling that it didn't matter. Without another word the redhead pulled the hat from her head as the blonde gave a cry in protest. She had been unimpressed, clearly not stunned by the dried blood and the poorly wrapped bandage along the damaged ear. Without wasting any time the girl pulled her away and up the stairs. Before Cecylia knew it as was sitting in a metal plated room that looked like a ship with high-tech medical gear. Another woman had cleaned the wounds with her own ability, which was healing, even though throughout the whole event Cecylia had been protesting. Asking her why she bothered to help ‘someone like her,’ throughout the whole event her lips hadn’t moved, and with gauze along her cut ear she the hat had been discarded into the trash were it was burned. Slowly the red head's lips moved: Get a new hat, that one isn't sanitary. Flabbergasted, she ultimately wandered around the estate for a while, finding the girl she had ran into earlier after she had settled in. Cecylia approached her; she was the only one she knew after all besides the healer. What the blonde didn’t realize was that sooner than she expected she would befriend this girl, no matter how much she hated that her family had deserted her. But slowly as a year passed and she grew a year older, now at the age of sixteen that remorse has died away some as she befriended others, developed new powers and learned to enhance and control them as well as communicate with others although she is Deaf. Yet, a part of her still loathes her family for what they did to her.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXASPIRE TO THE HIGHER
    Insert aspirations

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHERE'S THE LINE?
    Insert allegiance(s). Your options are: A wandering/neutral mutant, a member of the X-Men team, a student at Xavier's school, or a member of the Brotherhood. Add details if you'd like.
AndrogynousFox's avatar

Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
User Image


FACE . THE . F A C T S

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXTHE BOSS OF ME
    doeeyeddarling

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHAT'S IN A NAME?
    Subject WH-1269590. But please call me Wren Alexander Hollingberry.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHO I AM
    Most just call me Doc, even though I inwardly cringe at it. But some have taken to Labrador since that's the main shape I change into. So I guess that's my alias.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHAT I AM
    Proximate but I'm not complaining

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXLAST TIME I CHECKED, I WAS A
    Male... I'm pretty sure nothing has changed about that. Unless I will it, but I happen to like being just the way I am at the present moment.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXCOUNT THE CANDLES
    Twenty-three... I think. I'm not really sure to be honest. I just really like that number.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXMY SPECIAL DAY
    October 31st, is what the records say.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXDISORIENTED
    I believe the term is... Bisexual.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXTHE STATUS QUO
    Single. I've never experienced love, but I'd like to.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWORK, WORK, WORK
    I guess you could say I'm the nurse, and a counselor for the broken hearted. I mainly just tend to wounds and headaches at the mansion. But on the side I work two jobs, at a hospital and the other at a bookstore when I'm not saving humanity.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXRESIDENTIAL
    I used to live in a laboratory located in London, or should I say under the belly of London. Not much to say about that place other than it was very dull. I really don't like to think about it much though. Then I managed to find myself in New York and from there I found myself at the X-Mansion's doors. I have a nice little place in located in the staff dormitories, room 302. But I tend to stay down in the lower level infirmary. But trust me, it's better than a dog crate.

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXKEEPING UP APPEARANCES

    Born with deep brown, musky eyes or so it was recorded, I have bit of serene look to me when you look into my eyes. At least that's what I've been told. They hold wisdom and a sense of suffering that not the everyday average person could be able to understand that I know for sure. My eyes are something that are a window to my soul, but at the same time are not focused on one thing that I am doing. I've been told that it is a hard task to look at me and know what I am thinking; this is something I have trained my eyes to do. Because of the musk, it serves as a way of protection, the musk is mystery—something no one would ever be able to figure out on their own without me telling them. My eyes are something that is brought out by my skin tone and my hair color. Being that of a brownish-orange, my hair often looks extremely fiery only in certain lights. Yet, it always looks messy and unkempt despite the fact that I try to tame it down.

    Weighing at a light, but healthy, weight of 150 lbs, I stand at an average height of 5'10 1/2”. Not overly tall, but not short either, I guess I've always been sort of “small”. Ever since I was a child, I had very tiny bones and often I was shorter than all the others—not to mention I always weighed less as well. Finally at the age of 14, I hit a growth spurt and started to work out feverishly. It was my duty to constantly train, especially if I wanted to be tough and strong. Moving from 5’4” to 5’10 1/2” and 120 lbs to 150 lbs, I have made massive improvement within myself to be better. Not buff, but not skinny, my muscles and body shape are that of lean. Not wanting to be overly buff and look stupid, I mainly work out to the point where you can see my muscle definition and I can bench an impressive amount. I hate the stocky look, so I keep myself at a muscle mass that works well for my body type. Being somewhat small shouldered, but still broad, I'm not type of male that looks like a football player or a sports player. Actually, if I were to play any type of sport, I would probably look the most like a swimmer or a soccer player. Because of my body type, I try to find clothing that fit me well in shape and personality. Other than my uniform for missions, which mainly consists of black, I often will wear earthy toned colors for contrast or the occasional red cotton v-neck. The usually look to find me in is a slim look, all my clothing is fitted, but loose enough to be comfortable. Yet I go for a classy casual look.

    The eyes are the window to the soul - isn't that what everyone always says? Well, then I must have a broken soul. Brown has always been the color of my eyes from what I can tell, but that's not to say that I can't change that at will. After the operation my eyes worked better than ever, but that wasn't the intent of the surgery. The point was to add in some special features. One feature is night vision, very helpful when I need to give someone the slip, because I can take that dark tunnel and know exactly where I'm going. Or better yet, planning an ambush at night against the enemy. Another feature, and my personal favorite, inferred. I can register the 'eat source of anything as long as they are within range. This is effective in preventing ambushes, proving if someone is lying, or what their vitals are in some situations. It also helps to lock on to my targets more efficiently, so that I can aim better. I have exceptional targeting capabilities. I can see great distances in great detail, and focus in on things that I want to get a better look at. It also allows me to read the minute details of a person - the twitch of a muscle, the flick of an eye - and when combined with my enhanced intelligence, it allows me to predict the enemies’ movements and direct my comrades accordingly. Oh, and it also makes me a walking lie detector. Go figure.

    As a matter of fact, yes I do have very interesting scarring. On my chest. It's not that I'm particularly sensitive about them, so I'll wear clothing that shows them off at times. They look much like the branches of trees, stretching from my pectoral out and down to my mid-hips. I like being asked how they were obtained, however...


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXLOOK WHAT I CAN DO

    _ Vitakinesis The ability to control all aspects of a living creature's biological make-up. This includes but is not limited to, genetic alterations, physical distortion/augmentations, healing disease, and biological functions. I can control life on a cellular level. As well as cause cells to augment to induce advanced or declined biological healing, induce diseases like Cancer, induce appearance alteration like hair and iris color change or freckle breakout, evoke sensuality, and even increase physiological maturity. I am immune to all Toxins, Diseases, and Poisons as well and I can manipulate my own cells or the cells of living organisms around me. I can manipulate every aspect of the body from atoms, organelle systems and tissues to organs/their systems, and finally the organism itself. Get this I am also able to control the bodies of others by controlling their muscles. Although I can do other things as well like DNA Replication, DNA Manipulation, Camouflage, Enhanced Condition, Enhanced Regeneration, Environmental Adaptation, Eye Color Manipulation, Healing, Wound Transferal, Nerve Manipulation, Hormone Manipulation, Pheromone Manipulation, Natural Weaponry, Shape shifting, Immortality through cellular regeneration, Activation & Deactivation, Life Creation by controlling cells and Power Augmentation via manipulating DNA. But the use of this ability can be very painful. Also emotions such as extreme excitement or surprise could activate powers in... awkward situations.

    _ Superhuman Intelligence Power of extremely heightened and enhanced intelligence and other mental abilities/skills. I have an immense memory and other mental capacities, allowing me to think on various different levels at once and while multitasking. I can immediately conceive complex formulas and models, possible results and other factors on speed comparable to super-computers as well as recall everything I have ever experienced, connecting and comparing known facts, etc within reason. But I'm prone to headaches and my brain capacity is limited to only certain areas of expertise such as mathematics and various sciences.

    _ Electronic Consciousness The power to have a computer-like consciousness. Users of this ability are rare. We're more similar to computers than to people to be honest. Enhanced Memory and Computer Interaction naturally accompany this ability as well as the ability to control other forms of machinery. I can also interface with computers, data, the Internet and cell phones. I can also store information in folders and never forget it as well as delete my own memories. I can take pictures or videos of whatever I am looking at and store them in my memory for later use as well as learn new languages by downloading them directly to my brain. I also have HUD (heads up display) in my vision, which includes a mini-map, GPS, and a tracker. I am able to write and send computer viruses mentally, hack computers from my own mind, and have constant access to the Internet. Yet, I am vulnerable to Technology Manipulation unless the users are also technopaths. Upon hearing a paradox, I may be rendered unconscious from the overload caused to my brain. I'm also vulnerable to computer-related problems, like Electromagnetic pulse.

xXXXXXXXXXXXXXSTILL LISTENING?
N/A


xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWELL, LISTEN TO THIS
Eat, Sleep, Repeat Copeland

Superhero Simon Curtis



BENEATH . THE . S K I N

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXX<3

      _ Coffee I practically live off this stuff. Need I say more?

      _ Cigarettes I cannot say that I enjoy the act itself so much as I enjoy manipulating the smoke that is the result of the act. I enjoy the ones with interesting scents and colors, though I hardly have a preference of one over the other. I get rather... stressed at times, okay I get stressed out a lot physically and mentally. It's not that I smoke them often since I don't. It's just, I feel more comfortable with them near me since I know I can be calm when I have one while when I don't have them near me, I could snap and not have a way to calm myself. It's a scary thought to me. Besides I like to watch the flames eat away the drag, just watching time pass is entertaining for me. Sometimes I like to make patterns in the smoke with my fingers when boredom settles upon me.

      _ Bombs Oh yay~! Things that go boom. This is something I get some enjoyment out of. Why? It is guilt free! I can damage my opponent without directly killing anyone, by blowing up their buildings or supplies, or just blocking their path. It gives me great satisfaction. But, I rarely get to use them. It's not much of a disappointment to me though - I can easily live without it. But, it is a sole upside for having to do battle despite despising the action with a passion.

      _ Healing It's an out of body experience, literally. When I heal someone I can cast my soul from my body and into the body of my patient, I become a selfless ball of energy within that person. Once inside, I can begin healing; mending the torn flesh, creating anti-venom and spreading it through the system, or just examining the their health. Needless to say there isn't much I can't fix, when it comes to a person's body. Just leave 'em to me.

      _ Sweets There is only one thing one thing I love in complete devotion next to coffee, computers and cigarettes. And that would be sweets. Lollipops are my particular favorite but I'll settle for chocolate, gummy worms, lemon drops, anything. Just glimpsing at the swirls of neon in a circle lump of pure sugar, send a shockwave of pleasure through my mouth. This taking to candy took place when I discovered my love for pale colors, so of course anything edible in that color graph, was automatically tasted, and cherished.

      _ Love Everyone wants that special someone, right? Well, I’m no exception. I get lonely a lot, and I read a lot of romance novels - mostly because I read pretty much anything I can get my hands on, and that isn't always encyclopedias. In a way I do want someone to love me for who I am, and be comfortable and complete with another being - unfortunately, I find it extremely hard to relate to most living things nowadays. And, I can't help not wanting to get close to anyone, with things and everything. I don't want to become more vulnerable than I already am, and I definitely don't want more people for me to lose. I would already be devastated if anyone else that I care for died - I couldn't handle it if it was a closer bond than that, like... a close friend or... a lover.

      _ Computers/Hacking Everyone has to have a hobby, right? Well, I believe mine would be computers, software, video games, hacking you name it. I'm a tad obsessed with such things, to say the least computers are my life... as nerdy as that sounds. I like challenges.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXX</3

      _ Hospitals Okay so, I've never been a huge fan of medicine. Or doctors or nurses or physicians or psychiatrists or any kind of person that tries to learn about my health. My health is mine to worry about, not yours. I guess I've just never been good with people trying to learn about me since I find it rude and prying. I mean for god sakes piss off I can heal myself!

      _ Questions The whos, the whats, the whens, the wheres, and the whys. Just no, stop right there. If you must ask me something make it a good question. I dislike stupid questions and whoever came up with that phrase, 'There's no such thing as a stupid question', is a wanker.

      _ Defeat Oh, I dread it. Whenever that dreadful word is muttered to me, proclamation the inevitable event, I feel like curling up and dying. I can't stand losing, and can't stand the feeling that it is always my fault - it is, of course, because I'm the one who has to make sure things work and run without any bumps in them. And, when things don't go as planned, because I forgot to factor something in. I can't help feeling like I let everyone down, which I hate to do, since it makes it awkward for me to talk to my friends. I feel extremely guilty for some time, and will fling myself into work and new plans, and become obsessed with winning the next battle. It’s bad. And I have nightmares about failing so completely that all my loved ones are dead at my feet, and it is her fault for sending them into a trap. Not many people can really do anything about my depressed, defeated state, however.

      _ Magneto: Should be a given really, but it goes into something deeper if you think about it. Let's just say computers and magnets don't mix well.

      _ Humans: Sounds a tad hypocritical, yea? Let me explain. The majority of humans that I have had the pleasure of encountering in my life have done nothing but ruined me. Like who? Please, don't get me started... because then I won't be able to stop. What about my parents? Oh, you mean the Petri dish I was created in? But look around you have you ever seen a human who had the balls to actually fight on our side or stand up for us? I mean last I recalled we've helped 'em loads. Why not return the favor? Why do you think the bloody war started anyway? Mutants? Is that your answer? Please, you're missing the big picture. Mutants got tired of being treated like dirt by humans, so we merely reacted. I mean, do you think we asked for this? To be different? Hell no. But, I would never harm a human unless they did something... like try to kill me. But then again, been there, done that, not proud of myself. But I still don't have to be their best friend, even if I do turn into man's best friend.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWELL, IF YOU ASK ME

      _ Loyal I stand by the people I'm close to without a trace of hesitation. I fight for the people I care for, and with that there is no possibility of me turning around and stabbing them in the gut. Since I am quite picky with the people that surround me in general, it shouldn't be surprising that I will always make sure to stay by their side after I have picked them. Even if they turn their backs on me, leave me behind, I still like a lost puppy will follow from behind. I will not leave someone, no matter how many rumors are told to me, no matter how much they talk behind my back, till they speak to me directly. Till they look me in the eyes and say, “I do not want you here." Then, I will leave, but that it the only exception. It’s safe to say that deep inside, and plainly on the outside, I have a soul of which is tender and affectionate. My somewhat blunt-honest nature, I'm truly compassionate and down-to-earth. Known for becoming many peoples crutch onto life, I find pleasure in helping everyone move passed his or her problems.

      _ Withdrawn If I seem introverted, it's best not to take it to heart. I just choose to keep to myself at times. While it was quite a while ago that I endured the life I did, I still can recall the fear and pain that engulfed me, and I have come to think that it's better to stay a distance away from others, lest you wish something to happen to you. That's usually how it works, isn't it? People can only hurt if they interact. I typically keep my personal worries and doubts to myself, though I'm quite aware that that does nothing good for me. Still, that just how I am, and even when it comes to my reaction to things, one can see they're somewhat subdued at times. Not that I don't have feelings of course! They're all just bottled up tightly inside so no one can see or get to them. I will admit that it takes a bit to make me relax at times, since I'm always so busy. Yet, I've taken on a distant mask, keeping to myself more than interacting. In a way, it's my... most robotic aspect. Although then again we act differently around others, yes?

      _ Level-Headed If there's one dominant aspect of my personality, I'd say that it's my level-headedness. I'm not the type to get riled up or agitated easily, and in fact, it's quite difficult unless you really push me for I've become more patient with others. I'm able to keep cool under dire situations, thus allowing me to think clearly for the next best course of action. In this same way, I’m also very open to different ideas and different views or perspectives. It's quite truly what made me such an adept learner. I'm also quite optimistic in my mind, though perhaps I can be a bit blunt with others at times.

      _ Optimistic More often then not I seem to have a complete understanding of everything that goes on around me and I tend to make it my duty to stay on top of things. Although if I cannot find the answers myself which is rare then I'll usually look to the Internet or someone who may have knowledge of the subject. Generally speaking, I have been taught the proper way how to act nowadays and therefore you'll usually never find me acting out of line, instead I tend to scold others in that matter. Although at times I feel as if I'm a caged animal. But all the while I still stay optimistic and continue to wear a smile on my face for the sake of others. If I had to guess, I probably take after my mother even though I've never had the chance of meeting her. I try not to hide my emotions from the world though. I always believes that you should do what you feel, and stand up for what you believe in. Despite my past I am optimistic about everything I do, whether it's good or bad. My friends know that no matter what happens in the end, something good will always come from it. Trial and error my friends!


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXUH-OH

      _ Magnets They can completely trash my systems and cause me to overload. And that's not good because then I blackout and that would be really bad. Or worse, but let's switch to lighter topics, yea?

      _ Labs This is a scar in my mind. I have nightmares about labs. The white and stainless steel, the sharp instruments, the chemicals, the sickeningly sterile smell - and, worst of all, the doctors that generally reside in them. My own screams resound in my memory, and I now can no longer even see pictures of labs without freezing up. I couldn't say how I would react to being forced back into one, but I know it is not good. Just going to get the cure was pretty bad, I fainted. This is by far my biggest fear, and with the most reason behind it.

      _ Lightning No, I'm not afraid of thunder storms. I could care less about the storms, or the thunder that follows. It is the giant bolts of pure electricity that make my blood run cold. After a bad experience during my testing years, I have paranoia of being struck by lightning. And, you know flying around in a metal jet during a storm is like scream 'Hit me, hit me!!' Not good. So, yes. When lightning is anywhere in fear of being in the sky, I will be hiding in rubber somewhere, probably relying on someone for comfort, don't you laugh at me!

      _ Viruses This is both a fear and a weakness. I write them, so why do I fear them? That's silly right? Wrong. I fear these because they can be a really big pain in the arse - and I'm quite sure, paranoid in fact that one will be really bad and crash the mainframe. A bigger fear is that it will happen while I'm connected. I exactly can't be for sure what would happen, but I can imagine it would screw with me pretty badly, and I have a slightly irrational fear that they can get into my brain like they do a computer... I mean, I know it is very likely to be impossible, but not many people can become quite so... intimate with computers, as I am, very nearly completely combining with one. Anyway, this is also a weakness due to the fact that I basically run off technology. I contact the X-men members in the field with technology, I maintain the force-field using technology - I do damn near everything utilizing some kind of computer. Therefore, what would a well-placed virus do? Screw my whole system up, and therefore weaken me, since I do not do well with not being prepared. Note the reason for my obsessive need to be completely prepared for any kind of situation.

      _ Forgetting Now, you would think this to be impossible for one with my memory, but there are certain things I can't remember - which is very horrifying for me. I hate the thought of not knowing what happened to me, I despise the fact someone can distress my mind to the point where it doesn't recall certain things. I never had the problem until my testing years, but during that time the injected me with so many drugs and forced me into such a variety of experiments, its a wonder I can as much as I do with such vivid accuracy. However, since they meddled with my memory once, I can't help fearing that it could happen again and... I am positively horrified of forgetting about my purpose. Ever since I was experimented on, I have trouble recalling some past faces, even my own at times from when I was a boy. It is traumatic for me - a person who can remember exactly what I made for breakfast on March seventh, a year back, but can't recall the face of my own parents. It is almost enough to induce panic. This might be why I've never really told anyone much about my past - not even the Headmistress, but then again she may. I just don't want to remember what I've tried so hard to forget.



STORIES . TO . T E L L

    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXBIO MEGA
    The changing of the times is a wondrous event. Innovation and wonder pave the roads of the future, and bright knew minds expand upon the world more than their predecessors could have ever imagined they would. It can be as sudden as the mighty Eros’ arrows, which pierce the heart of young couples and bind them together in the throes of love. This is the story of what became of the love of one of these couples, and the creature that blossomed due to it. Sadly, I cannot recall much of my earlier years for they have all blurred into one horrendous nightmare. But I can tell you what I remember from it. This is my story, my life.

    I was created in an artificial womb. My DNA was taken from a female scientist and her husband. As the DNA was mixed and the egg was put into the womb, I was born after 9 months with my genetics perfected to become what you would call a Super Soldier. I never knew the people who contributed to my birth, I have never uttered the words mother and father in my life, and my home was a dog crate. I was tested for all sorts of experiments all my life up until three years ago for I'm what you would call a mutant. My kind, my breed was prestigious for being one of the most dangerous killers living, something I'm not so proud of now but it's in the past. We assassinated and murdered our targets without being detected; we were, in simple terms, the government's pets that terminated any problem that they had. Be it small thieves that got what was coming to them, or huge enemies that they didn’t wish to deal with. Every assassination, every strange occurrence to anyone that opposed the Government was always originating from us in one way or the other. The Government was feared for the fact that they never had an enemy; we were feared because we killed every enemy they had. We sliced them down without hesitation, be it man, woman, or child. Murdering ran in our blood like the mutant gene did. What made us such excellent killers? The fact that we could change our Biological make-up at will turning us into whatever shape or form we pleased, or maybe it was our Superhuman Intelligence that possessed a computer-like consciousness. We were in a way, the perfect assassins.

    When I was born, it was to be expected that I carry out my purpose for I would be the last of my kind to exist for there were only twenty of us. Anyone who was born after me would be able to live in obliviousness to what we truly did; however, I was no exception to this rule. I was trained in the heart of battle. To be cold and brittle, for if I gave into my emotions I wouldn’t be able to kill others. I started from killing stuffed animals, to living animals, to criminals, and then some. I was the killing prodigy; I cared for nothing and wanted nothing. I found it my purpose to kill – however at that time I was too young to know that that was wrong. With time came change, and if there was one thing I have always hated, it would be change. Our breed tried its hardest to mold itself into a normal life; but that isn't possible if you've only known one thing and that's murder. I in all my innocence thought we had started anew just like the whole new goal of Britain had been, but we wouldn't change. We all hated changing. And we perished, killed off like animals. We were not given aid; we did not get reinforcements or supplies, we as assassins only took care of ourselves as we fled. It had been engraved into our bodies just as the scars that were etched into our flesh. They were the mark we would always bear so that we would not remember what we were. So we wouldn't forget that blood would always be staining our hands, even if no one else could see the red tint and the smell of metal and salty scent. One by one we were retrieved till only eleven of us remained, the others had risked their lives in a fatal attempt at freedom. The cold pelted our skins like tiny knives that pierced through paper, the emptiness prickling our skins as our shackles rose along the hair on our necks. Our limp bodies lay side by side, our glassy eyes looking to nothing but the dull haze above us. We were filled with nothing; not even a heart. Yet as the lightning struck and the windows shattered, the tile slick with rain as it flowed inside like an endless waterfall, we all shared a smile as we sat up, our chests moving in unison. We breathed even if we did not need the simple take in of oxygen, and yet without the familiar beating of our hearts we could move our limbs, we could bring our fingers through our smooth, luxurious hairs.

    There was just one of us however, who stood, her pearly white skin touching the glass delicately, cutting her but giving her no trace of pain, not a drop of red as the cut quickly healed and scarred over. She only laughed, a hysterical, deep laugh that terrorized the others, as they stood back, watching her small form contort and twist as the sound keep erupting from her delicate throat. She did not stop. She did not stop until the glass was washed away from the floor beneath our feet and we tried to stop her, hold her mouth closed as she bit our fingers, the sound never stopping, endless. Her limitless cackling filled the room with dread as drenched stuffing filled every nook and cranny. Only one needed to survive. Rips broke the silence as blurs of bodies contacted one another, sparks of electricity, of lightning illuminating their transparent flight. Down one by one, the bodies that only had a few moments of survival dropped limp once more, their limbs cascading across the floorboards in shreds, porcelain skin like strips of fabric rolled up in twisted forms. Screams, they overtook the laughter, they fulfilled the thirst that she had as she tore us all apart. As we left the life that was brief, we watched in silent remorse as she looked down to us with her sharp golden eyes, the silence overcoming the rain that was an endless drone that dampened our remains. As we held on to the remaining threads of life, she giggled, soft and sweet before leaving us all behind as a rumble of thunder growled in the distance. The ironic thing about this is... a few days later she was found and brought back, left to rot in a cell and die from starvation.

    But it didn't matter for I, am the last of my kind now. When I finally arose, I was in my small room again. The walls were indistinguishable from the door, and there was but one high window, which my frame could not reach. My head buzzed, a ringing so prevalent and loud in my ears and I thought that I might never regain the sound of normality. After a few minutes, however, as I began pacing around, I began to regain some former cognitive thought. For one who processed things as quickly as a computer, it was startling to feel the sluggish drag on my thoughts, horrifying even as I tried to formulate what had happened to me and was unable to form a good sequence of events. My memory had never failed me before - what was going on?

    As I sat there, the gears of my brain struggling to return to perfect working order, a voice sounded from whatever was beyond my small confinement. I couldn't distinguish the words well, but the wall - or rather, door that looked part of the wall - opened to reveal a tall man with greasy, slicked back hair, a crooked nose, and clean shaved chin. His eyes were dark; the color of almonds, with thick, dark, long lashes batting over his feral gaze. Tall and foreboding, he was otherwise unimpressive in looks. As he approached me, I shied away, retracting to the corner of the room to my small plastic dog crate. When he reached out for me, I glared and smacked his hand away hard. "Where am I?!" I demanded, voice horse, words forced out like sandpaper forced against metal. A smile appeared on the other's face, and for a moment, I might have thought him to be gentle. Then his voice rang in the air, tones so low and sinister in nature, the blood drained from my face at the thick Russian accent that purred along. He told me that I had been found and brought back to their facility; he said that I was home. He said that wasn't in good health, they would make me better. He said... that I had nothing to fear, and they would fix everything.

    This time in my life, as I recall is fragmented. Due to whatever they kept administering to me, I only remember the time when they needed me, for at least five years after my capture from what records say. However, of that time, I remember very clearly what they wanted me for, what they needed of me. I was their lab rat - no, they didn't need to wait until I was, seventeen was a fine healthy age. After all, who would notice if a runaway went missing? I was already gone, besides it's not like I had a real family. And starting younger was, in their view, always better. At first, when they woke me, it was to take test. My IQ, mainly. Test after test, the questions became very mundane to me. Philosophy, critical thinking, riddles, puzzles, math, and writing. It was child's play to me. It seemed that they wished to know my capabilities in everything, and after each one, they became more gleeful with me than the last. But their joy meant nothing to me. I was angry, confused, and constantly demanding they give me what I craved the most, freedom. None of them addressed me directly about it, and in time, I stopped asking. It was around this time that I could only dedicate myself to my studies. There was nothing to do, now that the lab made sure I did not train anymore.

    The greasy haired man came and strapped me to a table. He had by his side a myriad of instruments, none of which looked pleasant - especially not when I knew they were supposed to be used against my skin, into my body. A nurse prepared to administer a sediment, but before she injected the needle, the man stopped her. "Are you a complete buffoon? He most be completely conscious for his nerves to connect!" My stomach twisted into knots, as I comprehended what the man meant. Instead of the needle, the nurse inserted a wound up cloth in I mouth, tying it around my head like a gag, and I knew that it was so I wouldn't bite my tongue from the pain.

    How much pain, I had not been prepared for.

    It might have been more pleasant, honestly, if I hadn't of been awake at all. For the scalpel they wielded against my flesh was like a thousand knives cutting into me at once, and the man's strokes were deliberately slow, as if he wanted me to suffer. I tried to scream, and did, muffled as it were, until the burning of my deficient throat burned just as much as my nerves as I was reduced to pitiful whimpers as I forced my body not to convulse, knowing it would only lengthen the process and thus, my pain. I felt as my skin was cut apart, muscles severed, bones dislocated - every waking pain that threatened to throw me into the abyss, but was not allowed to by the man. When I seemed as though I might faint, he had ordered a different drug to be input into my system that would not allow my mind to seek refuge inside itself from the pain. I was left to watch through tear filled eyes as they picked away at my body.

    December 13, 20—

    The subject was observed to be unresponsive after the night. Has not moved an inch or spoken for three weeks. Has been observed to not have eaten or drunk for a few days. It has been discussed that the subject would be forced nutrients if behavior is continued. No casualties or injuries are known. Subject appears to be sleeping deeply.

    I do not breath – to be more specific I do not want to breath, I do not need to breath for long periods of time. I am merely stilling my entire body, without response to any spoken word or action the humans try to do to awake me. I hear them and their small tittering, I feel the desire to laugh at their pitiful forms and scoff at their confidence in controlling me. They will not control me forever, I know this, and even they know this. The beeps that echo inside what I shall now call a “mind” even if it is only an artificial creation of many creative DNA’s all put into one. This mind is not particularly mine per say, if I were to say anything was mine, it would be nothing. Not even the thoughts crossing my head are what I own; they are the greatest Scientist, the greatest Mathematician, and the greatest Warrior. Is it that my name is the only thing that is mine and mine alone? Or is it too, modeled or shared by another? I cannot remember whether or not there was a particular reason to this meaningless thinking. If I were to open my eyes, what would happen?

    Would I see what I wanted to see, or would I be disgusted by it? Would I want to kill the things that disgust me, or would I want to apprehend them? The questions held no answers; it wasn’t just a simple equation I could quickly solve without any basic thought. I wanted to answers. I desired them as much as the people who spoke in muffled voices wanted me to express interest in their existence, reach out to their hands with my own. I was supposed to be the perfect creation, and yet, there were no memories as to tell me if I were not. Was I born this way – or was I something before? I cannot remember, I cannot remember. I cannot remember.

    December 17, 20—

    Subject observed to have opened eyes today. It is believed that the Subject is still unable to talk. Has not been observed to move other then the simple up and down of the chest, has been concluded to be breathing even if it is not needed for the Subject. It has also been concluded that the Subject doesn’t look aimlessly but looks at specific targets. Goal for Subject is basic speech; still no movement detected except for movement of the eyes. No casualties or injuries are known. Subject observed to be conscious.

    I started breathing, even though there was not the need to, it just seemed like everyone else did. To be more human that is what I am expected to be, as to blend in with my surroundings. Do I wish to blend in? When my eyes opened, the light had blinded me as if it were waiting for the moment to penetrate into the dark shade of my irises. I realized that I had seen these colors before, the basic white, and every shade in between. That these small, but important details were related to my memory that had escaped me when I had first got into my consciousness, the new me. With this realization, I realized that I was not born this way. That before I woke in this tube with liquid like acid burning into my skin constantly, I had lived somewhere else?

    But where? Did I have people who spoke to me as if I were a human being, as if I truly existed? Did they hug me, kiss me, and comfort me with their compassion? Who are these humans, these creatures that look back to me ecstatic, glee filling their eyes as they realize that I look back at them? That I have given them recognition? Are these people truly so low that they are gratified by the fact I merely look at them? I pity these creations, really, if it were not for the fact that there was a possibility that I used to be one. Was I?

    December 27, 20—

    Subject has finally begun speaking and moving. It had been discussed that the Subject would be let out soon so that modifications will be made. No injuries or casualties have been detected. Subject appears to have high human intelligence but no recognition of emotion.

    "Get away from me." I am not sure if they can hear me. I am not sure if those excited eyes reflected my own or their desire to have me. Was I really that precious to them? The memories came back to me slowly, but I could only remember the happy ones. The sweet kiss, the success from my first praise from my parents, playing with my childhood friends, cuddling with my love as we talked till we fell asleep. I knew soon, the bad memories would come, but I will still feel nothing because I know that these are just fabrications they've implanted in my brain. I still feel lost, even if I know that I am born from something else. If there were such thing as anger inside me, I would be angrier then angry. I would be angry because I finally knew that these people in white coats were the cause of my new distraught and foreign behavior. I didn't know who I was - and I didn't know the girl in my memories either.

    January —??

    The days blur together, to make weeks, to months, and maybe soon years. How long has it been since I was let out? A minute? An hour? A day? They didn't do anything to me. Not yet. Nothing that really bothered me, anyway, besides running around like a mouse in a cage, with a monster racing after me. It was to build stamina and durability in my mind. I had courage, my past life aided my enhanced abilities of my body, and the scientists were thrilled to realize that I would be the first human soldier they had ever successfully created. For I, was originally human and now even I knew this. As the emotions threatened to overwhelm me, I could only wonder when I would be able to escape. When I could finally see the light in the tunnel at the end, stop looking down at these flailing limbs that appeared whenever they shot acid liquids into my body.

    I don’t feel pain anymore. I don't care to feel pain anymore. If I were to scream as many others have screamed, they would only laugh at me in their own sadistic pleasure. No one would have a shred of mercy; no one would come to my aid. As usual, I was alone. I would always be alone. Many people here scream. I see bodies hauled out every morning and night. The people in white keep telling me it was because they were too weak. Yes, they are too weak. Too weak for me to care. That is what I decided to believe as I lost sight of the human body that I stubbornly always changed back into, no matter how distraught the white ones were when I did. I liked causing them trouble. It seemed to be the only amusement I had left. Don't give up. I screamed in my mind as loud as I could. It was in every fiber of my being. No one deserved to give in to those who took hold of them and shook them around. Who took their heart out and replaced it with void. They could not win. They would never win.

    I will never let them win.

    It was just another day. That was what I thought as my palms rested in my lap, my eyes looking out to nothing as I heard the soft mutterings of the white ones around me, urgent, irritated. Their emotions were such simple things, and I could never quite comprehend them, even if they had finally got a grasp on me too. However, there was no heart for them to originate from. It was only the memories of having them that kept me running, and even then, I had barely any. Only absolute sadness, hate, blood lust, and love would be with me. Perhaps that would be enough, however, I knew it would never be enough. It would never be enough to be human ever again. After weeks of enduring the cruelty, I turned against them all. I didn't know what I was doing, but instincts told me vaguely what should be done. They decided to experiment with modifying my human self. Apparently, there was growing research in the nano field, and they believed that by injecting me with certain programmed nanites, they would serve to enhance my muscles and give me certain super human properties. They injected the formula into my body, and for a few moments, it seemed to work. And then the burning started.

    Blazes of fire seemed to consume me, and the pain crumbled me, begging them to make it stop. My body rejected the nanites, although I contained the necessary genes. They burned through my veins like a virus, but were not allowed access to my muscles - or, perhaps, they had malfunctions. Regardless the devices were neutralized after some minutes by my power of Vitakinesis that had sent cells to destroy the foreign bodies. During this ordeal, something just snapped in me. Perhaps it was my pent up rage from how I was treated, or my sadness for all that had happened to the others, or my horror at the situation, or the combine unbearably of all of them combined with temporarily impaired my sanity. He, I could honestly not tell you. But I do know that, at that point in time, I had managed to grasp a scalpel and thrust it at the doctor, slicing his arm as I jumped off the table. It was not the smartest decision, since I had virtually no control over my legs, which crumpled underneath my weight, sending my body plummeting into a table, which beheld and assortment of tools and beakers. I was assaulted by many of the items on the table, which tipped over onto me, and the most painful of the injuries happened when a glass container shattered, sharps flying into my head, damaging it severely and causing excess bleeding.

    Immobilized, I flailed on the ground, out of my senses, screaming and thrashing and cutting up any person’s feet that tried to approach me. I would recall none of this later, the ordeal recounted to me by a sentimental nurse, but I know that after some time, they captured they once more and, removing the glass, in which they the opportunity to poke around his brain as they hooked me up to a machine. I woke up in the room, as usual, though nothing was really 'usual' anymore. I looked around at the world through a new eyes, and what I saw, how I saw it, was frightening. Every detail was so precise, the focus unnaturally quick as I shifted from near objects to far, and the ability to change view with the simple thought as I shifted through x-ray vision, to infrared and a grid looking feature. I realized then, more than ever before, I was no longer solely human. And there was no way for me to escape the inevitable fate that awaited me on this forsaken journey. The rest is all a blur to me after I managed to escape the lab after hacking through the security systems. I eventually found my way to the X-Mansion and I've been here ever since, which was roughly 4 years ago. But when news of the cure came around I took it. Why? Because didn't want to live with the guilt and regret that tormented me. Not wanting to think about it, I allowed myself to be strapped down once more, the memories flooded back to me as they inserted the needle. But then no more freaky calculating thought process, no more flicking the TV on with my mind, no more self-mending skin... it was all gone. Or so I thought. Slowly after a while his 'gifts' started to make themselves known again except they were coming back full force if not stronger than before. With this I decided to help protect humanity although I still don't exactly trust humans. But for now I'm more than content with just being in the background, helping behind the scenes and mending what is broken here and there.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXASPIRE TO THE HIGHER

    . One word for you. Crosswords. They aren't so popular nowadays, being outdated with their paper and triviality - it is this reason why I buy any I can when I finds them, and I'm deeply grateful to anyone who brings me new ones. My goal is to finish every crossword puzzle created - and I expect that I can do it, too, so long as I can find them all.

    . Travel. After everything is settled, I just don't want to 'settle down'. I want to travel the world, see every thing and anything. Try all I can, especially the food. Also, though I won't admit it, I'd like to have someone there with me. Not necessarily a lover, but just...someone I enjoy being around.


    xXXXXXXXXXXXXXWHERE'S THE LINE?
    I'm a member of the X-Men team although I used to be a student a few years ago; I've long since graduated. But I'm semi-neutral when it comes to humans and mutants. There are bad mutants and there are good mutants, same goes for humans. But I'm more likely to side with my fellow good mutants when it comes to humans. I just really try to avoid conflict if I can.
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‘ {{ _____ x - - - - The Basics «---]



        [ x ] Name ;; Ciaron Anwen Hollingberry
        [ x ] Nicknames ;; Most just call me Tinkerbell, even though I inwardly cringe at it.
        [ x ] Age ;; Twenty-two.
        [ x ] Gender ;; Female... I'm pretty sure nothing has changed about that.
        [ x ] Sexuality ;; I like girls and boys. So I guess I'm Bisexual.
        [ x ] Height and Weight ;; Weighing at a light, but healthy, weight of 120lbs, I'm 5'4", adverage height I believe. Not overly tall, but not short either, I guess I've always been sort of “small”.
        [ x ] Eye color ;; The eyes are the window to the soul - isn't that what everyone always says? Well, then I must have a broken soul. Brown has always been the color of my eyes from what I can tell but they turn black when I'm angry.
        [ x ] Hair color ;; It's originally white blonde but I dye it a lot. But for now it's brown and blonde.
        [ x ] Skin Tone ;; Pale ivory, like china. And the scars? Yes, I have very interesting scarring. On my back. I'm not particularly sensitive about them, so I don't really try covering them. They look much like the branches of trees, stretching down thelength of my back. Please don't ask me how they were obtained... it's a long story.
        [ x ] Piercing ;; Angelbites, cheeks, septum, tunnel-20mm.
        [ x ] Tattoos ;; Just your standard barcode, which sadly my wings don't cover. It makes me feel like some kind of animal.
        [ x ] Image;; Do You Believe In Magic



‘ {{ _____ x - - - - Get to Know me «---]



        [ x ] Family and Friends ;; xxxxx
        [ x ] Personality ;; Loyal - I stand by the people I'm close to without a trace of hesitation. I fight for the people I care for, and with that there is no possibility of me turning around and stabbing them in the gut. Since I am quite picky with the people that surround me in general, it shouldn't be surprising that I will always make sure to stay by their side after I have picked them. Even if they turn their backs on me, leave me behind, I still like a lost puppy will follow from behind. I will not leave someone, no matter how many rumors are told to me, no matter how much they talk behind my back, till they speak to me directly. Till they look me in the eyes and say, “I do not want you here." Then, I will leave, but that it the only exception. It’s safe to say that deep inside, and plainly on the outside, I have a soul of which is tender and affectionate. My somewhat blunt-honest nature, I'm truly compassionate and down-to-earth. Known for becoming many peoples crutch onto life, I find pleasure in helping everyone move passed his or her problems.

        Jagged - I can get very frustrated when things don't go my way, but I get all the more frustrated when I know that I can't do anything about it. I'm probably the most stubborn and determined mutant you will ever meet. I barely let anyone tell me what to do, and normally I'll snap if anyone tries, you're not the boss of me. I will accept some orders, but usually none, if it's from thopse government eggheads no way in hell. I can be quite friendly and warm to others though. But I am cautious about people, meaning my trust doesn't come easy. I have my fears and generally to be "warm, friendly and generous" with you, I have to get a get a good feel from your aura! If I don't get that feel, you can kiss that part about me goodbye. I'm not one to prove my worth, mainly because I believe I'm better than that. If I have to prove my friendship to you, or prove some kind of worth to you, then you might as well kiss that alliance goodbye as well. I'm someone who can tell another person's worth just by talking to him or her for a few minutes. If I as if you are a good friend and are worth it, I'll prove that to you, not because you asked, but because I feel like I owe that much to you at least. Who said I don't have a heart of gold? It’s not my fault that I'm not that welcoming to everyone.

        Optimistic - More often then not I seem to have a complete understanding of everything that goes on around me and I tend to make it my duty to stay on top of things. Although if I cannot find the answers myself which is rare then I'll usually look to the Internet or someone who may have knowledge of the subject. Generally speaking, I have been taught the proper way how to act nowadays and therefore you'll usually never find me acting out of line, instead I tend to scold others in that matter. Although at times I feel as if I'm a caged animal. But all the while I still stay optimistic and continue to wear a smile on my face for the sake of others. If I had to guess, I probably take after my mother even though I've never had the chance of meeting her. I try not to hide my emotions from the world though. I always believes that you should do what you feel, and stand up for what you believe in. Despite my past I am optimistic about everything I do, whether it's good or bad. My friends know that no matter what happens in the end, something good will always come from it. Trial and error my friends!

        Brave - I'm not afraid of anything. That's what I'd like to believe. I'm not afraid of going against an entire army, knowing that my side probably has no possibility that they would win. I am not afraid of getting hurt, or being at the brink of death. However, without fear you cannot be brave. I'm afraid of death and leaving everything I know behind, I'm afraid of losing. Yet I will trek on as if I have no fears so that I will get what I need done.

        Perceptive - Call it women's intuition, but I can definitely tell how everyone is feeling at any point in time. Due to being analytical, I find pleasure in knowing others emotions so that I can help them out when they need it. It's not something I would use to my advantage, but it's definitely something that I could use, however, that's not in my interest. Its not a bad trait to be blessed or born with, because in all honesty my intuition heals me more than it burns me, although I can get into pretty dangerous situations because of it. However, I allow my intuition to grow with me as a person and because of the fact that I allow myself to grow as a person, my heart grows with me as well, giving me a deeper connection to the world around me and its people. Although I figure it must be annoying for people to know that I can read them at whatever time just by looking at them for even five minutes or less, but I use it to help... not scorn. Some might even say that it is almost as if I harness the power of mind-reading abilities, or just pure empathy, but I don't think I do. I just pay attention to detail, a lot. I always seem to know what people may be feeling at any moment in time, whether its happiness, anger, fear, or sorrow. By the simplest means, whether it’s their words, actions, expressions or even their appearance, I can tell how one is feeling. Being aware of a person's attitude or emotions comes with a price, due to knowing how they feel, I truly feel sympathy and I always try my hardest to help them out when I can. Though, not always willing to go up to random strangers and comfort them, I try to do it indirectly. Truly being able to look on the bright side, I am always seen as optimistic and candid. Many claim that I am one of the very few mutants in the world who can see what the world actually has to offer, even in the worst possible situations. Knowing that where there is darkness, there is always light.

          [ x ] Likes ;; Sours - Anything sour, really. I especially loves sour-sweet things, like pineapple! They have a strange combination between the two tastes, and it really stimulates my taste buds! One might think this is particularly weird for a girl - maybe just associates sweets with them - but in fact, sour is the way to my heart. Chocolate is tasty, but it melts fast. A lemon is juicy and can be savored longer - so long as you are careful to not savor it too long! Take care of the teeth!

          Books - Oh, now isn't this original. Yes, I actually like books. The world may now end fully completed. Okay, enough of that! This might seem usual for some peoples, but it is actually quite problematic for anyone who desires finding their way about my room. Key reason? It is filled to the brim with piles upon piles of books. Books of all genres, from fantasy-fiction to non-fiction to tons of medical books, technology manuals - hell, even old magazines. The written word is a passion for me. And, despite having a personal library on the same floor as my room, I'm forced to keep most of my personal books confined to my chambers; otherwise, no one else could ever enter the library without fear of an avalanche. And they do happen. However, I swear that I can navigate the teetering towers of my books perfectly fine, and sleeping with them all over my bed, save for where my body rests, does not affect me the slightest. Many believe this is just because I don't sleep. I do too sleep!

          Technology - Oh yes, you knew this was coming. Technology. It is a beautiful thing. Though it is often warped for evil, it has equal potential to become able for good. Even better, because it is not really alive, it is easily swayed to turn sides, and so long as the better programmer is on your side, no problems can reach you! Woot! However, even then, safety precautions can always be taken care of. But the best thing about technology? Video games! I'm a video game fiend~

          Peace - Oh, this is surprising, isn't it? A member of a revolutionary organization does, indeed, desire peace? Seriously? Oh yes, dead serious. I'm tired of fighting - I want this fighting to to end and peace to fill the world. Of, course, I'm not naive. But a mutant can dream, can't she?

          Love - Everyone wants that special someone, right? Well, I’m no exception. I get lonely a lot, and I read a lot of romance novels - mostly because I read pretty much anything I can get my hands on, and that isn't always encyclopedias. In a way I do want someone to love me for who I am, and be comfortable and complete with another being - unfortunately, I find it extremely hard to relate to most living things nowadays. And, I can't help not wanting to get close to anyone, with things and everything. I don't want to become more vulnerable than I already am, and I definitely don't want more people for me to lose. I would already be devastated if anyone else that I care for died - I couldn't handle it if it was a closer bond than that, like... a close friend or... a lover.

          [ x ] Dislikes ;; Hospitals - Okay so, I've never been a huge fan of medicine. Or doctors or nurses or physicians or psychiatrists or any kind of person that tries to learn about my health. My health is mine to worry about, not yours. I guess I've just never been good with people trying to learn about me since I find it rude and prying. I mean for god sakes piss off!

          Jokes - I'm surprising humorless when it comes to jokes. Seriously. Don't tell jokes around me, because all you get will be blank stares and a contradictory question - like why would a chicken be anywhere near the road. I don't even realize if I'm being funny. Due to another surprising lack of common sense, I do not get mature jokes, and my reaction and question to such jovial entertainment pranks is often funnier than the proposed statement. In fact, I sometimes look up things I don't get, and I will return later to question why such a thing would be funny. How is a chicken crossing a road funny? It could get hit by a car...

          Defeat - Oh, how much I dread that word. Whenever I hear that horrid word, proclamation the inevitable event, I feel like curling up and dying. I can't stand losing, and can't stand the feeling that it is always my fault - it is, of course, because it always is. And, when things don't go as planned, its because I forgot to factor something in. I have nightmares about failing those I love completely that all my loved ones are dead at my feet, and it is my fault. So in other words defeat is not an opinion in my mind, no matter how much I'm kicked around.

          Guns - Shiny, metal, long range, and deadly - does it get any worse? Of course it does - they're dangerous! To me they are simply a means to an end. My end? I sure hope not. I mean one pull of that trigger and I could be a goner, shot down like a bird. So no, I'm not a fan of guns. Plus, they're rather loud and displeasing to the ears.

          Humans - Sounds a tad hypocritical, yea? Let me explain. The majority of humans that I have had the pleasure of encountering in my life have done nothing but ruined me. Like who? Please, don't get me started... because then I won't be able to stop. What about my parents? Oh, you mean the Petri dish I was created in? But look around you have you ever seen a human who had the balls to actually fight on our side or stand up for us? I mean last I recalled we've helped 'em loads. Why not return the favor? Why do you think the bloody war started anyway? Mutants? Is that your answer? Please, you're missing the big picture. Mutants got tired of being treated like dirt by humans, so we merely reacted. I mean, do you think we asked for this? To be different? Hell no. But, I would never harm a human, unless they had a gun or something.

        [ x ] Routine ;; xxxxx
        [ x ] Weakness ;; Labs - This is a scar in my mind. I have nightmares about labs. The white and stainless steel, the sharp instruments, the chemicals, the sickeningly sterile smell - and, worst of all, the doctors that generally reside in them. My own screams resound in my memory, and I now can no longer even see pictures of labs without freezing up. This is by far my biggest fear, and with the most reason behind it.

        Lightning - No, I'm not afraid of thunder storms. I could care less about the storms, or the thunder that follows. It is the giant bolts of pure electricity that make my blood run cold. After a bad experience during my testing years, I have paranoia of being struck by lightning. And, you know flying around during a storm is like screaming 'Hit me, hit me!!' Not good. So, yes. When lightning is anywhere I have a fear of being in the sky, I will be hiding in rubber somewhere, probably relying on someone for comfort.

        [ x ] Strength;; Flight - Up in the skies, it's absolutely wonderful. For some reason, it makes me feel a lot more stronger, more in control, and it's a great advantage in battle. So it isn't very surprising that I use it often, even though I'm a bit rough when I first start off. I mean, these wings aren't just for show. However, they are fairly obstructive to me, and I tried not using them for the longest time to avoid drawing unwanted eyes, but then they started cramping up and I had to stretch them out. But honestly, how am I supposed hide these? Wearing overly large, Winter jackets in July looks a little weird, yea?

        Tactics - What to do when plans are uprooted and danger imminent? Apply tactics. Luckily, I'm full of them. From my extensive reading and studying of ancient as well as modern battle events, I have become very good at accordingly applying tactics to fit different circumstances. When plans fall through and it seems I have been outwitted, I decisively try to solve my mistakes. These usually consist of escape maneuvers, if things are going absolutely sour, or bluffs and battle formations.

        Strategy - Every general has an ace up his sleeve, right? Cunning, deceptive, and well-versed in the art of war, I can be a tough opponent in any strategic game, especially war. But I can't led anything alone.

        Martial Arts - My main goal revolves around defense. Think that is all I knows You'd be wrong. Even the best defense, if pushed into a corner, will eventually break. So, I'm sure to have all my bases covered. I know multiple martial arts, most from her training to become a 'soldier'. They didn't care about the fact I didn't want to fight - my situation was do or get the crap beat out of you. I was persuaded to learn rather than feel pain. And so, I did indeed learn. And excel. Then again, I excel at most things that I try. Most, not all - but that isn't the point here, is it? So one of my key advantages and ability is my skill in close combat - utilizing the martial arts, while in mid-air. You try it and see how hard it is, it's not easy to manage,

        [ x ] History ;; The changing of the times is a wondrous event. Innovation and wonder pave the roads of the future, and bright knew minds expand upon the world more than their predecessors could have ever imagined they would. It can be as sudden as the mighty Eros’ arrows, which pierce the heart of young couples and bind them together in the throes of love. This is the story of what became of the love of one of these couples, and the creature that blossomed due to it. Sadly, I cannot recall much of my earlier years for they have all blurred into one horrendous nightmare. But I can tell you what I remember from it. This is my story, my life.

        October 31st, year unknown. First and only daughter of the Hollingberry family, a family that has been a prominent influence in wales since the the late 1800s. Because they come from ancient money and thus have an appearance to keep up. When the two newly parents gazed upon the wide, coal black eyes of their daughter, they thought, there must be some mistake. My father got furious and accused my mother of sleeping around. When it was confirmed that both were the parents - things became a lot more awkward in the house hold after that. I was then tested for albinism, that also proved futile. Being rather religious my mother was convinced that I was a demon sent to punish them for some past mistake.

        In my early childhood I saw little to nothing of my parents. I was cared for by a group of nannies. I had one to watch her while she slept, one that fed me, one that picked my clothes - which usually consisted of frilly dresses. Finally, one to play with me and teach me - this was my favorite, because she felt the most like family. By the time I was five I was reading rather fluently and starting to learn other languages, such as English, German, Polish and French. This pleased my parents, it made them forget for a moment that they were ashamed of me. Later I took on more lessons. After academics I started to learn to play the Cello, dance, sing, cook and more to make me a proper young woman. The only time I saw my mum and dad was during our awkward dinners together each night and when they came to evaluate my performance.

        In my early preteens I hardly ever saw my parents and received no love, but I got to start attending private school. At first I was new and exciting, she was shy and unusual looking, but that quickly became old. Not soon after I started getting bullied and picked on. I hid it easily from my parents that seemed to take no notice what so ever that I'd seem upset. After weeks of the bullying I finally snapped, going off on everyone. Then something happened... they started acting real funny... and some kids even started screaming and punching at the air. Confused I was left to stare as the teachers came over demanding to know what was going on, before I knew it I was being blamed for punching one of the kids and making him cry, but I didn't even touch him. My parents were called...neither came and so I was driven home by one of my maids. The teachers told them the situation, she stood quietly and listened, then said thank you and excused us, bowing in apology for my trouble. Once the door was closed, she just said for me to go to my room and that my parents would deal with me later. They didn't bother asking me what had gone wrong, they just grounded me for a week. After that I was withdrawn from school and was homeschooled again till I turned fifteen.

        In this new school I didn't make the mistake of thinking it would be any different, I became indifferent and antisocial and just glared at anyone who dared stare at me. I was quickly accepted into a group, which I became the leader of in no time. A month later this Mutant thing had exploded to phenomenal proportions! My parents on the other hand agreed with it, that mutants were bad. Thinking that these freaks should be taken out of society. It came as a huge shock to me that I was found positive for the gene, I was a mutant. But as I was being hauled off... I remember screaming to my parents for help as my shirt ripped open and exposed my wings, but all I heard was my mother's sobs of happiness as she whispered, "Finally...thank you...thank you..." I went silent after that and allowed myself to be taken away by them. That's the last I recall from my past before they injected me with a needle, then everything faded out.

        When I finally arose, I in a small room. The walls were indistinguishable from the door, and there was but one high window, which my frame could not reach. My head buzzed, a ringing so prevalent and loud in my ears and I thought that I might never regain the sound of normality. After a few minutes, however, as I began pacing around, I began to regain some former cognitive thought. For one who processed things as quickly as I did, it was startling to feel the sluggish drag on my thoughts, horrifying even as I tried to formulate what had happened to me and was unable to form a good sequence of events. My memory had never failed me before - what was going on?

        As I sat there, the gears of my brain struggling to return to perfect working order, a voice sounded from whatever was beyond my small confinement. I couldn't distinguish the words well, but the wall - or rather, door that looked part of the wall - opened to reveal a tall man with greasy, slicked back hair, a crooked nose, and clean shaved chin. His eyes were dark; the color of almonds, with thick, dark, long lashes batting over his feral gaze. Tall and foreboding, he was otherwise unimpressive in looks. As he approached me, I shied away, retracting to the corner of the room to the small plastic dog crate that served as a bed. When he reached out for me, I glared and smacked his hand away hard. "Where am I?!" I demanded, voice horse, words forced out like sandpaper forced against metal. A smile appeared on the other's face, and for a moment, I might have thought him to be gentle. Then his voice rang in the air, tones so low and sinister in nature, the blood drained from my face at the thick Russian accent that purred along. He told me that I had been found and brought back to their facility; he said that I was home. He said that wasn't in good health, they would make me better. He said... that I had nothing to fear, and they would fix everything.

        This time in my life, as I recall is fragmented. Due to whatever they kept administering to me, I only remember the time when they needed me, for at least five years after my capture from what records say. However, of that time, I remember very clearly what they wanted me for, what they needed of me. I was their lab rat - no, they didn't need to wait until I was, fifteen was a fine healthy age. After all, who would notice if a runaway went missing? I was already gone, besides it's not like I had a real family anymore. And starting younger was, in their view, always better. At first, when they woke me, it was to take test. My IQ, mainly. Test after test, the questions became very mundane to me. Philosophy, critical thinking, riddles, puzzles, math, and writing. It seemed that they wished to know my capabilities in everything, and after each one, they became more gleeful with me than the last. But their joy meant nothing to me. I was angry, confused, and constantly demanding they give me what I craved the most, freedom. None of them addressed me directly about it, and in time, I stopped asking. It was around this time that I could only dedicate myself to my studies. There was nothing to do, the lab made sure of that, always keeping me busy so I didn't figure out things. They had figured out a way to stop my dust from affecting them and they had bound my wings so I could not fly.

        This is probably my most vivid memory, one I still shudder at. The greasy haired man came for me, he dragged me from my dog crate and strapped me to a table. He had by his side a myriad of instruments, none of which looked pleasant - especially not when I knew they were supposed to be used against my skin, into my body. A nurse prepared to administer a sediment, but before she injected the needle, the man stopped her. "Are you a complete buffoon? She most be completely conscious!" My stomach twisted into knots, as I comprehended what the man meant. Instead of the needle, the nurse inserted a wound up cloth in I mouth, tying it around my head like a gag, and I knew that it was so I wouldn't bite my tongue from the pain.

        How much pain, I had not been prepared for.

        It might have been more pleasant, honestly, if I hadn't of been awake at all. For the scalpel they wielded against my flesh was like a thousand knives cutting into me at once, and the man's strokes were deliberately slow, as if he wanted me to suffer. I tried to scream, and did, muffled as it were, until the burning of my deficient throat burned just as much as my nerves as I was reduced to pitiful whimpers as I forced my body not to convulse, knowing it would only lengthen the process and thus, my pain. I felt as my skin was cut apart, muscles severed, bones dislocated - every waking pain that threatened to throw me into the abyss, but was not allowed to by the man. When I seemed as though I might faint, he had ordered a different drug to be input into my system that would not allow my mind to seek refuge inside itself from the pain. I was left to watch through tear filled eyes as they picked away at my body and tore my wings, like I was an insect.

        December 13, 20—

        The subject was observed to be unresponsive after the night. Has not moved an inch or spoken for three weeks. Has been observed to not have eaten or drunk for a few days. It has been discussed that the subject would be forced nutrients if behavior is continued. No casualties or injuries are known. Subject appears to be sleeping deeply.

        I do not breath – to be more specific I do not want to breath, I want to die. I am merely stilling my entire body, without response to any spoken word or action the humans try to do to awake me. I hear them and their small tittering, I feel the desire to laugh at their pitiful forms and scoff at their confidence in controlling me. They will not control me forever, I know this, and even they know this. The beeps that echo inside what I shall now call a “mind” even if it is only an artificial creation of many creative DNA’s all put into one. This mind is not particularly mine per say, if I were to say anything was mine, it would be nothing. Not even the thoughts crossing my head are what I own; they are just a fabrication. Is it that my name is the only thing that is mine and mine alone? Or is it too, modeled or shared by another? I cannot remember whether or not there was a particular reason to this meaningless thinking. If I were to open my eyes, what would happen?

        Would I see what I wanted to see, or would I be disgusted by it? Would I want to kill the things that disgust me, or would I want to apprehend them? The questions held no answers; it wasn’t just a simple equation I could quickly solve without any basic thought. I wanted to answers. I desired them as much as the people who spoke in muffled voices wanted me to express interest in their existence, reach out to their hands with my own. I was supposed to be the perfect creation, and yet, there were no memories as to tell me if I were not. Was I born this way – or was I something before? I cannot remember, I cannot remember. I cannot remember.

        December 17, 20—

        Subject observed to have opened eyes today. It is believed that the Subject is still unable to talk. Has not been observed to move other then the simple up and down of the chest, has been concluded to be breathing even if it is not needed for the Subject. It has also been concluded that the Subject doesn’t look aimlessly but looks at specific targets. Goal for Subject is basic speech; still no movement detected except for movement of the eyes. No casualties or injuries are known. Subject observed to be conscious.

        I started breathing, even though there was not the need to if I wanted to die, it just seemed like everyone else did. To be more human that is what I am expected to be, as to blend in with my surroundings. Do I wish to blend in? When my eyes opened, the light had blinded me as if it were waiting for the moment to penetrate into the dark shade of my irises. I realized that I had seen these colors before, the basic white, and every shade in between. That these small, but important details were related to my memory that had escaped me when I had first got into my consciousness, the new me. With this realization, I realized that I was born this way. That before I woke in this tube with liquid like acid burning into my skin constantly, had these wires always been here? Had I lived somewhere else?

        But where? Did I have people who spoke to me as if I were a human being, as if I truly existed? Did they hug me, kiss me, and comfort me with their compassion? Who are these humans, these creatures that look back to me ecstatic, glee filling their eyes as they realize that I look back at them? That I have given them recognition? Are these people truly so low that they are gratified by the fact I merely look at them? I pity these creations, really, if it were not for the fact that there was a possibility that I used to be one. Was I?

        December 27, 20—

        Subject has finally begun speaking and moving. It had been discussed that the Subject would be let out soon so that modifications will be made. No injuries or casualties have been detected. Subject appears to have high human intelligence but no recognition of emotion.

        "Get away from me." I am not sure if they can hear me. I am not sure if those excited eyes reflected my own or their desire to have me. Was I really that precious to them? The memories came back to me slowly, but I could only remember the happy ones. The sweet kiss, the success from my first praise from my parents, playing with my childhood friends, cuddling with my love as we talked till we fell asleep. I knew soon, the bad memories would come, but I will still feel nothing because I know that these are just fabrications they've implanted in my brain. I still feel lost, even if I know that I am born from something else. If there were such thing as anger inside me, I would be angrier then angry. I would be angry because I finally knew that these people in white coats were the cause of my new distraught and foreign behavior. I didn't know who I was - and I didn't know the girl in my memories either.

        January —??

        The days blur together, to make weeks, to months, and maybe soon years. How long has it been since I was let out? A minute? An hour? A day? They didn't do anything to me. Not yet. Nothing that really bothered me, anyway, besides running around like a mouse in a cage, with a monster racing after me. It was to build stamina and durability in my mind. I had courage, my past life aided my enhanced abilities of my body, and the scientists were thrilled to realize that I would be the first human soldier they had ever successfully created. For I, was originally human and now even I knew this. As the emotions threatened to overwhelm me, I could only wonder when I would be able to escape. When I could finally see the light in the tunnel at the end, stop looking down at these flailing limbs that appeared whenever they shot acid liquids into my body.

        I don’t feel pain anymore. I don't care to feel pain anymore. If I were to scream as many others have screamed, they would only laugh at me in their own sadistic pleasure. No one would have a shred of mercy; no one would come to my aid. As usual, I was alone. I would always be alone. Many people here scream. I see bodies hauled out every morning and night. The people in white keep telling me it was because they were too weak. Yes, they are too weak. Too weak for me to care. That is what I decided to believe as I lost sight of the human body that I stubbornly always changed back into, no matter how distraught the white ones were when I did. I liked causing them trouble. It seemed to be the only amusement I had left. Don't give up. I screamed in my mind as loud as I could. It was in every fiber of my being. No one deserved to give in to those who took hold of them and shook them around. Who took their heart out and replaced it with void. They could not win. They would never win.

        I will never let them win.

        It was just another day. That was what I thought as my palms rested in my lap, my eyes looking out to nothing as I heard the soft mutterings of the white ones around me, urgent, irritated. Their emotions were such simple things, and I could never quite comprehend them, even if they had finally got a grasp on me too. However, there was no heart for them to originate from. It was only the memories of having them that kept me running, and even then, I had barely any. Only absolute sadness, hate, blood lust, and love would be with me. Perhaps that would be enough, however, I knew it would never be enough. It would never be enough to be human ever again. After weeks of enduring the cruelty, I turned against them all. I didn't know what I was doing, but instincts told me vaguely what should be done. They decided to experiment with modifying my human self. Apparently, there was growing research in the nano field, and they believed that by injecting me with certain programmed nanites, they would serve to enhance my muscles and give me certain super human properties. They injected the formula into my body, and for a few moments, it seemed to work. And then the burning started.

        Blazes of fire seemed to consume me, and the pain crumbled me, begging them to make it stop. My body rejected the nanites, although I contained the necessary genes. They burned through my veins like a virus, but were not allowed access to my muscles - or, perhaps, they had malfunctions. Regardless the devices were neutralized after some minutes by my body that had sent cells to destroy the foreign bodies. During this ordeal, something just snapped in me. Perhaps it was my pent up rage from how I was treated, or my sadness for all that had happened to the others like me, or my horror at the situation, or the combine unbearably of all of them combined with temporarily impaired my sanity. I could honestly not tell you. But I do know that, at that point in time, I had managed to grasp a scalpel and thrust it at the doctor, slicing his arm as I jumped off the table. It was not the smartest decision, since I had virtually no control over my legs, which crumpled underneath my weight, sending my body plummeting into a table, which beheld and assortment of tools and beakers. I was assaulted by many of the items on the table, which tipped over onto me, and the most painful of the injuries happened when a glass container shattered, sharps flying into my head, damaging it severely and causing excess bleeding.

        Immobilized, I flailed on the ground, out of my senses, screaming and thrashing and cutting up any person’s feet that tried to approach me. I would recall none of this later, the ordeal recounted to me by a sentimental nurse, but I know that after some time, they captured me once more and, removing the glass, in which they the opportunity to poke around more and hook me up to this machine that would test my lungs... they said something about altitude before they slipped a mask over my face. Slowly I found it hard to breath after a while, as if the air was being forced from my lungs, then I blacked out. I woke up in the room, as usual, though nothing was really 'usual' anymore. I looked around at the world through a new eyes, and what I saw, how I saw it, was frightening. I realized then, more than ever before, as I looked over my bruised and tormented body that I was no longer solely human. And there was no way for me to escape the inevitable fate that awaited me on this forsaken journey. The rest is all a blur to me after I managed to escape the lab by managing to hit a pressure point on my guard, and they say you can't learn things from movies. After that I managed to trick a guard into undoing the bindings on my wings and I eventually found my way to the States, hiding out here and there in abandoned buildings. Clothing that hid my wings was really hard to get though. Then found the X-Mansion and I've been here ever since... and now I'm back in a lab.



‘ {{ _____ x - - - - The Team «---]



        [ x ] I belong to the ;; X-men
        [ x ] Abilities;; Hallucikinesis/Pixie Dust: I have the ability to produce a glitter-like substance that when coming into contact with living creatures it causes hallucinations, tricking them into perceiving unreal things, they're not tangible, but can be very realistic. Sometimes it can cause the imagination to overact, resulting in paranoia and delirium. But I have no idea what individuals affected by my dust are seeing.

        Faery Physiology - The power to use the abilities and traits of faeries. I can also gain a physiology of pure energy, and yes... I have pointy ears.

        Flight: I possess insect-like wingsthat allow me to fly. My wings are iridescent and translucent, like those of a dragonfly. But their appearance is affected by my psychological state and sometimes they turn black.

        Teleportation - The power to instantaneously move from one location to another without physically occupying the space in between. I can pretty move somewhere without physically traveling. I just think of a destination, say a spell and can appear there at will.

        [ x ] Weapon of Choice ;; Weapon? Well, I'm not really for guns and violence so I guess my Pixie Dust is sort of a built in weapon. But I can do hand-to-hand combat.
        [ x ] Status ;; ((Is your character currently taking in any part of forming any group? xxxxx))
        [ x ] Alignment ;; X-Men



‘ {{ _____ x - - - - Behind The Mask «---]



AndrogynousFox's avatar

Beloved Pup

7,350 Points
  • The Wolf Within 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Risky Lifestyle 100
doeeyeddarling
M a r e k G r z e s k i e w i c z ` ║▌║the second in command* )

User ImagexXxXUser ImageXxXxUser Image

                      SAILAWAY from the shore
                      xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀ ▀▀
                      Captain Captain
                      Before the sail rips
                      Captain Captain
                      I can see enemy ships
                      Captain Captain
                      Before the sail rips
                      Gasp for air
                      ABANDON ALL SHIPS

                      -g o d -i s-y o u r - c a p t a i n! - x

              the currents strong
              the waves will rise
              the binding chains made me realize
              sin is the anchor
              holding you down
              i'm on a cruise to paradise
              i'm done with sin
              i've paid my price

              ` XXXX ███████ x

              abandon all ships ! x `



                          ‘And today's weather is...’ The thick black plastic low quality stereo hissed to life. The volume dial was completely to maximum…though with the softness of the speakers voice, gave no fearful jerks of awakening. Waking up in the morning has probably always been a difficult task for a lot of people. And for this particular male mornings were never his favourite time of the day. His alarm clock went off blasting it’s horrid shrieking just as the radio had been silenced, echoing across the room if you could even classify the small space as such. The young man wasn’t willing to succumb to it’s irritating music. So instead of getting out of bed, he hid himself under the gray sheets and shoved a pillow over his head, in hopes that it would drown out the sound. Unfortunately, that didn’t solve his problem, since he could still hear it’s sharp yelps. Cholerny…’ He muttered in Polish with a grunt following after Why did I put the damn thing so far away?…’ the alarm clock was purposely placed far from his reach due to him always pressing the snooze button every time it acted up. Which did not really help him attendance wise, since he has been known to oversleep. Showing up late in the clothes he wore the day before without a care about how he looked.

                          Simply dropping his arm from the hot covers, to the cold floor, flopping his wrist around as if it were a fish, the smooth buttons came to just above the head of a snoring doberman. Pressing pause the sleeping figure arose from the plain gray sheet clad bed, his only pieces of furniture in the entire room aside from the dresser that sat across from the bed and the wooden desk set off to the side that held a laptop and a couple of books. Tossing the heavy mauve comforter and gray sheets from his now shivering naked body, Marek sat upright immediately with a low moan, brushing his slender digits rapidly though the tangled dark mess, called hair as his other hand pressed on the hot flesh of his neck. Smiling tiredly through the hazy filthy feeling that came along hand in hand with the morning… he gently tapped his bare toes against the floor, secretly adjusting them to it’s freezing welcome. Looking around he silently noted that the room itself was an eyesore; it was too boring, too normal… too quiet despite the slumbering beasts that surrounded him. Smacking his lips, forcing playful echo throughout the lonely, empty hall. Standing up quickly, his bottom lip automatically sucked into his mouth causing his teeth to bite into the thick flesh. Holding back from the adorable yelp that wished to scream from the sudden change lacking heat. Unwillingly, the dark haired male dragged his a** out of bed grumbling to himself as he moved over towards the hall on his toes. Hot. That's how he felt as he stumbled his way down the hall despite how cold it was. Hot. Breathing heavily, heart pounding uncontrollably, face red, and sweaty. He felt sticky and uncomfortable, like some teenage girl who just received her first kiss from the 'hottest guy' in the school on their first date. Hair a mess with no clothes and sweaty skin. Sloppily making his way to bathroom as he crept quietly over the slumbering dogs that occupied his home as to be careful not to wake them.

                          Shutting the door quietly behind him he stretched his body, letting out a yawn feeling every muscle in his body stretch and relax as he stood in the dark. Shaking his head he skillfully found the light switch hiding in the abyss, quickly flicking the light he averted his eyes from the mirror out of fear as he let his eyes adjust to horrible florescent lighting that buzzed morbidly. Turning his head he leaned over the sink and stared at himself in the cracked mirror. His eyes quite tired looking and squinty, a couple of lines were imbedded in his skin due to his blankets being bunched up and there was a little drool on the right side of his mouth. Suddenly his stomach lurched almost into his mouth as he began to dry heave. His body racked with every movement as the action went on for sevrel moments till he could heave no more. “God, I look like s**t…” He muttered to himself in his airy yet raspy voice that held a thick accent as he gazed at his even paler reflection covered in a glossy sheen of sweat. He had been far too busy tending to 'business' to even think about feeding himself.

                          Turning the tap on, he watched as the water flowed out, before placing his hand in to check the temperature. He scooped up the liquid using both his hands and splashed it over his face, washing away his sleepy expression then drank some to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth. As the cool temperature water clashed with that of his even colder hands a shiver ran down his body as a moan erupted from him. Splashing the cool droplets against his face he then stuck his entire head beneath the faucet. Breathing lightly as he felt his feverish worries wash away with the water. It felt so good, even though he typically hated getting drenched in water. The thick layer of sweet sweat that was resting against his skin washed away, leaving behind a clean and new feeling. Letting his dark blue almost navy eyes sweep over his body he took in the brilliant scars and white tattoos that were etched in his skin. His eyes stayed on the ever present white bandages that snaked around his left shoulder and over his pectoral, covering the not-too-recent-but-recent bullet wound. Snorting he climbed into the glass shower. The hot water gave a loud scream though the pipes, as it squeezed into his shower-head. Spraying the dry goose bump infested male in hot steaming pleasurable water. The once goofy hair, was now tamed down and grew needy, connecting with the small streams of water that fell off his body hitting the hollow ground with an ever so faint plop. He usually kept his lathering time to about seven minutes max, but since he wasn’t really in a rush so he continued to let the water crash over him as he leaned against the cool tile. Twenty minutes passed, and the sound of running water disappeared.

                          All that could be heard were the little droplets of water that fell from the tips of his dark locks and his pale body hitting the small puddle of water at base of the shower. Drying himself off and wrapping the towel around his waist, he cleared the mirror of it's frosty fog. Catching his reflection the thin smile of sheer pleasure vanished just as quickly as it had come. His head tilted lightly to the left. Bringing his hand to the thick clumps of wet hair he began twirling the tips around his, slender fingers musing them even more. Furiously he scrubbed the shampoo into his hair and let it rinse out as he watched the bubbles glide down his pale flesh. Water off and he was out. A towel around his waist and another over his head as he walked back down the hall to his room and promptly shut the door behind him, as he got dressed in the privacy of his own room. His body yearned for the cigarettes that laid waiting on top of his dresser. His mind on the strong, natural taste of the cigarettes. With a slight smile curving across his lips he popped a cigarette into his mouth, the filter moistening under his soft pink lips as he lit up and expelled the smoke through his nose after he tugged a plain red deep v-neck over his torso. Humming lightly he took in his surroundings with minor interest as he fixed a leather belt to hold up his dark skinnies as his dogs began to wake from the noise around him. Silently he sat back on his bed and slipped on his leather boots as a pure black german stood and pressed his nose against the man's leg with a whine. "Dobrze... dobrze..." He sighed with a chuckle, running a hand down his face he stood up slowly and stretched again, his joints popping loudly in protest as stumbled through the threshold expelling a wispy stream of light gray, that curling and stretch out around him as he walked through the apartment. To those who didn't know the man he was seen as unpredictable and if not extremely questionable and many thought he was most definitely not all there in his pretty little head... but then again who was to judge him?

                          Making his way through the halls he pulled out two large bags of dog food and tore them open, the sounds of pawsteps thumped across the floor boards making him smile. There had to be at least thirteen dogs in this building if not more, Marek had lost count of how many of the beasts he had collected over the months even years. Silently he made his rounds to each bowl and bucket and checked the water as the dogs ate to their content. With a smile he kenlt to scratch behind the ears of a doberman as he murmured softly to him in Polish, the dog's ears flicked at every word as his tail wagged idly. Silently Marek pushed on only leaving his scent in the air. Forcing back a yawn he moved to the hall again. The hour of the day wasn't even late, and yet he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He wanted nothing more then to go back to his room and sleep, for there he stayed into the late and early hours of the day. Fighting with his own will power trying his hardest not to fall into what felt like an endless sleep to only be awoken rudely and coaxed from his room once more. He needed food... or coffee... whatever came first. Half asleep he wandered towards his bedroom to grab his wallet and cellphone before he shut and locked the door to his room continuing his mission down towards the street. He jogged down the stairs feeling most comfortable on the highest level of the building as he gave a sharp whistle. It was an odd comfort being in a tower, like nothing could touch him. He knew it was silly but at the same time it provided a level of comfort for him. Pushing open the stair door he looked around his eyes relaxed for a minute as he lit up a second cigarette and relaxed a bit as he felt a wet nose touch his hand, the sherperd from before flanking his side. He looked around the main area his eyes examining the place for anything suspicious. Placing his hand on his stomach as the gentle rumble reached his ears. Food sounded nice right now. Slipping out of the front doors of the he looked around his surroundings again then shut and locked the front door to his home. The dogs had everything under control since one had to be pretty ignorant to snoop around there lest they wanted to risk the chance of being mauled.

                          The crisp wind played with his hair as he strode down the sidewalks of the Avaritia District, careful to avoid any of the highly populated areas as the sheperd whom he had named Dobry followed alongside him, his ears perked to attention. When Marek could, he would duck behind buildings and find shortcuts to get there quicker and without detection to the Fornicatio District. He wasn't exactly hiding himself by any means, but he wasn't about to run around and give himself away either. He knew better, and he knew how this world worked. He still had a lot of work ahead of him, and a lot more to do with his life. He couldn't settle down quite yet. But then again who said anything about settling down? He had things to do, people to meet, mindsets to change. He wasn't out to save the world, maybe save some poor souls, but not the world. But he wasn't going to leave it to rot before him, either. Sometimes he thought about things like this, and sometimes he got raging headaches. Luckily, this morning with the air flowing through his nostrils, he kept the pounding in his head at bay as he thought back to the Greed Organization. Each of the members worried about one thing after the next income, love life, bringing down the bad guys and reputation. None of it, in reality, mattered or at least not to him... well maybe income and bringing down the Machine but not for himself. Hell, he was just trying to keep everything from falling apart including himself. He had a lot to carry on his shoulders and people rushing up to him demanding things didn't help either.

                          Sighing he expelled another stream of smoke to calm himself at least he didn't have work today and he was sure if anyone needed him they would call. The cafe he had on his mind wasn't far, a piece of good luck in this uncomfortable cold that turned his pale, delicate flesh red with irritation. He didn't bother to try covering more, and didn't care as he passed by a pair arguing on the street about something, a man who was stooping over to pick up some change for the meter he was occupying, a single mother herding her three children along the streets. All part of a daily day here in this... bustling district. He even passed that old shop with all of its outlandish antiquities. Never been in there, never wanted to be. Stuffing his hands into his pockets the lanky male moved across the street and looked around before he sprinted and watched as a male and female walked in before he did. Placing his hand on the back end of the door his eyes turned away, “Excuse me…” He said in his heavy polish accent as he lingered behind them as they now started to... court, flirt? Or do whatever lovers did, whatever it was they smelled of cheap perfume and sex. Grimacing he touched the back of his neck, eyeing a dark blotch on the woman's neck. Was that a... hickey on her neck? Great Scott! He didn't want to see that. He pushed slightly as he weaved through the door and got in front of them, which they didn't seem to notice him or the hulking beast following him. Casually he took at glance at himself in the window and did a once over at his outfit before slinking inside the place with his mind on nothing but food.

                          After plastering a polite smile on his face he ordered his coffee, a breakfast burrito and sausage biscuit. Anticipation in his voice, he held out the money for the girl to take. An exchange of money with a drink and plate... He barely looked at her, his gaze focused on the.. godly, heavenly food. "Have I told you lately that we're meant to be together?" He gave the girl a flirtatious smile, even though that comment was meant for the food as he exited ignoring the complaints about Dobry being inside the restaurant. Striding over to one of the many tables outside, he settled himself in comfortably as he tossed the sauasge biscuit to his companion. Scarfing down the food ravenously, his teeth biting hungrily into the food and drinking copious amounts of the mocha bubble-tea he had purchased. Stretching his arms above his head, he leaned back in the chair and gazed around fishing out the rather elegant silver trick lighter from his pocket as he began to play with it. Biting his lip he decided to just play with the cigarette judging by the dirty looks he was getting from a young couple as they eyed his companian who had just finished up his own meal. Smirking Marek stood and balled up his trash, disposing of it like the model citizen he was as he moved to walk away then stopped and turned to gaze at the couple with dark eyes. "It isn't polite to stare." He murmured softly, fixing them with a pointed gaze as he motioned for the dog to follow before turning away and slipping amongst the crowd who seemed to part to make way for the strange male with the mauve colored hair and his vicious friend.



                          We'll part the sea.
                          Choose your side.
                          Don't come with me.
                          You decide.
                          We'll Part the sea.
                          Don't come with me.




                          sail away from the shoreline
                          sail away from the shore
                          I'm in front of Heavens door
                          .take ▮ ⊰o n e. ▪ ▫ last breath !


                          L O C A T I O N ; text x x W I T H ; text x x M O O D ; text x x T H O U G H T S ; text x x O O C ; text


                          xxx

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