【₳ ₮ я α ɢ ι c ₮ є s т】

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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H o w can she b e g i n to ::try:: ?
>>MISUNDERSTOOD<< so m a n y times so many t i m e s
R.i.s.e above, rise [ again ]
T h o u g h t you <went> away but I m i s u n d e r s t oo d
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[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

H A T E is a four letter, W O R D, L O V E is a four letter L I E...

☽☾Evadne Fai Justise☽☾

"Let us love Ϣ ɩ ɳ ʈ ѯ ɽ, for it is the spring of genius."_____
"What brings you to me this lovely day?"_____

ⅰ.xxxIntroducing to「L o n d o n」society ;;




❝ A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. ❞


Evadne [[eh-vahd-neh]]

【→】 ✥xxxxx Does this count as a nickname? No, I suppose it doesn't, but even so, this is what I prefer to be called. I'm not one for nicknames, though sometimes I'll let one or two pass.

Eva [[eh-vah]]

【→】✥xxxxx My first passable nickname. A shorthand for my first name, Eva was first used my my father, and since I love him so, I let him use it. Pretty soon, the rest of my family was using it as well.

Fai [[fay]]

【→】✥xxxxx My second passable nickname, I suppose it's pretty, in a way. It was first given to me by a friend of my father -- one of his gambling acquaintances, and it just stuck. It's not really a nickname, as it is just calling me by my middle name, but since it is not my first name, I guess it counts.

Ne-Ne [[neh-neh]]

【→】 ✥xxxxx One nickname I absolutely cannot stand. This was given to me by my littlest cousin who cannot pronounce my name. Sadly, she decided to shorten it to a form of the last syllable of my first name. My other cousins started calling me by it to torment me, I will tell you now -- I will not respond to it.




❝ The stars aligned for me at this moment. ❞



【→】 ✬ On a starry, breezy, moon-lit night
A little Libra was borne onto this world.
A sweet child with potential so bright,
And with this, a tragic story unfurled.

【ѺɔϮɵв϶я 15 ♎ 】





❝ And I have experienced several seasons pass me by. ❞



【→】 ✬ As these years pass by so fast,
I cannot see what my future is to be.
All I know is that my fate has been caste,
And the time comes, I shall be free.

【Ѯɩɠɧʈѯѯɳ 】




❝ Born as one, I understand my own responsibilities. ❞



【→】 ✬ Surely a lady such as I
And a person such as thee
Can tell and not deny
That I am a lady, you can plainly see.

【ғэϻɑʟэ ♀ 】




❝ But I also know that the heart cannot be taught on whom to love. ❞



【→】 ✬ The same fairytale story
The Princess meets the Prince
And they fall in love, with lovely glory
Oh, how I have wished for a story like that since.

【Ηэтэяosэӿuɑʟ ♂ 】




ⅱ.xxxA great「p l e a s u r e」indeed to make your acquaintance ;;




❝ Whether proper or improper, it's how I am. ❞


├ Ƀɩϯϯэяʂωεεʈ ┤
[
〖❤〗xxxxx Sweet like the fresh-strained honey from a honeybee's comb, yet bitter like the picked ginger root from your garden. Evadne is both the sugar in your tea and the bitter medicine when you get sick -- it all depends on the situation. Though she tends to lean more towards the bitter side, distrustful of letting anyone see her sweet smile. She can be the sweetest girl in the world -- if you can gain her trust first. One thing that can always make her smile though, are roses. Any color, any number, in a bouquet or one by itself -- the smell and the mere sight of it makes her grin like a small child. The quickest way to her shielded heart is to give her a rose.

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├ Ϩнұ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx The very epitome of timidity, Evadne is not very outgoing at all. A stutter plagues her speech every time she speaks to a stranger and a blush is her constant makeup when ever she is around those of the opposite sex. Her bashfulness seems to either put-off people or cause them to have pity for her -- though the very fact that a Lady needs to be quiet and offer only small condolences for things, her coyness seems to come in handy. For this reason, she is not really ashamed of her shyness, but rather lets it out -- as much as she possibly can without causing herself to faint of course.

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├ Шɩϯнɗяɑшɴ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx This comes hand-in-hand with Evadne's shyness, her introverted nature forms a cocoon around her and protects her from people that she dislikes -- her solitary attitude put off people even more than her shyness, and she appears to be cold -- like the Winter she represents. The cocoon threatens to break though, when her family pressures her, one of her rather embarrassing weaknesses -- at least in her view. Her strange disposition gives her an aura of mystery because it seems that no one really knows who she really is and what she is truly feeling.The thing she wants most to do is to make friends and be happy, though her family seems to prevent that, so inside herself is the only place she can run to, the only safe place away from everything that could ever make her cry.

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├ Шɑяұ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx Evadne is quite possibly the most cautious person you will ever meet, guarded and careful, her demeanor is that of a beaten dog. A saddened stature, shoulders slightly slumped, despite the Ladies' rule of perfect posture, accompanied by faded, dark eyes -- eyes that had seen the true nature of humanity, the raw greed. Whenever someone raises their voice at her, or someone around her, she visibly flinches -- a bad habit that causes people to often pick on her rather cruelly. Her wariness gives her a permanent hurt look on her face, hidden beneath the cold, faded look she tries to wear -- though anyone with eyes could see through it if they looked hard enough.

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├ Ϩɵғт-ʂρɵκэɴ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx Questions asked, Evadne always responds softly. So delicately, people have to strain to hear her sometimes. Never raising her voice above a loud whisper, she despises anything, or when anyone speaks, louder than a leveled voice. Another one of her weaknesses she absolutely despises and feels ashamed every time she flinches, cowers or jumps whenever something loud happens.

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├ Ϩтɵɩɔ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx Almost no smiles cross Evadne's pale face, her seriousness is something that some people feel is either strange or fear. If she does smile, it is a painted on smile, one that matches the distance and the frozen quality of a smile on a porcelain doll, giving her an creepy, doll-like quality -- one that you would expect to be cute, but paired with her haunted looks and sad aura, it is rather disturbing. It is very difficult to coax a real smile out of this serious girl.

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├ Эϻɵтɩɵɴɑʟ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx Despite Evadne's cold facade, she is actually really emotional -- she just saves her feelings for later. The emotional side of her is the hidden part in her thick cocoon, ready for unleashing whenever she is alone. There are very few times when she actually shows her feelings in public, and when she does, she tends to be very quiet about it. She doesn't like making a commotion about her feelings, although she wishes someone would just see her and her true feelings for once.

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├ Ͻұиɩɔɑʟ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx Childhood pressed on her, Evadne's rose tinted glasses long ago broke and cold, cruel reality was their replacement. No matter what you tell her, no matter what you show her, no matter if you perhaps just won the lottery -- she will always see what could go wrong. Her eyes always find the darkest side of things and she makes it her job to point it out -- while some believe that her input is rather annoying and bothersome, it saved quite a few people from bad choice in the past. Bad invests here, a bad buy there -- saving people a whole lot of money. Despite the fact that Ladies are suppose to be quiet about their opinions, it seems that her family doesn't seem to mind her speaking up about saving them money by preventing horrid choices.

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├ Ϩκэρтɩɔɑʟ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx Evadne is the type of girl who wouldn't believe that the sky is blue and unclouded just by telling her, she always has go to the nearest window, pull back the drapes and feel her doubts calmed by the sun shining down on her face in the middle of a vast blue sea. Her skepticism found roots when her family so dauntingly tried to keep the money she would soon have -- others' greed had turned her into the beaten, cold, negative doll that she is today. Her skepticism has taken root inside of her so deeply that nothing could possibly unhinge it from her personality -- she doubts herself so much, that she even doubts that she could ever let anyone close to her.

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├ Ϩɑяɔɑʂтɩɔ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx A sharp tongue is this girl's best friend -- considering that she has no real ones. Her scathing comments sometimes can't be escaped and her wrath is rather frightening if you press her hard enough. More than once, her "family" had to remove her from the presence of guests when her fierce temper and tongue came into the picture. Devoting her speech to pointing out the obvious rudely is just another one of her shields, simply another barrier she hopes someone will take down to get to the real her. Meanwhile, you would fare well to watch out for any openings in your story where Evadne could sneak in and deliver a sharp blow to your ego.

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├ Яɵϻɑитɩɔ ┤

〖❤〗xxxxx While she would rather soon die than admit it -- not that anyone has ever asked -- she is a hopeless romantic at heart. Her favorite books in her collection are those telling of romance -- either impossible or entirely impossible. She's a hidden romantic, holing herself up when she can in her private library -- which isn't so private because anyone could come in and interrupt her, earning a scalding comment -- and picking out book after book dealing with love, imagining what her Prince would look like, would he look like a Prince? or perhaps an unexpected ragamuffin from the streets? Though she is entirely in love with the notion of love, she is entirely too cynical and skeptical to ever believe it will happen to her.







❝ And all I could ask of you is to accept me for what I am. ❞


| | Ϩρɑяκʟɩиɢ ɩиғɑиɔұ | |
☆☆☆☆ xxxxx Such a lovely title for such a sad story, I must admit. Perhaps it holds the same deceiving title for promises and deception like Romeo & Juliet. I will not lie, I will not say that my life is a fairytale -- I may be a Lady, but there is nothing pleasant about my life. On the night I was born, my family tells me that it was a pleasant October night, a subtle breeze cooling down the lingering, but fading flames of summer. After 29 hours of horrible labor, my mother had gone through all she could handle, as I came out, my mother's soul came as well. She had died in childbirth, quick as snakes, my mother's family picked me up -- suggesting that my father, being a commoner, had no right to keep me. Lucky for me, my father fought and my family gave him the pleasure to stay with them -- what a privilege, staying with in a house full of venomous rattlesnakes. As it seems to have turned out, they ended up taking my father over to their side, made him see things their way -- at least, halfway. He agreed to let them make me into the most refined young Lady out there, refined enough to carry on my mother's reputation. I began to take classes taught by a private tutor, a woman of high class came to our house everyday to instruct me. By the age of five, I was taking eight classes a day, Literature, Arithmetic, Etiquette, Piano, Violin, Harp, Foreign Languages, and Painting. They told me it was essential for my education to start early, so I could master my skills. Needless to say, it was quite overwhelming, being swamped by so many classes every single day at such a young age. One day, on my seventh birthday, I believe, I told my aunt that I was tired of taking so many classes and I thought I should have the day off since it was my birthday. It was a horrid mistake, I realized as a sharp crack echoed through the white walls of the house and a sharp sting suddenly overcame the right side of my face -- my aunt's pale, stern face had been beet red with fury as she shouted at me that I did not deserve a day off because I had spoken out of turn -- and under no circumstances should Ladies speak out of turn. I believe that was the first day when my cocoon start to form, when I started to withdraw inside of myself. My father had not been there to defend me, he had been at his casino and he never knew about the incident because I was a Lady, and Ladies did not speak without being spoken to-- not even to their own fathers.I did not get the day off, nor did I get a day off on any of my upcoming birthdays. My life had become one tedious chore after another, not to mention the social gatherings. I was not sure why at the time, but I was set to attend all the balls my Aunt and Uncle had been invited to, no matter what. My first ball attendance had been at seven as well. I remember the dress quite well. A pale peach color, ankle-length of course. It had white trimming, white sleeves and a white ruffle along the neck and sleeves. Since I had no cleavage, the dress reached up to the height of my neck, preventing me from lowering my head too far. Pearls and a headband were worn as well, the headband had white lace around the edges and a single white rose embedded in the fabric. My fondness for roses began there. My Aunt was relentless and tried to introduce everyone to her little "Doll," I did not understand what this title meant but I went along with it, giving the occasional small, empty smile here and maybe a nod of the head there and always staying quiet. My childhood passed quickly, even to me, perhaps it was the lack of excitement that made it seem quick -- but nonetheless painful.

| | Đɑяκэиэɗ ұσυтʜ | |
★★★★ xxxxx The title fits better than the last one I suppose, it was during this time that my life went spiraling downwards. It was during this time that we had received the will from the mortician -- after eleven years, it had finally arrived. My Aunt was ecstatic, and called all of my classes off -- by this time, I had added Embroidery, Singing, Dancing, Penmanship, Cooking, and even the fine art of Speech -- and called me to the family room, in which my Aunt, my Uncle, my Father, even my cousins were sitting on the fine chairs placed conveniently so they were all facing my Aunt. In her hand, she held an envelope,golden lettering on the front that described the address all the way from America. My aunt had a greedy look in her eyes that had frightened me so as she waved me to the seat in the very front of all the rest. I approached cautiously and perched on the edge of the seat, holding my posture as perfectly as I could. Opening the envelope, she read the letter and a strange look came onto her face -- a mixture of incredulity, horror and happiness -- a strange mixture indeed. My whole family leaned forward in expectancy, I was the only one who remained as she was -- reserved, distant and collected. I saw my Aunt's eyes scan the letter thrice over, as if checking for any possible error. Finally, she lowered the paper, and by then, even I had to admit I was getting impatient. As soon as I was about to ask what the letter said, her black eyes slid over to me and I visibly recoiled into the chair. She told me that my mother had left everything to me -- billions of dollars and pounds as well. I was not sure what this meant, but I could tell that nothing good could come of it, I was sure as I stared at my Aunt coldly, a carefully placed detachment written on my features. My Aunt continued, obviously confused at my reaction -- or lack thereof -- and told me that there was also a mansion left for me in America, this of course, gave the deed to my legal guardian -- my father. I had no idea what had been going on through my dearest father's mind that day, but he invited the whole family to come with us -- even my teachers, because according to him, the mansion was big enough for all. I personally thought my father had lost his mind, I started to protest, but instead gave him logical excuses. His casino, his friends, his own family. He said none of it mattered, all that mattered was me and my future. I nearly burst out crying in desolation when he said that because it meant that he was turning me over to the snakes again. We soon packed everything up and left for America, bring all staff and teachers with us. When we arrived, I nearly fainted at the sight of our mansion -- it was vast, covering acre and acre and acre. It's massive size threatened to block out the sun. A few months after we moved in, my family had given my father money to start a new casino -- he had promised to pay them back as he got earnings, but the snakes refused, saying that their only compensation would be to watch me grow and to take care of me. My father seemed content with that, he had no idea what was going on when he wasn't there of course. My aunt soon accompanied me to my classes, watching me and studying me in every course. I was detached to every one except Art, Singing and Literature. Apparently, my behavior was not good enough. As my Aunt saw that I played a note wrong on the piano, hit a flat note on my vocal or even misquoted a book, I earned a slap and rather harsh words. It injured me both physically and emotionally. As time progressed, I grew more and more withdrawn, suspicious, colder, cynical, scathing and my shyness grew more pronounced. It was during this time that my Aunt brought out qualities inside myself that I didn't know I had. She still took me out to her soirees, as I found out they were called. As she called me her "Doll," I finally understood what she meant. My hair had been a white-gray and my eyes had always been a deep red -- I must have looked like a doll to everyone. It became my official title, "the Justise Doll." I never really liked it that much, I wasn't one for fancy titles and doting -- but what my Aunt wanted, she usually got.

Ӻяɩɠɩɗ Ϻɑτυяɩτɣ | |
☆☆☆☆ xxxxx



ⅲ.xxxWould you「c a r e」for a walk? ;;




❝ I'm not really that hard to please. ❞


♬ xxxxx 〖Ϻυʂɩɔ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖ζɩτэяɑτυяэ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Ӻяυɩτʂ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖ϩωээτʂ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖ϩɩɳɠɩɳɠ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Đяɑωɩɳɠ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Яσʂэʂ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Gσωɳʂ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Ϻэɳ〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Ϣɩɳτэя〗

♬ xxxxx 〖Яσɱɑɳɔэ〗




❝ But there are things I just can't stand. ❞


☢ xxxxx 〖Ϻэɑτ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖ϩɔɑɳɗэʅʂ / Gσʂʂɩρ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖Ϻσɳэɣ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖ϩσɩяээʂ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖Яυɗэɳэʂʂ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖Λяяσɠɑɳɔэ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖Ҭɑʂτэʅэʂʂ Ӻσσɗ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖ϩυɩτσяʂ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖Ѻяɗэяʂ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖Ҭɧэ Ӈэɑτ〗

☢ xxxxx 〖ζσυɗ Ƞσɩʂэʂ〗




❝ And there are things I rather not associate myself with. ❞


☁ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫〔Ίɳʂэɔτʂ 〕

☀ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹｛Ӄɩɳɗɳэʂʂ ｝

☁ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫〔ξɱɓɑяяɑʂʂɱэɳτ 〕

☀ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹｛Λɳɩɱɑʅʂ ｝

☁ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫〔Ͻяυэʅτɣ 〕

☀ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹｛Ӻɑτɦэя ｝

☁ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫〔Λυɳτ 〕

☀ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹｛ζσѵэ ｝

☁ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫〔ζσѵэ 〕

☀ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹｛Ҏʅυʂɦɩэʂ ｝

☁ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫ ▪ ▫〔βэɩɳɠ Ʉʂэɗ 〕




❝ Oh, and by the way~ ❞


Random facts that you'd like to point out




❝ Before I go, don't you think they're beautiful? ❞


Posting colors used

Closing greetings_____
~ Username_____

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

┌--------------------------------------------------------------------------┐
So what if you can s e e the d a r k e s t side of me?
No one will ever c h a n g e this >>ANIMAL<< I have [ become ]
Help me !BELIEVE! it's not the r e a l me
S>o>m>e>b>o>d>y h e l p me t.a.m.e this {{ ANIMAL }} !
└--------------------------------------------------------------------------┘

So maybe, it wasn't exactly the reaction Altair was expecting. Of course, he also had not expected her to jump into his arms willingly and completely enchanted once he had spoken to her because he was a werewolf, a Lycan -- but at least more than a simple "Thanks." and a nod. Grimacing, he found himself staring at her as she walked off in the direction of the bar, though she hardly seemed to have noticed as he gaze was captivated by something in the crowd. As Altair thought this, the scent of a bloodsucker hit him hard enough to make him reel back a bit, his glacial blue eyes unfocused momentarily until he saw where the leech was -- in the middle of the dance floor grasping a young girl by the shoulder. The girl's own scent hitting him as well -- soft, feminine and innocent, not to mention human. Yet it was nothing like the sexy musk of the girl he had saved from the demon, something lurked beneath the soft fragrance -- something specifically dangerous. After a few moments, Altair managed to identify it and he relished the idea with a broad smirk-- Vampire Hunter. The leech had managed to catch himself a Hunter, and it seemed like he had no idea about either. He vaguely thought about staking the Sucker and being done with him, his hand twitched and itched to reach for the dagger/stake in it's hilt in his pocket. He thought better of it thought, letting things play out would be much more entertaining -- especially if it involved that Hunter who looked so soft and naive, an angel in a club full of devils. His grin returned when Altair realized that his own angel was staring at the Hunter -- they knew each other, that much was obvious. He sighed and ran a hand through his long hair as the song suddenly changed, a sharp skidding sound erupted and hurt Altair's ears -- as if someone had pulled the record off quickly before the song was over. Scowling, he went over to Auz, she was sipping a drink casually, yet he could smell something tense about her that whether he liked it or not, made him slightly worried himself. Strangely, her drink didn't smell like anything -- no pungent smell of liqueur in the glass that usually marked the drinks, which immediately made Altair suspicious. He focused his eyes on the nearby guys and the bartender who were intently staring at the girl at the bar, watching her as if hypnotized. He felt an impending sense of danger and felt his canines elongate and he let loose a quiet growl that would for sure reach their ears, since one of them was a demon and the others were imps -- all with a good sense of hearing. They looked at him with a shocked look on their faces and turned away quickly. Before the bartender could turn away from them though, Altair motioned to him.

As the demon came over, Altair noticed all the flaws -- what was wrong with that facade the demon had made in order to fit in with the human society. With a long, blond ponytail that reached the middle of his back, a scraggly beard and pierced eyebrows, he looked like an ex-biker with still belonged off in a gang somewhere -- not in an all-ages club serving drinks to whomever wanted one. Sighing, he leaned towards the bartender and in a low growl said to him, "How about getting this young woman a Sex on the Beach?" he gently reached over and took the drink from Auz's hand and shoved it on the bartender -- sloshing the liquid on the guy a bit. Nodding, the bartender turned away and began to mix the drink. Smirking, he turned to Auz and nodded to her in greeting. "What's with the intense look at that girl? Is she your friend?" Before she could answer his question, the bartender came hurrying back, drink in hand and this one actually smelled like fruit and alcohol. Scowling at the guy, he took the drink and handed it to Auz, careful not to spill any. "Your welcome," he said pointedly, before she could say anything.

As the minutes passed, his own eyes trained on the girl and the vampire -- they had not moved from their spots. He zeroed on a strange thumping sound that was coming from their direction and found out it was coming from the girl -- something was throbbing on her. Altair shook his head and called over the bartender once more, who hurried back to his side. "I'd like a Manhattan," he added no please, his manners were not the main concern around the demon. Nodding, the bartender began to mix a drink again with quick hands. Turning back to Auz, he realized that she had not answered him yet and decided to throw out another question. "So what's your name?" his voice was bold and slightly condescending. At that moment, the bartender brought him his drink and Altair glared at him, making the demon run off quickly. Sipping his drink, he looked at Auz expectantly.





σн.σн.cєє||Wahh! Mine was short. I'm suffering from writer's block for Altair it seems. D':

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

A R U N A ♡ D Y A N ♡ K A T I A

But to other's, I'm Ms. S A R C A S M

_______________________T н e B α s ι c s

» I was born with the name . . . A r u n a D y a n K a t i a, love.
» But I'd much rather be called . . . A r i, R u n e, But of course, A r u n a is preferred.
» I've walked this earth for . . . F o r t y F i v e long, ******** years.
» But I don't look a day over . . . N i n e t e e n. Must be magic, no?
» I owe this new life to . . . M s. I c e Q u e e n is the culprit here.
» Now, I'm a . . . H a l f V a m p i r e, enjoying the sun while you losers can't.

_______________________I n T н e M ι я я o я

» I'm so scary at . . . 5 f e e t 4 i n c h e s, I'm a giant huh?
» The scale tells me . . . A h u n d r e d & t w e n t y p o u n d s, I should sumo wrestle right?
» Cut and styled . . . I n k y B l a c k
» The windows to my soul are . . . G l a c i a l B l u e
» Metal and ink . . . S n a k e b i t e s & a small N o s e P i e r c i n g, no ink.

_______________________A L ι τ τ ℓ e M o я e

» Don't tell any one! . . . Well, I suppose N o O n e. Yet, at least.
» It gives me nightmares . . .
I s o l o p h o b i a :: The fear of being A l o n e.
A p i p h o b i a :: The fear of B e e s.
B o g y p h o b i a :: The fear of B o g e y m e n. I know it's childish, but please bear with me.
T a p h e p h o b i a :: The fear of being B u r i e d A l i v e. Oh the irony, how I love it.
N e c r o p h o b i a :: The fear of C o r p s e s. Hey look! More irony!
P e d i o p h o b i a :: The fear of P o r c e l a i n D o l l s Those things are really creepy.
H y l o p h o b i a :: The fear of F o r e s t s.
X e n o p h o b i a :: The fear of S t r a n g e r s.
A t h a z a g o r a p h o b i a :: The fear of being F o r g o t t e n.
C l a u s t r o p h o b i a :: The fear of D a r k, E n c l o s e d S p a c e s

» It's constantly playing in my head . . . S o L o n g, G o o d b y e -- 10 Years
G o i n g U n d e r -- Evanescence
E v e r y b o d y ' s F o o l -- Evanescence
M i s s i n g-- Evanescence
» "All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and you always beside me, to hold me and to hide me."

_______________________M y L ι f e S o F α я

Must I recall such horrid, sordid things?

Well, I suppose if I have to. I was born into a household of three children, one father, one mother, an aunt, an uncle and six cousins in the year 1964 in the middle of the good, old United States. I was a rather spoiled child, being of a large family usually meant poverty, but not in our case -- we were actually mildly wealthy. Back then of course, wealthy meant have 20 thousand grand and living in a three or four story house, nothing like today. As I was saying, I was spoiled -- though not enough to be quite rotten yet. We were a happy family, until I was about five, that's when daddy dearest was recruited into the Vietnam War to fight along side his comrades in a deadly battle for right or wrong. I cried. I screamed. I threw a wretched tantrum that rattled the windows of our house. No one listened to me. No one cared. My father left, leaving my mother to fend for herself and four children. My uncle and aunt were of little help -- condescending asswipes. They believed a person made her own living, despite the fact that they lived under our roof. My mother kicked their sorry asses out the same day, and she never regretted it either. My brothers and sisters were ignorant of the situation, though older than me, it seemed that I paid more attention than them.

Four years passed without any sign of my father, no letters, no cards, no sign that he was alive. Until one day ( I was nine at the time), just days before the war was over in 1975, there came a letter. An enveloped sealed with the Army's mark, I remember the day clearly. My mother had tears in her eyes as she slit it open, revealing a yellow letter. That was when our lives careened to a smashing halt. My father was killed in action -- died in the line of duty. At first I thought it was an honorable way to go, brave, courageous. I was just lying to myself, I missed him. My father had been the stone pillar holding our family up, and without him -- we fell apart like a house of cards. I could not grasp the idea that he was really gone, but the condition of our family soon made it very hard to think otherwise.

My mother fell into the clutches of substances -- drugs, alcohol and the like. She told me once that it made her feel free, free from the chains of death and responsibility that held her to reality -- I had been only eleven. The responsibility fell upon my oldest brother to support us -- he had just turned eighteen. Inheriting my father's position at his job, Dorian proceeded to maintain our living. My mother had gone progressively worse though, she would spend days and days on end in her bed, not eating, not drinking anything beer. And when she did climb out of bed, it looked like she had spent days in a coffin -- her skin was pasty and her breath was ragged, we all knew very well that she was dying. At one point, she began to throw up excessively, she moaned about a sharp pain in her side in between fevered dreams -- her liver was failing.

She did not last much longer, a few months later, she died. We held a small funeral for her ( which my aunt and uncle did not attend) and her memory was set to rest. My siblings and I's life went on a bit emptier, yet somehow with an air of relief. That is, until a serial killer by the name of Richard Trenton Chase found our family in 1978. I was fourteen at the time, living life as a beatnik (the equivalent of a goth now, you might compare), boys were noticing me and girls wanted to be me. I was brash, cold, cynical, and sarcastic -- all they wanted to be. I was not innocent, I saw everything in a harsh light and did not hesitate to tell things the way I perceived them. Now, Richard was a sicko, a wacko, a killer. I was not even aware of his existence until I came home one day from a walk in the park and saw a bloody mess in our house. I was terrified. I looked in the rooms to find my older sisters hanging from the walls by barbed wire and Dorian hanging from the ceiling fan in his room by fishing wire -- even worse. They were all previously cut up though, it was obvious the killer strung them up after they died from being sliced up.

I heaved, I cried, and I screamed -- it was my father's leave all over again. Death seemed to have coated me and my destiny quite well, and I was convinced I was next. As I turned and ran towards the door of our house he appeared. I have to admit, he didn't look insane. He seemed perfectly normal -- were it not for the bloody carving knife he held in one hand. I couldn't help it, I screamed bloody murder, (Hah, irony) and ran towards the back door. At that moment, I felt something slide through my back and exit through my stomach. A stream of cold pain erupted from inside me and spread through my body. As I fell forward, I slid off the knife with a slick, sickening slurp sound that still haunts me to this day. I fell face forward, but he rolled me onto my back, grinning at my astonished pain. By this time, things were going black and I could only see the carving knife in his hand. At that moment, I started to remember all the Thanksgivings my mother had carved the turkey with that same knife. Now it was my family who was carved I had thought deliriously, The turkeys must be laughing right now... I could no longer see anything at that point -- I could just hear the soft trickling of my blood exiting my body.

I'm not sure what happened next, all I know is that somehow, Selah saved me from death. Of course, she has explained it to me before. Fingertips, blood, pain, blah blah blah. But still, maybe it is not the how I am wondering about, it's the why. There were many others who needed to be saved out in the world, so... why me? Why did she save me? I chalk it up to pity, though most of the time, I wish she would have let me die. I have nothing to live for in this world -- all my family died. But I can't bear to kill myself, because somehow, I know that I would cause pain to Selah -- the general famed for her coldness to others. I know. Why? because I am her Assistant of course. She saved me from a life of servitude to my family, only to bring me into another life of servitude. Oh irony, I never tire of your cruel sense of humor.

T h e V o i c e I n M y H e a d Princess Vampireska

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

╔════════════════════════════════════╗
Keep :: d o d g i n g :: lights.
Like a T H I E F in the [[ night ]]
The s.u.n will >>RISE<< and (expose) all the | L I E S |.
So why deny that you and I lead d i ff e r e n t lives.
╚════════════════════════════════════╝

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

╔════════════════════════════════════╗
Keep :: d o d g i n g :: lights.
Like a T H I E F in the [[ night ]]
The s.u.n will >>RISE<< and (expose) all the | L I E S |.
So why deny that you and I lead d i ff e r e n t lives.
╚════════════════════════════════════╝

The rough, craggy rock walls stared back at Aruna as she stared blankly at them -- they seemed to taunt her, her desire of seeing the outside world, to smell fresh air. They shouted at her, laughed at her. Aruna's mouth curled up in a ferocious snarl, banging her fists against the surface -- she felt the rock cut into the soft flesh and the warm blood seep out. Grimacing, she looked at the edges of her hands, staring as the wounds slowly closed over and became scabs. A Full Vampire and his Assistant scurried past her, giving her odd looks. Smirking, she couldn't help but call back to them as they walked. "What? You've never seen a Half Vampire driven crazy from being trapped here? No, of course not! 'Cause you were never a half vampire, huh?" There was no response, but she could still hear them walking away. "Guess not," she mumbled. Leaning back against the wall, she realized that maybe in the middle of a Hall wasn't the best place to have a breakdown. Running a hand through her black hair, she sighed and thumped the rock one more time with an open fist -- though not hard enough to cut this time. Scowling, she recalled the journey to the stupid Mountain, how her mentor Selah had to practically drag her through the thick forests that surrounded the Mountain. A chuckle erupted from between Aruna's lips as she remembered how much Selah had cursed her Assistant's Hylophobia -- her intense fear of forests. It had also been cold -- terrifyingly so. Aruna had nearly died on the way -- and more than once, was tempted to throw herself off the nearby cliffs in order to escape the horrid journey. Sighing, Aruna became aware that she would be rather stuck in the Mountain than to endure the rough passage once more. Though the new challenge made Aruna's insides twist and knot -- a war. A war between the Vampaneze and the Vampires. The wars were not great in scale, but the thought of people dying still made her go run and cry -- like when she was little.

Step by step, she began to make her way through the Halls. There were many -- Aruna got lost so often that one of the older Vampires had to lead her back to the Great Dining Hall. Not that she wasn't grateful, without their help, she would still be stuck among the hundreds of Halls -- but it made her feel little again, and she hated to feel anything that reminded her of that time in her life. Vampires passed her left and right as she shuffled along, her big, blue eyes curiously blank as she tried to keep the memories from coming back -- her brother and the fishing wire, her sisters and the barbed wire, him. "Stop it!" she screamed, the echoing, shrill sound made all of the surrounding Vampires look at her in alarm as she clutched her head in pain. They all stood there for a moment, staring at her as her ragged breathing slowed and even out -- no one came forward to help her and they all looked at her like she was rabid. After a few minutes, Aruna finally began moving again and it was like a spell had been broken -- all of the others proceeded as well, though they seemed to part for her as she passed. They did not want to touch her. Aruna shook it off, her black hair bobbing in the poofy ponytail she was currently sporting -- she didn't care. If her mentor had taught her anything was that you should not care what others thought of you -- only what you thought of yourself. One of Aruna's own made-up life lessons was not to let anyone look inside her -- at the real her, because all they would find was a shriveled, shattered being that begged for death. And among the prideful Vampires, she had to exhume only confidence and bravery -- even though she would rather curl up in a corner and cry.

Aruna made her way to the Bars, where the Vampires and the Half Vampires practiced their sparring. She looked over at the two Half Vampires on the high platform and grimaced -- one was near a bloody pulp, yet he did not give up -- he couldn't. His already developing Vampire pride was rearing it's ugly head and would rather him die than to receive the shame of losing. Aruna herself had been on the Bar a couple of times, but Selah had taught her well enough that she always won. Aruna always dismounted with a deep sense of guilt though, as she gazed at the poor soul who was taken away for rest when she had nearly killed him. Sighing, she leaned against a nearby wall and watched the Half Vampires spar a while longer, that is, until more Vampire filed in and a growing sense of Claustrophobia made her chest and lungs clench and panic rise in her throat. Edging her way through the crowd, she managed to reach the other opening to the hall and exited just as a loud groan erupted through the crowd -- the bloody mess of a Half Vampire lost and was probably lying unconscious on the floor. Aruna grimaced and breathed in freely, feeling her panic dissipate as she made her way to the Great Dining Hall.

She entered, eying every Vampire to make sure none of them were her mentor. One of the Half Vampire's seemed to recognize her -- though she had no idea of his identity. Or maybe there was something on her face, because his eyes never left her face as she made her way through the mess of tables. Aruna had no idea where Selah was, but she suddenly felt the need to find her. She felt the Half Vampire's eyes on her as she dodged the tables and nearly knocked over a tray full of cups that gave off the distinct smell of rust and bitterness -- blood. Aruna scowled at it before continuing, she always made it a point to push herself to the limit before having to drink human blood. Not far enough to put her in danger of dying, but a habit that she was sure annoyed Selah. She was still running among the tables when someone stuck their foot out and sent her careening into a Vampire sitting down with long blond hair. She had merely bumped against the Vampire when a look of astonishment crossed Aruna's face -- it was Selah. "Oh! Selah! I'm sorry! Some idiot stuck their foot out," she sneered and looked at the surrounding Vampires with accusing eyes. They all looked away innocently. Sitting down across Selah, Aruna cast a vague look at the Full Vampire sitting a few feet away from her, her blue eyes colder than usual as she settled herself into the seat and glanced at Selah for some sign of anger.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

┌--------------------------------------------------------------------------┐
H o l d on to me ( love )
You k.n.o.w I [[ CAN`T ]] stay long
All I :: w a n t e d :: to say was I !LOVE! you and I'm not >>a f r a i d<<
Can you {{ HEAR }} me?
Can you F E E L me in your <arms>?
└--------------------------------------------------------------------------┘

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

┌--------------------------------------------------------------------------┐
H o l d on to me ( love )
You k.n.o.w I [[ CAN`T ]] stay long
All I :: w a n t e d :: to say was I !LOVE! you and I'm not >>a f r a i d<<
Can you {{ HEAR }} me?
Can you F E E L me in your <arms>?
└--------------------------------------------------------------------------┘

Her vision was clouded by the sheets that fell from the bleak sky. Aimi wiped the rain from her face absentmindedly, her pale pink eyes searching for her master. She didn't expect to see him of course, any more than she expected the rain to suddenly transform into cats and dogs. Humans had quaint expressions like that -- "It's raining cats and dogs" or "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse" and possibly even "Hold that thought." Aimi grimaced, how could you possibly hold a thought in your hand when clearly, it is in your brain? Shaking her head, she stumbled along the street, no one else seemed to be out and for once, Aimi desired to see someone who could help her find her master. He might want her back, she lowered her eyes down to her dirty shoes and took in her scuffed knees and scratched legs -- there was no doubt that her face was bloody, she could feel the stinging pain of fresh wounds. Aimi still held an air of disbelief that her master could have thrown her from the car -- not a big car, but they were going up a hill, which meant she rolled down and the rocks broke her skin and resulted in her wounds. He had talked to her about getting a new persocom, she even got to meet her. She was a helpful thing, rushing about the house -- though a bit promiscuous, if Aimi said so herself. A maid outfit that barely covered her panties and no sleeves, the neck line was also dangerously low on her chest. Sighing, she cleared her eyes again and her hand came away tinted pink, by which the rain soon washed away the color. Before her master had thrown her out so cruelly, she had felt him flip a switch on her back -- in a place she couldn't reach, and then, she could no longer speak. Not a single squeak issued from her open mouth, nor could she scream as she rolled. She was effectively silent. Her master was a smart, Aimi had to admit -- he knew how to get rid of things without being discovered. Raising her hand to her lips, she opened and closed them, trying to make a sound, a whimper, something. But all she got, was nothing.

Aimi felt like crying, crawling into a ditch and just let loose all the pent up emotions she couldn't let out. Instead, she continued her trek but a couple of tears seeped out and slid down her pale cheeks, melting and becoming one with the raindrops. She looked around her, eyes searched for any sign of life or someone to help her. Of course, no one was out, they were all inside -- in their warm homes. Aimi felt the sorrow root in deeper and more tears slipped out, her pink eyes darkening with sadness. No one was out, no one could help. The streets were deserted, desolate and dark with the shadow of the over-hanging clouds. Running a hand through her silver hair, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes, not that improved her visibility but not by much. Her desperation and frustration increased, her body began to tremble with cold and anger. Looking around, she ran over to the nearest house and knocked both forcefully and rapidly, her pale fists making sharp thuds that broke the thick silence around her. Gazing up at the door, she halted as someone opened the door.

A man, dark haired and bright eyed, he looked no more than a scare twenty-one, handsome yet regal, one thing made Aimi instantly wary -- he had rosy cheeks -- the smell of alcohol reached Aimi's sensitive nose and she backed up a step cautiously -- regretting that she even approached this house, this man could not help her in any way. In fact, he could possibly even hinder her even more. "Hey, whoo'sh dish?" the man slurred his words, he was obviously more than a little intoxicated, he gave her a wide grin. "Whoo're yeeeew, littlll miss? and what arr yew doooing out in the rain?" he leaned forward a bit and Aimi took another step back, she couldn't answer him due to the switch, not that she wanted to anyway -- he would be no help. The man's grin faded a bit and turned into a smile. "Shy one, arr yew?" he took a step forward, she took a step back, sloshing out into the rain again. Her eyes were glimmering with a slight fear and the man raised his hands in a rather defensive way as she stared. "'Ey, don't be scured, I'ma not gonna huurt yew," Aimi's eyes narrowed as she turned around and began to limp away. "Hey! Wa-wait!" she didn't. All she wanted was to leave, and she did. He didn't follow her, he probably didn't want to get into the rain.

Aimi didn't try knocking on another door, she didn't want to same thing to happen again -- it would be very unpleasant. She continued walking, her pale eyes taking in the houses. The neighborhood soon changed and she found herself in a new area. The only way she could tell was by the way the houses were built, they were different. As she walked, the houses around her had bright windows -- except one. There was one dark one, and Aimi knew it wasn't that late... so the inhabitant must have been out. Maybe they can help me... she thought desperately, taking a seat in front of the house. The rain was blocked by a small overhang by the door -- blocking the two low steps that led to the front door. She took a seat on the top one and leaned her head against the wooden door, watching the sheets of rain slip down with unblinking eyes.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

I'm Miss A i r e l l C a e l a n E c h o and I'm your beloved P a i n t e r
ain't no c o l o u r p a i n t gonna c o v e r the s t a i n s, the p i c t u r e s on the w a l l will a l l r e m a i n

Keep me listed under A i r e l l is fine, by the way it's pronounced [Ay-Rel] um, maybe I'll let slip A i, or C a e but nothing else. in your cell phone
I'm about S e v e n t e e n years young
Let me tell you a story about myself. You're seriously asking this. Really? Fine. Since I was little, painting has been my obsession. It started out with a blank piece of paper and brand new, little tubs of bright fingerpaints. I was five at the time, I remember this quite well. Sitting in my room, huge and a blinding white as the sun shone through spotless windows -- but it provided excellent light for painting. I opened the tubs and began to draw the tree outside of our house. A large oak, it's leaves flaming colors since it was mid-Autumn. I suppose I did not have an aptitude for painting right away -- I found the painting later and thought it looked like a brown blob on fire. But back then, I was absolutely enticed by how my fingers caressed the page in smooth strokes, how the paint felt slick and reduced the friction between my flesh and paper, how the sun shone at the most marvelous angle for me to get the "perfect" painting. The spell ended shortly. My mother walked into the room and saw me enveloped and concentrating on getting the leaves right. She wasn't too happy.

Right away, she told me to let go of such childish notions, for I was suppose to succeed her in the field of medicine -- I was suppose to be an esteemed doctor. I guess my love for it was obvious even to her. Let me tell you a bit about my mother. She's the most sly, conniving, stubborn, yet caring woman you'll ever meet. As a doctor, she is loved and requested by all. As a mother, she's definitely the slave-driver of the house. Me, my father and my older sister are constantly tormented by her requests and demands. Not to say she was not a good mother, just exceedingly demanding. So, when she saw me so wrapped up in the sights and senses of painting -- it got to her. Her little dream was about to shattered, and she wasn't about to let that happen anytime soon. She removed all art tools from me, I was heartbroken.

Five years passed before I touched paint again. It was in school and we were suppose to paint a still life. In the center of the room there was a big blue bowl with an apple, a large bruise marring it's sleek red color on it's side, an overripe banana that was more brown that yellow, green grapes that were obviously dropped more than once as most of them were squished, and a lone cherry on top of it all that was actually more or less perfect. Needless to say, I was bored with the dullness of it. I began to imagine a city, bustling people crossing streets on crosswalks with bright white symbols, streetlights that halted or sped up traffic, the cars themselves zooming across the pavement -- unhindered by anything and everything. I drew that instead, imagining the city in my mind's eyes as I painted. The feeling of painting was familiar and I settles into it as one would settles into a worn couch. Pretty soon, it was completed -- a genuine work of art that only a person gifted in art could do. Nevertheless, despite all the compliments.

I got an F on the assignment.

I thought it was worth it though, because that was when my mother saw. Saw my potential where she was blinded before. My father had always seen it, as had my sister -- it was just her. We were currently residing in USA then, Colorado to specify a bit.My mother had heard of art schools over in England where things were much better and skills were refined. So we set out for England, leaving behind everything I knew and held dear. My mother resumed her spot as a doctor, my father actually got a better job as the manager of a big company and my sister became a writer. As I went through high school, I was praised for my artistic talent and was put in advanced classes for painting. Though I was considered the Art Freak, a person not to be associated with unless you wanted to commit social suicide -- I didn't care, painting was my passion, they weren't. My mother still was not too happy that I was caught up all in painting rather than in my grades. But still.

She enrolled me in MSA.

A dream come true, a please where I can achieve my dream of becoming an artist and my paintings featured in a grand art show, where I can make my mother proud and see me as an accomplishment rather than a disappointment. Is that really too much to ask?


Do you really want to know me? To me, personality is so much more important that looks. And if you're like me, well, you'll want to read this part. I'm shy, really shy. As in, I won't talk to a person first, especially if the person is a member of the opposite sex. By then, you'll be lucky if I manage to speak at all, I'll probably stutter a bit and it'll definitely be accompanied by a blush. That said, I'm also withdrawn. All those years of being the Art Freak and cause of social suicide, I don't talk to people much unless they speak to me first. I'm obsessive when it comes to painting, I won't stop until I have something I can be proud of. I'm actually really, really smart. Nothing less than an A in my life. Okay, okay. There was that ONE art project, so sue me. Between painting a city and a bruised apple, which would you choose? I suppose this is why it pains my mother so much to let me go to the clutches of art -- I would have been an excellent doctor. I'm stubborn, a quality inherited by my mother. You can't get me to budge on anything without a thorough convincing. I don't really care what anyone thinks, only thing that matters is how I think and I'm really quiet and soft-spoken to the extreme. I'm also kind and caring, mother again. I can't stand to see someone in trouble -- I feel the compelling urge to help immediately. My bad qualities? I hate too easily, especially if you get on my nerves with one of the personality traits I despise. Arrogance, rudeness, brash, etc. I will instantly ignore you and push you out of my mind until you no longer exist in my world. But, I can also forgive and forget and apologize just as quickly -- especially if I was the one who was wrong. As an apology gift, I will more than likely paint you a picture of a beautiful scene of something I know you love. Speaking of love, I don't believe in it. Or rather, I don't believe it will ever happen to me. I can hide my feelings really well, sometimes I believed I should be an actress instead of a painter because I can act like I'm okay with my mother thinking about am an absolute disappointment -- I can fake smiles like they are real and I have yet to meet a person who can see through them.

"Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart."

My puppet master is TRAGiC DiViNiTY

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

╔════════════════════════════════════╗
B e c a u s e every :: wasted :: day becomes a [[ wasted ]] chance
You're g o nn a wake up feeling s.o.rr.y
Because !LIFE! wont wait
I >>g u e s s<< it's up to {{Y O U}}
╚════════════════════════════════════╝

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

╔════════════════════════════════════╗
B e c a u s e every :: wasted :: day becomes a [[ wasted ]] chance
You're g o nn a wake up feeling s.o.rr.y
Because !LIFE! wont wait
I >>g u e s s<< it's up to {{Y O U}}
╚════════════════════════════════════╝

A cacophony of sound, sudden and blaring jolted Airell from her lovely, floaty dreams. "If I had to, I would put myself right beside you, so let me ask Would you like that? Would you like that?" The girl groaned loudly, the sound muffled by the warm, pale blue comforter, the bedsheets were pushed off in the thrashes of the night, forming a neat bundle. Airell was not a restful sleeper, tossing and turning during the night was her specialty. The groan melted perfectly into one of the lead singer's screams -- the bass was grating on her last nerve. "No, what I'd like is for you to shut up, can you do that?" she mumbled to herself as she reached out from beneath the comforter and lowered the volume on her iHome. The Music dulled in volume until it was barely over a pleasant background level. Yawning loudly, the girl pushed back the cover and it revealed a slender girl clad in white and pink Hello Kitty Pajamas, her pale blue eyes bleary with sleep, full, pale pink lips and a mop of obnoxious black and pink hair that was a current mottled and tangled mess. "No, I don't want to get up..." Her voice was lazy and hoarse and she laid a pale hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun that seeped in through her windows. Sighing loudly, she swung her long legs over and placed her bare feet on the floor. Instantly, she recoiled at the shock of how cold the floor really was, lifting her feet off the floor, she eyed the way to the bathroom -- deciding the quickest and easiest possible way to get across without freezing her feet to death -- she really needed to pee. Her legs curled up against her chest, she laid her head on her knees, her hair falling forward and creating a thick curtain across the tops of her knees.

Sitting there, immobile for so long, her legs started to get numb, so she put them down again slowly and hesitantly. Airell's eyes scoured her room, it was completely spotless. And by spotless, I mean, without a trace that she even lived there. Her curtains were the same shade of pale blue as her sheets and comforter, the same shade as the sheets they place on hospital beds. Pulled half over the windows, she saw that they didn't quite cover the sun -- which had blinded her earlier. The carpet was as soft as when she moved in, impeccable. There were no paint stains, or odd splashes of color, as one would expect in a room of a painter. As long as she figured, Airell tried to make everything as impersonal as she could, for it could all be over as soon as her mother wished it -- and her mother had strange whims sometimes. The blue orbs of her eyes cleared a bit the longer she stayed awake, so she set her feet down and got up. Though it was still just as cold, somehow it was a bit more tolerable. Making her way to the bathroom, she paused to look out the window and saw students out in the court. Airell froze in shock. How late was it?! Rushing over to get her cell phone, she slipped up the front and saw that classes started in less that fifteen minutes. Her eyes widened in surprise and panic and she dropped her phone on her bed and made her way to the closet.

Airell's now bright eyes scanned her mess of clothes, she was actually very disorganized when it came to her things, and picked out random clothes then matched more or less and weren't completely wrinkled. She made her way to the bathroom as she shed her pajamas and littered them on the floor, pulled on a black and hot pink tank top with a silver knuckle duster on it and black Skinny Jeans with hot pink stars and skulls on the back of her left leg. She tripped more than once and dropped the rest of her clothes as she finally reached the bathroom. Brushing out her hair, she brushed her teeth at the same time. More than once, she ended up sticking her hair brush in her mouth and toothbrush in her hair. Mumbling foul curses, she rinsed her mouth clean and finally finished dressing. She slipped on her Hoodie, complete with kitty ears on the hood, and her Chucks. Running, she grabbed an apple from the top of her dresser -- she always kept food with her -- and rushed out the door, grabbing her Backpack, iPod and cell phone on the way.

As Airell made her way through the hall quickly, she could feel people staring at her distastefully, taking in her rushed, panicked air and slightly wrinkled clothes -- thinking for sure that she was disgusting and not up to their standards. It didn't matter, she was use to it from being the social suicide bomber in high school. She had never been one of them, she considered herself more earthy, in-touch with her inner wish to be messy, not to mention she was a lot younger than most of them. Her mom had let her go to MSA as soon as she graduated, which was two years ahead of everyone else -- she was like a regular kid in terms of how she was perceived. Never mind that her mother was an esteemed doctor that could completely mess up their parents if they ever got hurt -- or refuse to treat them at all. More huffing as she elbowed her way past a throng of people in the middle of a hallway, their scornful murmurs followed Airell as she walked and she grimaced, taking a bite of her apple. What was she suppose to do anyway? Fake more smiles, laughter and kiss up to the populars just to be included? No thanks. Her eyes now carried the tell-tale darkness of sadness as she pushed her way to the cafeteria. She took in the scene before her, everybody had already split up into twos, groups or had already left for class. Sighing and running her free hand through her streaked hair, she decided to blow off the whole notion of breakfast and finish her apple and in the art room.

The art room was a lovely place, full of shining light that provided the perfect environment for shading or bringing out the hidden side of things -- the side that you almost never see. It also had the most wonderful view of a nearby forest, the greens and blues captivate anyone who looks out to the outside world. Airell Made her way in and sat down on one of the stools, her legs crossed beneath it as she munched on her apple. The teacher was no where to be seen, neither were any of the students. Grimacing and taking another bite, her brows furrowed as she looked at the clock.

There were still fifteen minutes until class started.

Airell felt like shooting herself in the face, her face a bright red with embarressment as she put down her half eaten apple. She had rushed for nothing, nothing. Shrugging, trying to seem nonchalant, she decided to make the best of her extra time. Picking up a pack of paintbrushes, paint thinner, a paint palette and different colors of paint. She walked up to an easel facing the window and studied the trees and overall scenery. Turning on her iPod, she turned her music all the way up and placed her earbuds in her ears.

Picking up the materials, she began to paint, losing herself completely in what she was doing.

Airell actually painted to the rhythm of the music she was listening to. Every verse, every drum hit, every guitar strum. She also danced to the beat, swaying as she painted, her blue eyes never leaving the canvas and her face determined. She knew that this was what she was suppose to do with herself -- with her life. She was a born painter, and she was going to die a painter. If only her mother would realize that. Pausing in mid-stroke, she though about her mother. Airell missed all of her family, and wished she could be there with them. But MSA was where she belonged if she was going to get somewhere -- and not as a doctor, but by doing something she absolutely loved to do. She was going to convince her mother that what she was doing was worthwhile -- that it all mattered to her and she was going to make it work. You'll see mom, I'll make you proud someday. Doing what I love to do. Promise. she thought, as if her mother could really hear her and her promise that meantt so much.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

Hey there, I don't know whether you clicked on this search thread on accident or if you're really looking to 1x1 with someone, but hey, you're welcome to stay a while.
Name's Jackie, but you can call me by any variety of things. Tragic, Di, Vi, Divinity, or some of you may know me by me previous username Princess Vampireska. Any of these work, I'm not really picky.
I'm not going to tell you my age, all you need to know is that I am an Advanced Literate roleplayer.
Hey, hey! Don't let that scare you, I can really work with anything as long as you are at least literate. I will try to match your posts.
My roleplays are currently moving at the speed of a snail with jet-lag, so you know, I'm looking for some new ones. *smile*
Oh, and in case you couldn't tell, I like colorful things, and love to decorate my posts all pretty-like. I like to make everyone of my posts Eye Candy for my partners.
So, come and stay a while. Read my plots, ideas and preferences and who knows, maybe you'll want to RP with me.


Currently;; Searching||Not Searching

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

You took the bait, so now, I will tell you my limits ;; what I can &&;; can't do. Also, I will include info you should know at the bottom.

[ღ] Pertaining to my literate skill, as I have mentioned in the above post, I am advanced literate. I don't limit myself to that level however, because I can match anyone who is literate and above. Because, if the literate people don't roleplay, they will never get to the Adv. Literate stage, right? I usually write 3-4 really thick paragraphs, and by really thick, I mean like... 10-15 sentences each. I can write 6-7 paragraphs if I'm starting or am in the mood, or inspired to do so. I will usually tackle this is I am really enthusiastic about the idea.

[ღ] I can do either a serious roleplay, or a lighthearted, fun roleplay -- I'm flexible like that. I am a mature roleplayer, and so I expect you to be the same.

[ღ] I will only roleplay in private threads. Yes, you read right. I will not do PM's, (things get lost in the black hole called my inbox) MSN, IMs, (posts are usually too short for me), and NO EMAIL (too much spam in my inbox to keep track of the message). And let's face it, I love making my posts pretty. I will use MSN or Myspace to keep in contact with you, because talking usually leads to more interesting RP plots, right?

[ღ] Both real and anime is fine by me, I really have no qualms about either thing.

[ღ] I can play both male or female. Now, this does not mean that you can come whining to me, "Jackie, please come play a male for me~! Because I only play girls!" NO. NO. NO. ******** NO. I can play a male, this does not mean I will always be in the mood to play a male. So, if you came begging to me to play a guy, prepare to be met with an extremely rude reply or just plain be ignored.

[ღ] I am a fast typer, but sometimes ideas don't flow like their suppose to. So, if I don't post immediately after you do, I don;t want you to spam me with PMs demanding me to post. I HAVE A LIFE. Not a very full one, but still. I have HOMEWORK, especially in this time of year where they piled it on us before we get out of school. SO, don't pressure me and I will extend the same courtesy to you, alright? Now, this doesn't mean you can take forever to post, but I mean one or two days without posting is fine by me. After that, expect to get a PM.

[ღ] Whoa, I sounded like a b***h up there. I'm really not, I swear. Usually at least. I'm nice, I'm a bit spazzy sometimes and I tend to blabber. Not to mention I tend to overuse those smilies a lot. [i.e. "|D, 8D, =D, ^^, XD and so on...]

[ღ] The last thing I want to mention, the ideas I have are not set in stone and I'd appreciate your input. Also, a little reminder, don't forget to use spell check on your post, because if I can't understand it, I will be a VERY unhappy Jackie. *frowns*

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

★★★★★↪ Yes, yes! I will marry you if you do this.
★★★★★↪ Let's do it because it's rad, baby.
★★★★★↪ Groovy, let's go.
★★★★★↪ Maybe, let's talk.
★★★★★↪ Eh, it's gonna take a good plot to get this going.
★★★★★↪ No way, no how.
strike↪ Convince me.

If the text is bolded this is the character I would love to play. If the text is normal, I really don't care.
&& most of the time, I do not like to play canons, I mostly play OCs, but sometimes I can be convinced — depending on my mood.

xxxxxxxxxx¿Mythical?

|★★★★★ | Vampire ☓ Vampire
| ★★★★★ | Vampire ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Werewolf ☓ Werewolf
| ★★★★★ | Werewolf ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | God ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Ghost ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Angel ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Human ☓ Mermaid
| ★★★★★ | Merman ☓ Human

[Any pairing you were wondering about? Go ahead and ask]


xxxxxxxxxx¿Real Life?


| ★★★★★ | Loner ☓ Popular
| ★★★★★ | Suicidal Patient ☓ Therapist
| ★★★★★ | Mentally Insane☓ Doctor
| ★★★★★ | Band Member ☓ Fan
| ★★★★★ | Best Friend ☓ Best Friend
| ★★★★★ | Doctor ☓ Patient
| ★★★★★ | Sister ☓ Stepbrother


[Any pairing you were wondering about? Go ahead and ask]


xxxxxxxxxx¿Movies | Anime?
| ★★★★★ | Resident Evil — Survivor ☓ Survivor
| ★★★★★ | Underworld — Vampire/Lycan Hybrid ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Spirited Away — Mythical Helper ☓ Spirited Away Human
| ★★★★★ | Inuyasha — Demon ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Fruits Basket — Zodiac ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Chobits — Robot ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Kannazuki no Miko — Member of the Orochi ☓ Lunar/ Solar Priestess
| ★★★★★ | Black Cat — Chrono's Number Member ☓ Sweeper/Apostles of the Stars member
| ★★★★★ | Vampire Knight — Kaname or Zero ☓ OC Human
| ★★★★★ | Modern Romeo and Juliet — Romeo ☓ Juliet[
| ★★★★★ | Modern Disney Fairy Tales — Any Prince☓ Any Princess

[Any pairing you were wondering about? Go ahead and ask]


xxxxxxxxxx¿Books | Manga?

| ★★★★★ | Maximum Ride — Avian ☓ Human
| ★★★★★ | Midnighters — Midnighter ☓ Human/Midnighter
| ★★★★★ | Fushigi Yuugi — Guardian ☓ Priestess
| ★★★★★ | Ugies Series — Zane/ Pretty ☓ Ugly

[Any pairing you were wondering about? Go ahead and ask]

xxxxxxxxxx¿Games?
| ★★★★★ | Kingdom Hearts — Riku/Nobody OC ☓ Keyblader

[Any pairing you were wondering about? Go ahead and ask]


xxxxxxxxxxWill Never in Hell Do
Yuri (sorry, not good at it)
Mecha

SIDE NOTE;; Any yaoi will take through convincing on your part, because frankly, I haven't had much practice with it.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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Come on d o w n and w.a.l.k the {{moonlit}} mile
You've got the [ [p e r f e c t] ] teeth.
You've got the !PERFECT! smile
You do it all >>wrong<< but you do it in ( S T Y L E )
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