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Raye Abigail McCoy

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            Ray-Ray, Abby, or Rabbs.
            Seventeen
            Lass
            Straight as a flagpole.
            MR. JOCK
            Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds
            Irish-American



            I love to play volleyball.
            I own a three legged cat named Fawna.
            I played a minor role in a commercial as a child.
            I have a younger brother who is blind.
            I also have two elder sisters; both of whom are twenty-four.
            I love watching movies.
            I play the violin.
            I can also sing well.
            My birhtday is July Fourth; meaning I'm one of the youngest in my grade.
            I can't swim.



            Long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...no, no just kidding. Star Wars is one of my favorite movies, but I don't obsess that much. On the night of July Fourth, just after a bout of amazing fireworks at our local theme park, my mother went into labor. My father, and my two older sisters who were seven at the time, rushed to the nearest hospital in our little junk car, my panicking mom in tow. As the last firework spark burnt out, I burst into the world. It had taken three and a half painstaking hours, but my mother had finally got me out of there. So, at eleven thirty at night, my father and my older sisters toddled in to see newborn little ol' me. The next week or so my mother and I were kept in the hospital. I was a premature baby, which accounts for my petite stature, and they wanted to make sure I'd survive. But I'm tough as nails and pulled through! That's my birth, for you.

            When I was about one, my family moved from The Lone Star State, Texas for those who didn't know, and moved to Upstate New York. My mother said it was because my father was sick of the farmers who lived next door and woke up at six a.m. My father said that it was because my mother said "It's high time we move out of this dump!". I don't know why my mother would say that, seeing as she doesn't have a Western accent but an Irish one. My sisters, Maeve and Maureen, say it's because a priest told our parents the house was haunted! Either way, we were out of there. So I moved here, to this mess of a place, right next to Craig Jake Hamick.

            Craig Jake Hamick, or just Jake, has been my best friend since pre-k. He's a sweet guy and we've been friends for so long, I don't know what I'd do without him. The only thing I haven't told him is my undeniable crush on the jock of our school. I think he'd hate me if I told him so, because in the eighth grade, we both promised that we wouldn't even glance at the cheerleaders and jocks. I sometimes help him with his younger siblings, I usually bring over Rory, my blind little brother, too. Speaking of Rory, you probably want to know how he got blind, don't you?

            Rory is my adorable, thirteen year old brother. When he was born, there was a defect with his eyes. Apparently, when he was in the womb, they didn't develop properly so he couldn't see. I love his eyes, even though they're blind. They're this shade of light blue that reminds me of clouds right before they turn into storm clouds. He also plays piano, I don't know how or why but he does, and damn, is he good at it. If I could play like him, I don't know what'd I do. He's already decided to become a concert pianist, however. Sometimes I do duets with him at home on my violin. I was forced to take violin, by the way! I didn't freely choose it! I'd rather sing...it's a secret passion of mine. The only other souls who know are my mother and Jake.

            I suppose the only other thing I could talk about is my Irish heritage (which I'm damn proud of.) My mother and father are both Irish and have authentic Irish accents. I made myself lose my Irish accent because kids at school kept asking me where my pot o' gold was. That, and why didn't I know the Lucky Charms man. After a fist fight, which I won, by the way, I was told to do something about my attitude. Instead, I chose to get rid of the accent that got me teased. Saved me trouble. In general, I'm not a very mean person, but don't get on my nerves. I have a short temper, you know. I blame the red hair and the Irish heritage.



Crimson
Chocolate
The Girl Next Door
redcapricorn22
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                                              Charles hesitated a moment before returning the embrace. She was warm, unlike in his dreams. In his dreams she was so cold, she was nearly frigid. It was almost like she was an inanimate object, and most of the time she was his pillow. He breathed in, her sweet scent quickly grasping onto his inhale. She smelt something like a mix of lavender and roses, or maybe it was tulips and lilacs... Charles didn't know. He didn't usually waste his time smelling s**t like a girl's scent. When she backed away from his chest, Charles wanted to let out a whine. He was getting cold, how the hell she wasn't was beyond him, now that her warmth pulled away from him. She gave him a little shove towards the bed and then told him to sleep again. Charles blinked. The alcohol must still have been in his saliva. Now he felt guilty. He had probably made her angry. Charles looked back to a few minutes ago after his kiss of reality. She had slid her hands down to her slender waist (Charles mentally smacked himself when he started to think bad thoughts about what was below her waist) and tapped her delicate fingers against her small stomach.

                                              "I'll brush my teeth, wash my face, and get dressed. I'm too awake to go back. Plus I'd be afraid that'd you be gone when I went to sleep again." He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her cheek bone affectionately and then let go. Charles turned around, walked to his dresser and pulled out some jeans, a shirt that proudly read the words "Muay Thai Boxing Arena, Soi Yenakat", a new undershirt, and a black hoodie. He flashed Bride a smile and then pointed to his hoodie drawer. It was a drawer full of hoodies that he had bought over the years. Some of Maeve's clothes were also in this drawer, just in case a girl around eighteen or seventeen who was petite needed some clothes. "If you want to borrow one of Maeve or I's hoodies, just grab them out of this drawer, 'k? I'm going to brush my teeth and stuff."

                                              Charles stepped out into the hallway, closing his bedroom door behind him carefully. He noticed that Bronx and Cheyenne's door was still closed and that the smell, and sound, of frying bacon wasn't echoing through the house. Why frying bacon? Bronx was coach of the university football team that was about an hour away, and he claimed that bacon was what he needed to survive. Now, Charles thought, how much stamina did you need to yell at college age boys when you were only thirty-nine? Charles waved it off. How was he supposed to explain his adoptive parent's activities? Sure, he had lived with them at least eight or nine years but still. Charles walked into the bathroom with those thoughts coursing through his head.

                                              After putting on his fresh clothes and brushing his teeth at least three times, Charles stepped out of the bathroom. The sound of Bronx and Cheyenne lightly conversing and light kissing along with the smell of bacon wafting up to the second floor. Charles wished they would keep the PDA, or Public Displays of Affection, down to a minimum. Charles knew that they loved each other and they believed they were 'The One' for each other, but it was a bit embarrassing when they made out in front of his friends. Charles could see that their bedroom door was open. Big surprise to see their bed was a little more messy then it should have been. He knew that both Bronx and Cheyenne were rather still sleepers, and deep sleepers. Charles shook off the thoughts. It was a little sick to think that his parents still did...that. He opened his door and then walked into his room.

                                              The curtains that hung from his windows were open, and light poured in from outside. Bride didn't seem to notice his walking in. Charles smiled, walked behind her, and then embraced her. He rest his head on the back of hers and then rested his chin on her shoulder. "Miss me?"





___________________________________________________________

we m a k e the same m i s t a k e s
I take the f a l l for y o u
I hope you n e e d this n o w
B e c a u s e I still d o

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                                              English class was usually one of Raye's favorite classes but today, on the first day of her senior year, Raye just wanted to go home and sit under the covers like she had done all summer. Maybe wait for Jake to call her. But school had denied the pleasure of summer but restarting again. Raye looked around class. Libby, Roxanne, that one kid...oh yeah! Alex, Felix, Francis, Jake (That'll be interesting.), oh hey look! A new girl!, and, Raye almost drooled, Zach. Maybe this would be a good senior year! Raye then turned her robin egg blue eyes up to the front of the class. The clock seemed to taunt her. The second hand moved, moved, and then froze. Moved, moved, froze, Moved, moved, froze. Her boots tapped lightly on the floor. Her stomach seemed to vibrate in her body, she was so hungry. Raye felt her eyes drift towards the door. Were there people out there?

                                              "BRING!"

                                              Raye almost jumped. The silence had been the norm for so long that her body had suddenly got accustomed to it. She slid out of her desk and picked up her books. Why she had brought them she didn't know, but Raye just had. The redhead fled out of the classroom. Raye trotted over to her locker, weaving through oncoming teens. A freshman ran into her, looked scared, and ran away. And suddenly, Raye was aware of her power as a senior. Smiling, her hand fingered her lock. The door didn't budge. Raye grimaced and tried to unlock the door again. Why? Why? Didn't this stupid hunk of metal know how angry she was? She was a growing girl! She needed her food! Raye inhaled a bit of air. Calming down, calming down. Her pale fingers flicked through the numbers again and the door clicked at her. She opened the locker and put in her books. Raye pulled out her usual bag lunch and then shut the locker angrily.

                                              "I hate you locker."

                                              Raye walked over to the cafeteria, brown paper lunch bag in hand. There wasn't one day that Raye went without her mother's home-cooked food. She had done it since kindergarten. Only this time she didn't have the cartoon lunchbox. When she pushed open the doors of the cafeteria, noise hit her like a brick wall. Again, silence had been the norm and, again, Raye had to get used to it. Sighing, she hid the paper bag behind her back and looked around the cafeteria for her friends. She spotted Jake with Alex, oh yes! She remembered his name!, and walked over there casually for a second. Suddenly, Zach slid into the seat next to Alex. Raye stopped suddenly. She stood there, frozen. Raye took a deep inhale of air and then shakily kept walking over to the table. She sat on a seat at the same table as the same boys, her eyes downcast.

                                              'He's not here, he's not here, he's not here. Just eat your lunch, just eat your lunch...' Raye put her paper bag on the table and put the contents on the table. An apple, a ham sandwich, a bottle of water (which she probably wouldn't drink), and a napkin. her eyes remained on her food. Her pale fingers grasped the apple and then brought it up to her light pink lips. She took a bite, and then she braved looking up. Zach was grasping that one kid's, Alex, arm and just waiting for a reaction. Raye crossed her arms on the table and looked away, taking nervous nibbles of her apple. She desperately wanted to talk to Jake, or hide behind him or something! Raye put the apple on the napkin and opened the sandwich. her mouth was rather dry when she took a light bite out of the bread. She swallowed what little she had eaten.

                                              Raye hated crushing. The crush thing in general, ticked her off. It made her feel out of control and that her emotions could make her do stupid stuff. Though, she couldn't stop the day dreams. Zach asking her on a date...Zach asking her to the prom...Zach asking to marry him...Raye sighed inwardly. She had way too much time on her hands these days, didn't she? Now she really wished she was under the covers again. his name kept ringing in her ears:

                                              'Zach, Zach, Zach, Zach!'

                                              "SHUT UP!" Raye suddenly yelled loudly. This brought her back to reality. Nobody in the cafeteria seemed to notice or sudden outburst. Well...hopefully nobody.


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► ► ► Ģəηəяαℓ ιηғσямαтιση x x x x x x x x x x
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Welcome to my masters home! My name is Zanza Chiguza. Whats yours?

I am a Werewolf, I hope that doesn't disturb you.

As you can see, I am Female. Well, maybe it was hard to see.

But, even though I am, I still really like Boys,
making me straight

The color of my thoughts are Sienna, but when I talk they seem to change to Dark Salmon

► ► ► ωħγ ιм ιη α cαɠə x x x x x x x x x x x x
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I remember a lot from before my life here; Zanza was born long ago, when man had not yet known the existence of her race. Unlike stereotype, her race had been a silent, non-man eating race. They consisted off of the animals of the forest, like their relatives the wolves. That is not important now, though. What is important, was that Zanza was born right before the turmoil of man's first war against mystical creatures. This war lasted many years, and Zanza herself sacrificed much, including her own parents and younger brother. In the end, all of her race, what was left of it, was enslaved. Not much happened between the war for Zanza. Indeed, her whole life she fought, knowing nothing else besides it. The few years she had before the war was running. The few years after it has constantly consisted of the same thing. She has no desire to help humans in any way for what they have done to her, which is why she is never in the same place at one time.

I also act in a certain way, which is Zanza has never been very loud. Her birth was quiet, and as a child she never had the desire to scream and yell like the other werewolf children. However, this lack of volume makes up in cunningness. She is especially clever in war tactics and escape. When she does say things they consist of the two previously mentioned topics or a sarcastic comment. The most time Zanza shows passion is when she is defending something she loves. She is a lone creature by nature, but also has an air of the lonely because of her history. Love is something not very familiar to her, so when she expresses herself, a rare occasion all in its self, it is a very awkward thing. The cold interior and exterior also comes with another bonus: the gift of understanding. It could also be a touch of her deceased mother this empathetic side.

► ► ► υηιмρσятαηт ιηғσямαтιση x x x x x x xx
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Just so you know, I really love Swords, the forest, good music, animals, and, surprisingly, the flower simply called the frangipani.

And I really dispise People who are unbelievably cheerful, ignorance, humans, and wearing dresses.

This might sound strange, but I freak when I see Watching one of her loved ones die all over again, and snakes.

And if I could, I would play So Cold all day and night until I fall asleep.


I have named the little voice inside my head redcapricorn22. The one
that decides my next move.
You're so cold,
xxxxxxxxxxxbut you feel alive
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxLay your hand on me
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxOne last time
Zanza Chigusa
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The werewolf known as Zanza didn't pay attention to the fact she wasn't asleep, and the she hadn't been in slumber for quite some time now. The Demon known as Sebastian she knew was asleep still. Her acute hearing heard him slumbering right underneath her perch on the roof. The same sense told her that nobody else besides her was awake. The fact that Zanza was awake before anyone even peeped an eye open was not new to the werewolf. This event happened every night. She would sleep at least four hours before the same nightmare would come back. The nightmare was awful, but Zanza's awakening from it never alarmed anybody. So she sat on the castle roof, high above the clouds.

The unamused chocolate eyes watched as the orange and red hues brushed over her. Zanza was resting her chin on her knees, her knees being hugged by her arms. This was the postion she had assumed after a cold chill around three A.M. She stood up, not awed by the beauty of the sun rise like most creatures would be. She found nothing spectacular in the sunrise. After seeing as many as she had, it simply couldn't be spectacular. Zanza jumped down the roof and then to the nearest window sill. She landed gracefully. Zanza saw that Sebastian was already up. She tilted her head. The werewolf hadn't heard the demon get up. Zanza shrugged her shoulders in a effortless manner. Did she care? She walked through the room and down the corridor, and into the kitchen where the butler and the....the...

cat.

The cat twisted its head and looked at Zanza for a minute before baring its teeth. Zanza did the same in response, showing the cat her long canines, a feature werewolves and vampires shared alike. Her brow furrowed making her face more fierce adn the cat looked away, seemingly acknowledging the fact that Zanza was the larger of two forces in this battle. Zanza, in general, liked animals but cats...were a whole other matter. The chain of her behavior went like this:

Werewolves furthermost relatives were the wolves. Wolves were canines. Canines, in most cases, detest cats. Therefore, werewolves adapt this trait, and also detest cats.

Zanza adjusted her leather shorts and then checked the rest of her clothes. Her tunic was a light magenta, the color of her old werewolf clan, and her vest was also the same dark leather her short wore. On her feet were simple boots. None of the clothes she wore were common to what the humans wore, and she felt she was better for it. Zanza slipped into the seat closest to the window and then rolled her head in Sebastians direction.

"Hello Sebastian." Zanza greeted monotously.

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Aye! My Name Is: Katie Chiguza.
My Job as the crew.. Cabin Girl
Dead men Tell no tales.. I was born into the Chiguza's, a family of rich traders and merchants. I had two brothers, Ross, my twin, and my younger brother, Jason and we all got what we wanted, when we wanted. We were spoiled rotten, and we wanted it to stay that way. One day, my father announced that he was going to take my whole family on a vacation to the Indies. We were ecstatic. We had begged and begged him before to take us somewhere and finally he did! Unfortunately for us, our ship was taken over by both of the notorious pirate crews of the seas. Our father and mother got killed before our eyes and I don't know what happened to my little brother Jason. I've been on The Graceful Death since then.
Why I became a Pirate: Well, I didn't really have a choice. My family's ship was attacked by The Graceful Death and Satan's Howl at the same time. My brother Ross and I are twins, so, in a rare act of truce, they split us and I became Graceful Death's Cabin Girl, and he became Satan's Howl's Cabin Boy. Really, I'd much rather live on land but I have to work for my freedom.
I enjoy Books, painting, music, cats, and land.
I hate this: Mopping, traveling, wearing trousers, and being under attack.
I like: Boys!
Age- Seventeen.
Gender- Female
Race-* Human.
My weapon: The mop. Or whatever someone decides to give me.
Why I'm wanted I'm not actually wanted because I'm not supposed to be a pirate!
How much is on my head: Nothing.
Who is The pirate Behide the pirate: redcapricorn22
Theme Song:She's A Lady

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Aye! My Name Is: Ross Chiguza.
My Job in crew.. Cabin Boy
Dead men Tell no tales.. I was born into a wealthy family of merchants and traders. I was born the heir to the head of the family. I had the genes of traveling in my body, unlike my twin sister Katie, and I was eager every time that my father was leaving for a trip to ask if I could come along. Of course he did not acknowledge my requests because I was so young. So I did what he asked until I was sixteen. I studied hard, I learned my arithmetic, I helped control the house while he was gone, and so on. Finally, he told my family that we would all take a vacation to the Indies. Excited as all hell, I packed fast and soon we set sail. Of course, our ship was attacked by both Satan's Howl and The Graceful Death. My parents were killed, I don't quite remember what happened to my little brother, Jason, and that's all my story.
Why I became a Pirate: Not to complain or anything, but I didn't really want to become a pirate. I was vying my father's position as president of the Chiguza's Imports. Satan's Howl and The Graceful Death attacked the ship at the same time and Satan's Howl needed a Cabin Boy. That's why.
Aye My booty Fencing, traveling, playing the piano, kiwi, and dogs.
I hate this: Rats, spicy food, and sitting still.
I like: Girls.
Age- Seventeen.
Gender Male.
Race-* Human.
My weapon's: Whatever they decided to give me, I guess.
Why im wanted I don't think this can apply to me.
How much is on my head: Uh, nothing.
Who is The pirate Behide the pirate: redcapricorn22
Theme Song:Citizen Soldier
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Hey, l o o k @ me~!
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m y n a m e i s ___Adelaide Persephone Asher___



b u t. t h e y. c a l l. m e// ___Adelaide___



i. h a v e. t h i s. m a n y. c a n d l e s// ___Seventeen___


i. w a s. b o r n. w i t h. a// ___Female___


m y. c u r s e. i s// ___Adelaide has the ability to heal injuries___,s o. i. a m. a// ___Mad Hatter___

t h e. c o n s e q u e n c e s. o f. m y. a c t i o n s. a r e// ___Ace___

t h e s e. j u s t. s u c k// ___Psychopaths, dolphins, ignorance, football, wearing make-up, any body of water (She can't swim) ___

t h e s e. r o c k. m y. s o c k s// ___Oreo cookies, classical music, singing (that one's a secret), chess, Jane Austen, and math.___

y o u'v e. b e e n. w a r n e d// ___Indifferent, intelligent, blunt, literal, strong, observant, and skeptic___

m m m. . .y u m m y// ___Nobody at the moment.___

o h.,. a n d. d o n ' t. f o r g e t// ___Her older brother is one of new teachers.___

b y. t h e. w a y.,. i. l i k e// ___Boys___

f i n d. m e. a t// ___Ace Two___

m y. p u p p e t. m a s t e r// ___redcapricorn22

Hey, l o o k @ me~!
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m y n a m e i s ___Rueben Atlas Spencer___



b u t. t h e y. c a l l. m e// ___Ben___



i. h a v e. t h i s. m a n y. c a n d l e s// ___Twenty-three___


i. w a s. b o r n. w i t h. a// ___Male___


m y. c u r s e. i s// ___Rueben has the ability to control and create water___,s o. i. t e a c h// ___Queen of Hearts___

c r e a t i n g. t h e. n e x t. g e n e r a t i o n. o f// ___Kings___

t h e s e. j u s t. s u c k// ___Sour things, blood, driving or being inside cars, medical shows, wearing flip-flops, horror stories, and horses.___

t h e s e. r o c k. m y. s o c k s// ___His sister (Adelaide), cartoons, cherries, classic rock, baseball, and photography.___

y o u'v e. b e e n. w a r n e d// ___Outgoing, creative, neurotic, emotional, loud, logical, and understanding. ___

m m m. . .y u m m y// ___Nobody currently.___

o h.,. a n d. d o n ' t. f o r g e t// ___After his years at Alice Academy, Rueben got into a car accident. Although he remembers his family history, who they were, who Adelaide is, Rueben has forgotten much of his years at Alice Academy. He is still looking for that girl he fell in love with during his high school years...___

f i n d. m e. a t// ___Six___

m y. p u p p e t. m a s t e r// ___redcapricorn22
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About two minutes after their little bonding, Rueben's father had decided to leave the forest. Rueben's father had work tomorrow, and he had to finish some paper work before going to bed. Knowing his father, the paper work would take hours to finish simply because he would fill one sheet, and then he'd have to fill the same sheet in again for another division. The teen remained at the bank's edge, watching as the waters continually moved. He felt as if there were things below the surface that he didn't quite known about, but maybe he was just being paranoid. The eighteen year old watched the water shiver a few times as something...large moved under the surface.

Rueben nearly jumped out of his pants.

Where did that howl come from? As far as he knew, the last time they had had wolves in the forest was during the eighteenth century. That was before the Great Wolf Hunt of 1902. Rueben sighed. If he was a normal person he'd be running out of the forest with no questions asked. Unfortunately, Rueben wasn't a normal person. In fact, he was rather curious why there was an wide array of
redcapricorn22
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Lawrence Justin Spencer





            On The Outside;;
            Nickname: Usually just Law, or 'Rence.
            Age: Eighteen.
            Gender: Male.
            Born on: December Thirtieth.
            Whose your special someone?:
            Angel Five.
            Your label:
            The Aggressive.



            Behind The Scenes;;
            Personality:
                    Most of Lawrence's problems stem from deep psychological wounds. This makes his personality a rather hard one to explain. Lacking both a mother and father, he never felt the tenderly affection of a mother or the paternal love one gets from a father. This means, for Lawrence, that he does not trust easily, and does not dish out kindness or love easily. He's very blunt, never being taught that some things just don't need to be said. Lawrence can't control his emotions very well. When he's angry, he gets furious, and when he's sad (Which is hardly ever), he gets miserable. Despite these negative traits, Lawrence does have some positive aspects. His determination, for example. If he wants to do something, he will do anything necessary to do it. Lawrence is an open person, which means if you have an idea, he will willingly listen to it.

          Autobiography:
                  Eighteen years ago, a petite, sixteen year old girl approached the Caring Crane Orphanage with a small 'package'. This 'package' was currently asleep, and had a note pinned to his blanket. The mother looked with hesitation at the 'package'. The rush of hormones that entailed with giving birth was telling her that she needed to take care and love the baby. Her mind told her that she loved her parents and boyfriend, and that loving them meant getting rid of...him. She placed the basket on the step, rang the doorbell, left a single tear on Lawrence, and ran off into the night. The orphanage's social worker opened the door, took in the baby, and...well, you know the rest.

                  That was the start of Lawrence Justin Spencer. The orphanage took him in for the first sixteen years of his life, all of which were rather terrible in comparison to normal teenager. The orphanage caretakers, but anybody who entered the building was an enemy. The wore fake smiles, they took him home, and then, after a week of care, they'd bring him back to the dull, gray walls of Caring Crane. Even the other orphanage children hated him. The older kids resented that Lawrence would always be adopted instead of themselves. For this, they beat him senseless. After about two years of being beaten, Lawrence figured how to defend himself. At age sixteen, he felt that Caring Crane was more of a place to sleep then anything else, and decided to leave.

                  The next two years were...at best, mediocre. Lawrence slept wherever, dirty or not, stole money from unsuspecting victims just for the fun of it, and smoked through multiple packs of cigarettes a day. That's when he walked into the local gang's neighborhood, and almost died. The gang had brought guns to the party, and he suffered two shots: One to the leg, and one to the arm. Luckily, the local free clinic got them out, and Lawrence didn't get an infection. The next time he and the gang met up, they struck a deal. He would sell their drugs and get half of the profit in exchange for not stepping into their territory ever again. Seeing as this would accumulate more income then he made from stealing from people, he accepted the proposal. Then, the card sharks came. They saw that Lawrence was hogging the money with his drugs. They didn't like that too much. He figured, wisely, that he could make sure people came to their bars and stands and, in exchange for such a service, they would protect him when he asked. They agreed. Lawrence is now deep into a dark, dark path, and he believes there is no light at the end of this path.

        Extra Tidbits:
                Although known as a tough guy, Lawrence has a surprising rapport with animals. His personal favorite animal is the dog, because, even though they live on the streets, they tend to be the friendliest.


      "I'm sick and I'm twisted, I'm broke, and you can't fix it."

Forgive me father,
xxxxxxxxxxxwhy should you bother
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxTry honesty, try honesty
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxRide in your dump truck, reverse for good luck

Lawrence Justin Spencer



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Lawrence Justin Spencer had not had the best of days. The card sharks, his new acquaintances, had decided as a test of his honesty they would beat him until he was bleeding and/or in pain. The black eye and the cuts on his white hands were proof of this. Second, his favorite street dog had been run over by an SUV. It had been a female, and it followed him around and kept him company. She had just had two pups. Mercifully, and rather out of place, Lawrence had placed them in the huge pockets of his black, torn trenchcoat and brought them home. Third, it was raining. Not only would this decrease the purchase of drugs today, it would stop it up for the next three days. The water would gather in the cracks of the alleys and on the sidewalks, and druggies generally avoided these places.

"Well, how will this day get any worse?" Lawrence asked himself. The two small, two week puppies cried back and he rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't asking you guys," Lawrence replied. "But now that you mention it, you guys are going to need to eat, aren't you?" Looking around, Lawrence spotted the only clean store on the street: The Pet Clinic. He entered it and looked around. It was sparsely inhabited, one vet and a secretary in the front.

"Hello, can I help you?" The secretary asked sweetly. Lawrence, hesitantly, walked up to the counter and pulled the puppies out of his pockets.

"I need to know how to take care of these guys." The woman's face blanched and she called the vet over who looked at the puppies and then continued to tell him what he needed. She told him that these puppies were very young, and they were very lucky to have survived separation from their mother. After another two minutes, she ran off to the back. Lawrence and the receptionist stood in silence for these two minutes. He could tell she was glancing at him every two minutes but, in that cute teenager way, trying to hide it. The vet came back and then gave him the instructions and the supplies. He then went on his way.

It didn't take long for Lawrence to reach his apartment, considering he was worried about the two dogs in his pockets. The teen walked up the four flights of stairs and entered the dirty hallway. He was greeted by two other eighteen year olds, a girl and a boy, who lived in the building. Lawrence wasn't generally friendly with anybody in the building except these two, but only because they had also been in the orphanage. Lawrence reached his door and pushed it open forcefully. The door's hinges were ancient, and he was too lazy to fix them. He placed the puppies on the single pillow he had, and then took off his trench coat, throwing it onto the torn up couch in front of the bed. Deciding to take a nap, Lawrence then moved the trench coat onto the end of the bed and laid down on the couch. He looked at the large clock that hung on the wall.

"I have two hours until the pups need feeding." He noted before closing his eyes, trying to let sleep overtake him.
Forgive me father,
xxxxxxxxxxxwhy should you bother
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxTry honesty, try honesty
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxRide in your dump truck, reverse for good luck

Lawrence Justin Spencer



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The teen on the couch had vaguely heard the sound of the pup's yips, he had interpreted them as the sounds of curious dogs. The two week old canines were mostly blind, and the barking was probably like a form of echolocation. When they yipped again, the teen had interpreted this as also a form of echolocation, and turned over. Although the couch was rather ancient, or so the landlord and landlady told him, it was apparent to Lawrence that the springs inside were in good condition. Feeling his spine melt into the cushion, he let out a sigh of contentment. Although life was not even close to being as satisfying as this couch, Lawrence could pretend that it was for a moment.

After another thirty minutes of sleeping, Lawrence roused. He was fully energized, and he felt the need to get up. His eyelids opened to reveal green irises. Lawrence rubbed his eyes as he moved his upper torso up. A sixth sense in him was going off like crazy, but Lawrence ignored it for now. Although his gut feelings about people behind him were always right, he noticed that the form had not taken any action when he woke up. Lawrence reached over to his trench coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a pack of matches. If he was going into this confrontation with whoever this person was, Lawrence was going to need them.

'Dear God I hope it's not some crazed junkie.' Lawrence thought. The teen turned around, unlit cigarette hanging out of his lips. He decided that he would not look until the roll of tobacco was lit. Lawrence struck the match, lit the cigarette, threw the match into the trash can, and then looked. In front of him was surely a hallucination. The orphan inhaled, then blew out some smoke. The blue hair was not the reason he thought he was hallucinating; females drug addicts dyed their hair the weirdest colors sometimes. It wasn't the slender form; everybody in this end of the world had a thin, if not muscular, form. It was the wings. There were three on each side meaning six all together. Lawrence felt his exhausted mind try to recall what that meant. Caring Crane had had large donations from a church not too far away, and, in gratitude, they let the church members try and teach the orphans all about God.

"There are many types of angels, children. For example, when an angel is very important, they have six wings, instead of two. Now, open your Bibles to Matthew 18:2-6..." A voice echoed in his head. Lawrence saw that the front of his cigarette was about to drop ash onto his carpet, and he moved over to the window next to the angel. He tapped the cigarette on the window sill and watched as the ash dropped down the four floors onto the wet pavement. He stood in silence for about three minutes, casually smoking the tobacco before throwing the stub into the street.

"You know, I thought Seraphs would have know that entering a house without permission was called 'breaking and entering'." Lawrence told, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Not waiting for a response he added:

"And although I do love when people come to visit," A lie. "Why the hell are you here?"
Forgive me father,
xxxxxxxxxxxwhy should you bother
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxTry honesty, try honesty
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxRide in your dump truck, reverse for good luck

Lawrence Justin Spencer



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Lawrence remained silent thorughout Evangeline's little speech. His jaw was clenched in a sign that he wasn't too pleased with what the angel said. The teen remained silent, his dark green eyes reflecting the pessimism in his mind. The pessimism was, in Lawrence's mind, merited seeing as the angel had the same look as the couple after couple. She'd been with him through it all? Through all the tears he privately cried in the corner? Every time he had been at wit's end trying to figure himself out? Her golden eyes kept looking at him, but Lawrence barely acknowledged them. He was seething. Lawrence gripped the wet window sill, his knuckles turning white.

"I'm your guardian angel, Lawrence. I've come to save you."

She told him to not leave. He peered out the window, but didn't see anybody. Did he have some question? His rage in his chest finally won it's way out.

"Yeah, I have a few." Lawrence tightened his grip on the window sill.

"You're really a monster aren't you? Because monsters watch as orphans get tortured by others, monsters watch orphans cry, monsters watch love slowly die in a heart, and monsters let life continue like that! According to you, you've just watched me do these things, and you didn't say anything! You didn't try to stop it! So why would I want your 'saving'?! Why would I want your 'help?!" Lawrence barked at her, all of his fury flying out. "Why would I want a mosnter to save me? In fact, why do I even need saving? I might not be in the best of life but I don't give a good goddamn!"

Lawrence stopped, letting go of the windowsill. He looked at the clock, picked the puppy off the monster's foot, and then set him down next to his brother. He pulled out the hot plate he had bought and plugged it in. Lawrence took the box and the bottles from his trench coat and then followed the instructions. Although he messed up the first bottle, he managed to make the second bottle without scalding himself. Lawrence hissed to himself. The hot milk had easily gone past the thin t-shirt and onto his chest. Not caring about the angel's presence, he threw off the t-shirt and picked up a white wife-beater from the floor. It didn't take long for the puppies to drain the bottle and fall asleep again. Lawrence had taken off the dirty pillow case and put it on top of the puppies as a make-shift blanket.

Lawrence knew the angel was still there but played the 'you-are-dead-to-me' game and continued on his daily business. Noticing that the large burn on his chest was turning a bright cherry red, he walked over to his bathroom, the only thing in his apartment that had it's own room, and dug through his drawer. Needles, condoms, Motrin, a hair ribbon, a picture of him and his 'sister' (A girl in the orphanage who had been his best friend), and, here it was! He pulled out the tube of burn cream. This cream had come in handy many times, seeing as fire was a favorite of gang members. The multiple burn marks that lined the back of his chest, along with various cuts and scars, were sign of this. Pulling off his shirt, he started to apply the cream, letting it's soothing effects heal his skin.
Forgive me father,
xxxxxxxxxxxwhy should you bother
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxTry honesty, try honesty
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxRide in your dump truck, reverse for good luck

Lawrence Justin Spencer



User Image
Lawrence faintly felt his legs be tousled by a person rushing into the building. Although he had very hazy vision, he rolled his eyes up and tried to focus on the person's features. It appeared to be the girl from under the slide, although he couldn't be all that sure. She bent down and Lawrence knew it was this 'Yoora' person, the black hair and dark amber eyes revealing her. He was going to answer her question but was halted by the fierce shaking of his shoulders. Lawrence could hear Evangeline protesting in the background, which brought a small smirk to his features before they contorted in pain again. The wound was seeping blood again. Lawrence bit his lip in pain, trying to distract himself. The teen finally built up enough strength to push the Yoora girl off and to mutter:

"Stop...goddamn...shaking me..." With that, Lawrence managed to push himself to his feet. They were unstable, like a baby deer's, and Lawrence had to lean against the wall to make sure he stood standing. The bandage was starting to soak in red liquid, to which Lawrence grunted at. He took one wobbly step forward towards the elevator, but fell against the wall. He muttered a few choice words and then attempted to go even farther. This resulted in him getting to the key pad and smearing the up button with his own blood. All of the effort he had exerted had somewhat exhausted him, which was natural in his state, which just made Lawrence frustrated. When the elevator doors opened, Lawrence stumbled in, Yoora, and, only he could see, Evangeline coming in after.

It only took a few seconds for Lawrence to get to his floor, and another few for him to push himself out of the elevator. He promptly fell to the floor once more, releasing another string of choice words. His body couldn't take much more with how much he was pushing it. Lawrence had tested its limits when he had gotten run over by an SUV two years ago. The orphan managed to get the few extra feet to his apartment, and then rested against the door. His consciousness was slowly fading. The effort needed to open the door seemed to be just on the tip of his fingers, but for some reason, he couldn't force it out of his body. He closed his eyes and groaned before letting sleep overtake him.

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