Post and I will hang you by your entrails. :B

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

Hei Ryung - The Snob
M a s q u e r a d e ! P a p e r f a c e s o n p a r a d e !

Hide your face so the world will never find youxxxxx

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We know when to k/i/s/s
And we know when to kill
If we can't have it ALL
Then n/o/b/o/d/y will. . .
I know when to [ [ t a l k ] ]
And I know when to TOUCH
And no one ever d/i/e/d from wanting too much. . .

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

Akihito Bae Mun

And I'm t e l l i n g you as fast as I can
I'm a trend, a trend
'Cause I don't b/r/e/a/k hearts
I just d e n t them

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And I'm as S E L F I S H as selfish comes
But you're giving me a run for my M O N E Y
HONEY

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

«x» ___ James Brewer ___ «x»

» b a s ii c s . o f . l ii f e «

→ a. k. a. ≠ Simba:: So help me God, if you ever call me this, I will maim you.

→ candles on a cake ≠ twenty-four

→ surprise day ≠ August 16th; just like a Leo, riight?

→ I am . . . ≠ I'm not picky. Men, women..I don't really care. If you think you can handle me, then you're welcome to try.

→ work, work, work ≠ Right now, I'm a mechanic. I guess, technically, I'm an army veteran as well. Neat, right?

» d ii g ii n g . d e e p e r «

→ image in the mirror ≠
Well, for starters..once you see me transformed, my normal appearance can often be noted to coincide rather nicely with the fact that I transform into a lion.

I stand at roughly six-foot-two; I'm pretty tall even by most standards. When I hit puberty, my entire body shape was pretty quickly changed. I am broad-shouldered, and thin hipped; I gues my torso is kind of triangle-shaped? Thanks to years of heavy lifting, working under cars, and military training, my body is nothing more than an expanse of lean muscle. At last check, I weighed about 195lbs, and the vast majority of it was muscle. I take great pride with keeping my muscle tone, too; if you ever want to sweat off about fifteen pounds, you should try keeping up with one of my daily workouts. At the same time, even though I am pretty ripped, I'm laid back. My mother used to tell me to sit up straight, and all of that stuff, until she eventually gave up. So my way of carrying myself is, overall, very relaxed.

I have..eh..Well, to get right to the point, I'm good-looking. There's no other way to slice that. I got my dad's jawline and bright aqua eyes, and some of my mom's slimmer features as well. I've never seen anyone with an eye color quite like mine; not even Liz's blue eyes come close to the aqua color of mine. If you look closely, the color in my right eye seems diluted somehow, not as sharp as the color in my left. Most people don't notice that though. One of my friends said I had a 'dependable' face, whatever that means. My hair is chestnut brown, wavy, and not that remarkable. When I came back home, that time when I took my sister away from that hellhole, My hair was still extremely short, thanks to that buzzcut I got semi-frequently. It grew out fast though, and now it's around my shoulders, and layered a bit. Looks good if I do say so myself.

Now then, what else is there? Oh..clothes, I guess?

I'm not big on 'fashion', to be perfectly honest. I like getting down and dirty most of the time, so wearing expensive clothes is absolutely pointless. I still like wearing BDU pants, because they're damn comfortable and they have a lot of pockets. It isn't rare to find me coming back from working on a car, wearing a tank top and camo pants. For the most part, I'm a jean and t-shirt sort of person. If I need to wear a shirt that buttons up, I'll wear it open over a t-shirt. Yeah..I'm a pretty basic sort of person. I like wearing combat boots..I used to prefer sneakers, but now they just aren't comfortable enough for me. To see me wearing a suit is a very, very rare thing. I'm just not a formal sort of person; I prefer casual, comfortable clothing. Dressing up feels like I'm being fake for someone else's benefit.

A few last things. For starters, I have my left ear pierced. Why? Good question. I don't take that earring out under any circumstance though, even though I'm not much of a jewelry person. I also have a couple of tattoos. The one that most people see prominently is a knife, stretching from the ball of my shoulder down the side of my left arm. In lettering stretched over the hilt of the knife, it says 'Semper Fi'. I also have a quote, tattooed on the right side of my chest, just over my heart..this particular tattoo states "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger." Weird, I know, but it's something I felt like doing. Like I said, most people will spot the tattoo on my arm at least once if they see me more than once in their lives, but since I have to actually have my shirt off for you to see the other tattoo, most don't know it's there.

→ sides of me ≠ James takes pride in being a big brother to people. His easy-going personality makes him easy to get along with, but he has never been able to stay in one place long enough to make lasting friendships. However, he is loyal to his friends above all else, and if you hurt someone he cares about..you'd be wise to watch your back.

James is a really laid-back person. He doesn't get up in arms about much of anything, and he doesn't tend to stress the little things. It's hard to be uptight around him, because he simply doesn't give you a reason to be uptight. He's also rather friendly; he'd ask a complete stranger their life story. Some people don't like him, and that's life. However, for the most part, he's just so..at ease, no matter who the person is. It makes him rather refreshing company. There's nothing out of the ordinary with how he acts, or what he talks about. He acts like a normal guy, because that's what he is. Cars, music, and flirting with girls makes up the majority of what he talks about. It's never particularly unique conversation, but that doesn't usually matter. It's pretty easy for him to make friends, but he tends to forget them if he doesn't speak to them for a while.

If you can make friends with James, he is a friend you want to keep. He's stubbornly loyal to the people he cares about, and he will never betray them. He wants nothing more than to protect the people he cares about, and that's what he'll do. He can border on overprotective at times, but he just hates seeing people get hurt. He is especially overprotective when it comes to his younger sister, Liz. She is his reason for living. It is something that one must remember, as to hurt his sister is to ask for him to break your nose.

James does, admittedly, have a bit of an attitude problem. He's got a mile-wide stubborn streak, and he's not afraid to use vulgar language in the presence of all but the youngest children. To get on his bad side means that he will probably entice you into a fight whenever possible. If he doesn't like someone, he will prod at them, be obnoxious, anything to try to make them throw the first punch. He won't back off and pretend they did it for no reason. He is honorable, after all..well..to an extent. He has no qualms with suggesting that someone "go to hell", or "go ******** themselves", so it's always a good idea to watch for his foul mouth. However, he has a code of honor that he tries to adhere to to above all else.

Something to note about him is his short temper. For the most part, James is an extremely patient person. However, there are things that will make him snap. If you are cruel to his sister, if you insult him to a point beyond forgiveness...well, one must remember that James is a military man. He is a strong man, and he tries to use that strength for the benefit of others, but..you really don't want to get in a fight with a an with the strength of a lion. He is well aware of the fact that he's strong too, and his pride in that fact borders on arrogance. No, actually, it is arrogant.

→ retell the tale ≠ Where do I start? My life wasn't that extraordinary for a long time..save for the curse.

Marie and Connor Brewer were a young couple, still getting used to their life together. Mom was a chef, working at some restaurant, dreaming of owning her own. Dad was a mechanic who had just managed to open his own little shop. They were in love though, and that was something that helped them raise me.

It was an unusually hot day in August when I was born. The moment my mother held me in her arms, I transformed in a plume of smoke. What she held then was a small cub, whose eyes weren't even open yet. It was something she didn't understand. However, what could she do but love her own child, even if he was a freak of nature? I was their child after all. Even if my parents didn't know why I transformed into a lion cub whenever my mother hugged me, they both loved me. Dad had me in the garage with him, learning what was what with cars when I was still toddling around in diapers. And when I wasn't in the garage with dad, I was with mom in the kitchen, helping her in whatever way I could while she cooked.

They let me grow up fast, which is why I took it well when my parents told me I was going to have a little brother or sister. I was excited. A sibling! Someone I could look out for. I was only six years old, but Dad told me that it was my duty to protect my younger sibling. I still hold to that.

The moment Mom introduced me to my baby sister, Elizabeth, my world revolved around her. I wanted to take care of her in whatever way I could. And as we grew up, I did. I protected her from bullies, I shared everything I had with her, and I pretty much spoiled her rotten in whatever way i could. Even if I couldn't hug her and show affection like most siblings could, I took care of her. I protected her from everything, just like I promised Dad.

At least, I tried to.

When I was sixteen, and Liz was ten, there was a fire at the shop. Dad managed to help everyone else get out of the building, but..he wasn't so lucky. And then, all at once, mom had to raise us by herself. And all at once, that strength in her that had been so prevalent when my sister and I were young was gone. She lost part of herself when Dad died, and I don't think she ever got that part back. Less than a year later, she had met and married Andrew Howell. He seemed like an all right fellow at the time; he was a defense attorney, and Mom seemed pretty happy with him there, though she was slowly starting to slip into a bad habit. Alcohol. Mom drank pretty frequently, but she seemed to be okay there for a while. When I told her that I was considering enlisting in the military when I graduated highschool, she said she was proud of me. And so, with her blessing, I shipped off to Basic Training for the Marine Corps shortly after I graduated from high school.

I didn't come home for quite a while after that. Liz sent me letters frequently for a while, telling me about what was going on at home and at school. But..after a while, those letters got less frequent, and I started getting worried. Sure, I didn't imagine that Liz was leaving important pieces about how..disturbing, home life was becoming. Shortly before my twenty-third birthday, I got one last letter from my sister. It was short, but she begged me to come home; she said that she couldn't handle Mom's drinking anymore...but I somehow knew that there was more than that.. And that, more than anything else, was what made me worry the most. It got to the point where my concern was affecting my duties, although my record was still exemplary. So, I received an honorable discharge. As soon as I was packed up, I went home.

When I got there, I found out from Liz what exactly had been happening. Mom's drinking had gotten worse, even though she constantly insisted that she was going to stop. And, as I had feared, it had been worse. Something had changed my sister in a very disturbing way, and I eventually got the whole truth out of her. Shortly after she'd turned fourteen, Andrew had started molesting her, until it eventually lead up to rape. That was all I needed to hear; I didn't need the details of what sort of trauma she'd gone through. The moment she told me what that b*****d had been doing, I snapped. I told Liz to start packing her stuff, and I went downstairs to confront my mom before he got home. I remember shouting at her, demanding to know why she hadn't done anything, why she hadn't put protecting her own ******** daughter above everything else. That stupid woman who had loved Liz and me when we were small was gone, lost in the bottles of booze. She tried to tell me that of course she cared, but she wasn't going to do -anything- about that a*****e.

I told her that as soon as -I- dealt with Andrew, that I was leaving, and that I was taking Liz with me. I wanted her to be safe. I think Mom understood that too, because she never tried to stop me. Maybe she knew that there was no stopping me; if she touched me, tried to pull me away, then she'd make me to transform. And then, there would be -nothing- preventing me from tearing that b*****d to pieces..literally.

My stepfather had barely gotten in the front door when I got my first punch in. By the time I was done, I had broken my knuckle on his jaw, and I was having trouble seeing out of my right eye. That was all the injury I suffered, though. I'd broken his nose, bruised a few ribs, and I guarantee you that I had knocked out a few of his teeth. Before he could spit out the blood and threaten me, Liz told me that she had something that, if he tried to so much as touch me or her again, she would use to ruin him for life. She had video taped one of those..incidents. Why?

Maybe she knew that I would rip Andrew Howell a new one, and she wanted something to justify my rage. And that was that. I said goodbye to my sobbing mother, and Liz and I walked out the door. And neither my mother or my stepfather tried to stop us. I had enough money to get us an apartment, and I found a job at a garage, fixing cars while my sister went to school. And all the while, I had to live with the guilt of knowing that what my sister was now, was my fault. If I hadn't left her alone, then she wouldn't be the way she was now. So distrustful, so screwed up inside. It took all I had to keep her from going to a place I couldn't reach. I tried though. I kept her safe, I tried to keep her happy, until..

A few months after I had turned twenty-four, I was approached by someone who knew about the curse. I was invited to Japan, to attend a 'banquet', to meet other people who were cursed as I was. Liz was fascinated with Japan, so I agreed. She could speak Japanese where I could not, so if I had had any doubts about taking her with me, that simple fact changed that.

Not that I could ever leave her again.

→ don’t tell a soul ≠
The curse, obviously.
I don't tell anyone about what happened to Liz. It was my fault that I couldn't protect her, and I am constantly tormented by remembering that fact.
I'm blind in my right eye. I took one hit too many to the side of my face, I guess. You can't really tell, and for the most part, I have no problems. My depth perception is off though.

» p e r s o n a l . ii n f o r m a t ii o n «

→ i love ≠ Mechanics
Meat
Cooking
Liz
Cats
Going to the zoo
Cute Girls
High Places
Big cities
Fixing things
Cars

→ get away ≠ Vegetables
Assholes
Perverts
My Parents
Idiots

→ shaking in my boots ≠
Letting something happen to Liz again.
Water.
Guns.
Losing someone important.
Not mattering to anyone.

→ getting power ≠ Repairing things.
Cooking

Brave
Protective
Affectionate

→ weak at the knees ≠
Pretty Faces
Smart and/or shy girls

Short-tempered
Overprotective when it comes to Liz
Violent
Arrogant

→ dance to the music ≠
Leave out all the Rest -- -- Linkin Park
Swing Life Away -- -- Rise Against
Free Bird -- -- Lynyrd Skynyrd

→ be an oracle ≠ I'm sorry Liz. If I had been stronger, nothing ever would have happened to you.
"Semper Fidelis."

» c u r s e d . f o r . l ii f e «

→ are there any animals in here ≠ I'm the Leo, which makes me a..-gasp- Lion! Funny how that works, isn't it?

→ fur, spots, stripes ≠ What do you need to know? I'm a fully grown lion when I'm transformed. I am up to the average man's chest if not a bit shorter, and I have a full mane, which is, of course, the same brown as my hair. The rest of my body is covered in golden-brown hair, save for the tuft of chestnut brown at the end of my long tail. I'm definitely not small; like the king of the beasts, my body is an expanse of lean, powerful muscles. I have large paws, long teeth, and...yeah, I promise, I don't eat people. Unless they call me Simba. Seriously, dude, that gets old after a while.

» t h e . b ii g . m a n «

→ behind the mask ≠ C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n

→ skittles, taste the rainbow ≠ You were F R E E Z I N G, I was W A R M E R

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

«x» ___ Akemi Sohma ___ «x»

» b a s ii c s . o f . l ii f e «

→ a. k. a. ≠ Jude:: It's a nickname I picked up thanks to liking the Beatles. I never really got it fully, but I prefer it over my name.

→ candles on a cake ≠ twenty-one

→ surprise day ≠ October 18th

→ I am . . . ≠ I may as well say Bisexual; I prefer women, but I can't say that I couldn't be swayed towards another man. Have to be one hell of a man though..

→ work, work, work ≠ I'm an aspiring musician, oddly enough. For right now, I work as a waiter at the same restaurant Layla works at.

» d ii g ii n g . d e e p e r «

→ image in the mirror ≠ Well, I inherited my 'unusual' looks from the Sohma family. We're all pretty well-known for being attractive, and I'm no different. You may be surprised what animal I am. Nothing about my appearance seems 'delicate' as you might think for a rabbit. I don't have very cute facial features, and I'm definitely not a small individual.

I have a fairly slim face, with a slender jawline and an elegant nose and mouth. I suppose you might be able to call me 'pretty', but I prefer less feminine words. After all, I am undoubtedly male. I have black hair, like any stereotypical Asian would, and I wear it long. It's cut straight, a bit past my collarbone; Layla likes playing with my hair, as it's rather silky and soft. I don't usually pull it back unless I'm working; they don't really like me having it down at work. I can't pull my own hair up though, so Layla tends to have to do it for me. My hair may seem a bit strange to you, but it's nothing compared to my eyes. I was born with eyes that are an intense blue in color; neither of my parents had a set of eyes quite like mine, so we're not sure where they came from.

I'm not a slender individual. At last check, I was six-foot-two. That's about 188cm, I think? Yeah..I'm rather ridiculously tall. I weigh a good 185lbs, so I'm pretty evenly proportioned. I will admit that I do enjoy exercise, so I'm a fairly toned individual. I'm definitely not the most muscular of men, but I'm nice enough to look at with my shirt off..at least, that's what Lucy and Janie used to say. I have long limbs; my legs, in particular, make up a lot of my height. Guess that's the rabbit in me. I'm pretty broad-shouldered, though not as much as others. I have a nice body overall, I guess...

Okay, when it comes to clothing..I rather like suits. It's weird, but I do. I've never been much of a t-shirt kind of person. I do love jeans, but I have to wear a nice button-up shirt with them. My favorite shirt color is black, though I'll wear a different color shirt if I have a black suit jacket. I guess that would be more accurate; I like blazers. I hate wearing ties though, so don't try to make me wear one. Actually, I don't even know how to tie a tie; when I went for an interview at the restaurant, Layla had to tie it for me. I have a big love of jewelry too. Crosses, in particular, are something I usually enjoy wearing around my neck. Am I religious? Definitely not; I just like the way they look. Lucy used to say that I tried to look the part of a rockstar. She thought it worked for me though, so..I guess that's it. I'm channeling my inner rockstar. I like the 'visual kei' style in Japan, but it's too complicated for me sometimes. So, nice shirts and jeans, and I'm happy.

→ sides of me ≠ "The rabbit is one of the most delicate animals among all 12 animals. Rabbits are usually kind and sweet and of course, popular people."

..Pfft. That's hilarious. Anyone who tells you that -I- am 'kind and sweet and delicate' is probably high. Well, Layla might tell you I'm kind, but...she's one of the lucky few who gets to know that. For the most part, I like playing the part of a badass to society. Lucy used to say that I was all talk. Maybe she was right.

I'm not known for my patience, which may be odd to you. I'm pretty short tempered, although I'm prone to just seething quietly. I can be a rude jerk if you piss me off though. Most people see me as being apathetic about most everything, and, that's mostly true. There are certain things that I do care about, but, for the most part, I really don't give a s**t. I won't say that people's problems don't mean jack to me; the first time I saw Layla after her fiance left her, I think my heart just about broke. But, I prefer trying to keep people at arm's length, to avoid making their problems my own. Am I a bleeding heart? Yeah, I guess, but I'd never admit it. I enjoy my status as a 'jerk'. It makes people leave me alone. I'm not as much of a social butterfly as people might thing. I like talking to people, interacting with them, but people never seem to be able to realize when I just want to be left alone. And when people bother me when I want to be alone..well, that's when I get grouchy. I can be mature when I want to be. I can be very, very mature when I want to be. I can be calm, I can be 'polite'..it just isn't as interesting. I can also be pretty shrewd when the mood strikes me. I can be quite the businessman too. I'm a very persuasive creature by nature; it's not hard to convince others to see my way of thinking.

When the mood strikes me, I'm pretty playful. I love teasing, especially when it comes to teasing girls. I'm a bit of a flirt sometimes too, although it's generally innocent. It's hard to flat out hit on anyone when you know that you'll transform if they get too close to you. I'm a sucker for pretty faces, and I love flattering women. It's fun to make them blush. I can even make Layla blush, even though she's more like my sister than anyone I could be romantically interested in. It's just one of those reflexive things. I think it's something I do when I'm around shy girls. I enjoy seeing people's reactions to the way I act. Keeping people guessing is one of those things I enjoy, as is surprising people. No one knows anything about me, and that's something I rely on to make life more interesting.

Now then. What do the people who know me really well, the people I care about..what's the side they get to see? Well, I'm a nice guy, deep down. A little rough around the edges, but my friends say I have a good heart. I'm protective; if you hurt someone I care about, then I'll hurt you back. I've seen what happens when people don't care about the people who are important to them. I've seen enough unhappy faces, seen enough tears to want to help. I'm a bleeding heart; I really am. Sometimes, I can't help but try to assist other people. Maybe it's easy to take advantage of me. I don't really know. I'm a sucker for crying faces, and for sob stories. It's just..the way I am, I guess. However, I also know that it's very easy for me to hurt people, even the ones I care about, so that's just one more reason I try to keep others at arms length.

→ retell the tale ≠
What do you want to know? I was born, my parents hated me, and I ran away and met Laylawe don't know where it c. That's pretty much it.

...Oh, all right! Sheesh, I'll give you some more details.

Mom and dad were both doctors. It worked for them, I guess. I think they'd been married for a few years when mom became pregnant. They were both happy though. It was all obsessive decorating, planning, and putting headphones that played Bach on my mom's belly. Y'know, all of that stupid s**t. When I was born, two months early, my mom was horrified to discover that, upon hugging me, I would transform into a rabbit. This repulsed her, and my father. However, I think the nurse guilted them into keeping me. After all, I was 'special.' So, they did. My parents didn't justabandon me; they kept me. And I had to live with their hate. Well..with mom's hate. After a few years, Dad decided that it was too hard to hate his own flesh and blood. So, he paid attention to me. He gave me that affection I was so starved for, even though he probably still thought I was a freak.

He got into arguments with mom about it, too. And then, one day, he couldn't take any more. So he left, and we never saw him again. Mom insisted that it was -my- fault. MY fault that her husband had left her with a freak of a son, even though she was the one who had pushed him away. I was six years old.

A couple of years later, Mom moved us to the states. She got a better job offer down there. She worked long hours, and I was left to my own devices. However, for all of that, I still made some pretty good friends. Lucy, Jimmy, and Janie became three of my best friends in the entire world. We looked out for each other. I guess they all had their own family problems; that was what brought us together. As we got older, we became the neighborhood delinquents. It was all innocent fun for us, but we got in trouble a lot. It only made mom even angrier about me and my existence.

When I was fifteen, Jimmy's older brother took us to see a concert. It was some relatively new band that Janie was way into. Denial, or something like that. She completely idolized the lead singer. I guess, looking back on it, I can kind of see why she thought Samantha Brewer was the kind of stuff legends were made of. I can remember looking at that stage, watching her, watching the way she could look so aggressive, yet so innocent. It was brilliant, and I figured that that band was going to make it big with that woman in the lead. They never did though.

As I got a little older, I got more rebellious, day by day. And as that happened, mom started pushing harder at me, getting angrier. She wanted to be happy, didn't want me in the picture. I finally realized this when I met her new boyfriend for the first time in my life. I was almost eighteen.

That very same night, I ran away. That very same night, I crashed headfirst into Samantha Brewer.

That night, I met the first woman I had ever managed to 'hug' without resulting in a transformation on my part. It was something I..didn't expect. Apparently, she didn't expect it either. The two of us shared our stories, until her boyfriend Jacob came looking for her. We kept in touch though. It was purely friendly, and I don't think her boyfriend was ever jealous. I started crashing with Lucy and her dad, until the latter got a job offer from Florida. When that happened, I was once again homeless.

In some morbid, cruel twist of fate, I once again ran across Samantha. She was different somehow. She wasn't that woman I had seen on stage; it was like it was taking every ounce of willpower she had for her to hold herself together. I hadn't talked to her for..jeez, about six months, I guess. But she remembered me. I went with her, back to her apartment. Maybe she figured it would be safe, since I was someone so very similar to her. She trusted me enough to break down in front of me. It was something that absolutely wrenched my heart. I don't really know why, but I stayed with her. I stayed with her until she calmed down, until she told me what had happened. She told me about Claire, her child, her own little miracle who had been stillborn..taken away from her before she could ever meet her. She told me about how Jacob left her alone, how he didn't know -how- to deal with how traumatized she was.

I don't think I'd ever actually hugged a girl close to me until then, and I doubt I will ever hug a girl for that long ever again. And, when all was said and done, I started living with her. I started calling her Layla, and I did my damndest to help her get her life back together. It's hard work, but she's healing. She takes care of me, like an older sister would, and I protect her like a brother would.

One day, someone came to her at the restaurant where she worked, talking about the curse. She was invited to a banquet..something that I was vaguely familiar with. I was invited to come back and live at the Estates, so..we went.

Maybe it'll be a good thing. Maybe it won't. We'll just have to see.

→ don’t tell a soul ≠
No one knows that I ran away, or where my mother is now. I don't really care. Layla takes care of me.
I don't tell anything about her, either, and her problems aren't anyone's business. Am I in love with her? Is that why I'm so protective? Of course not; she's like my big sister. I want her to be happy.

» p e r s o n a l . ii n f o r m a t ii o n «

→ i love ≠
Music
Lettuce
Fast food
Blazers
Layla
Hanging with friends
Cooking
Cell phones
Pretty faces
Arguing

→ get away ≠ Dogs
Rain
Cold weather
Hunting
Red meat
Dogs
Sweets
Pickles
My mom

→ shaking in my boots ≠
Not protecting someone I care about.
Problems I can't fix.
Guns
Bear traps
Lightning
Dogs

→ getting power ≠ Playing the guitar

Strong-willed
Protective
Good friend

→ weak at the knees ≠
Tears
Sad stories
Pretty faces

Stubborn
Short-tempered
Rude

→ dance to the music ≠
Andrew Bird -- -- Fake Palindromes
Brand New -- -- The Boy who Blocked his own Shot
Relient K -- -- Who I am Hates who I've Been

→ be an oracle ≠ "So, this is growing up? Not sure I like it.."

» c u r s e d . f o r . l ii f e «

→ are there any animals in here ≠ I'm a rabbit. I know, it's pretty stupid.

→ fur, spots, stripes ≠ Whaddya wanna know? I'm some kind of dwarf rabbit or something. I'm black, and I'm small. I've got pretty big ears though, and Layla says I'm 'positively adorable' like this. I'm pretty jumpy(no pun intended..seriously.), and..my nose twitches a lot. Yes, I know It's cute. I know I'm cute in general actually. No, you're not allowed to pet me, or snuggle me, or any of that other s**t.

» t h e . b ii g . m a n «

→ behind the mask ≠ C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n

→ skittles, taste the rainbow ≠ Hello there, A N G E L from my N I G H T M A R E...

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

«x» ___ Elizabeth Brewer ___ «x»

» b a s ii c s . o f . l ii f e «

→ a. k. a. ≠ Leja:: It's what I go by. Why? Because I like the way it sounds. James doesn't really like it, but my reasoning is..it's an easy enough way to say I'm shortening my name, and that way, he's the only one who uses his nickname for me.
Liz:: Growing up, my parents and James called me this. Now, James is the only one who gets to call me Liz.

Mom used to call me Lizzie, after she'd started drinking. I -hate- that nickname..

→ candles on a cake ≠ Eighteen

→ surprise day ≠ February 13th

→ I am . . . ≠ I'm annoyed by boys, I hate men(except for James), I'm jealous of girls, and I'm afraid of women. Work out what you will. ..Can't keep up? Sigh. I guess I'm bisexual...or I would be if I could ever trust anyone.

→ work, work, work ≠ James is making me go back to school. Beyond that, he also found me a job working in a flower shop.

» d ii g ii n g . d e e p e r «

→ image in the mirror ≠ Ah..uhm..I'm not sure how to describe myself! I look..well, I'm obviously a woman, for starters. I'm very curvaceous, which is something I hate. I wish I looked like a board, but I don't. My height is about five foot four, and I weigh..oh, um..that's not any of your business. My exact measurements, besides my height, aren't your business either, actually. I look older than I actually am, though you can still kind of tell that I'm a teenager. And even if I wish I were built like a board, I tend to flaunt my body in the way I dress. My mind is completely ********, so you shouldn't be surprised. But we'll get to that later.

James says that I look like our mom, before she started going gray before her time. He said that she had hair the same color as mine was...From the time I was born, I had white-blond hair. It was really easy to dye, thanks to how light the color is. Around the time I was fourteen, I decided that I would really like pink hair. So I dyed it, and I -still- dye it to this day. My hair has managed to grow out to my waist, and it's really annoying to take care of..but I can't bring myself to cut it just yet. My eyes...ehh, my eyes are blue. They're a kind of baby blue, and I don't think I got them from either of my parents. Maybe my grandmother? I wish I had James' eye color. Anyways! I've got a pretty slim face, with high cheekbones and a slender nose. Even my lips are thin..my face shape just makes my eyes looks bigger.

When it comes to clothing, I'm kind of..um. Jeez, it's hard to describe. I tend to wear bright, crayon-colors, and I layer stuff a lot. At the same time, I can manage to wear a lot of low-cut things. Sometimes I'll wear ruffled petticoats, leggings, and corsets. I have a bit of an obsession with cute shoes..it's something I tend to indulge a bit too much. Even though people make me uncomfortable, I enjoy making others do a double-take when they see me. I want..I want people to see me as something they want, just so I can shoot them down. When I'm not wearing crazy bright colors, I like wearing fluffy legwarmers and armwarmers, and casual clothes. My clothing is always rather feminine though, unless I've stolen one of James' shirts. One last thing about my clothes..I have a bit of an obsession with underwear. I can't resist buying cute bras and panties, and my underwear tends to get rather skimpy. I have boyshorts so I can sleep in that and a tank top. Pajamas are not my thing.

You'd think I'd want to cover myself up, hide away, and if I weren't so screwed up, i probably would. Alas.

→ sides of me ≠ What is there to say? I'm really, seriously, ********.

Most people tend to notice that I'm relatively friendly. I like talking to people, and I like being nice..as long as people don't touch me. Touching is something I am absolutely terrified. As such, I still hide behind my brother like a frightened little girl. Am I shy? I guess so. James told me once that his job as my big brother was to protect me, and maybe I take advantage of that. ..No, that isn't possible. Um..lets see, what else...I tend to have to second-guess myself, if you haven't figured that out yet. If I don't think back over what I say before I say it, I'm afraid I'll say something that I'll regret later. It's just..one of those things.

I don't have many friends, but I like to think that I'd be a loyal friend. I'm a bit neurotic, and I'm always afraid of pushing people away, but..I'm loyal. I'm terrified that people will leave me, so I tend to get clingy. If I think people are even the tiniest bit upset with me, I'm very easily reduced to tears. I hate having people angry with me. I'm very eager to please; it's something that's been true since I was very young. It's harder, now that I'm older, to live with myself when I do what people want. James says that's not my fault; he blames the old man for everything. But I don't think it was all him. I think it was me too..maybe it was my clingy, oversensitive nature.. But I can't change. I just..can't. I want people to fawn over me, but I don't want to get close to anyone.

A lot of the times, if I don't get my way, I will go into screaming fits. I'm still like a bratty child in many ways. James shelters me, but that doesn't mean I'm not rough around the edges. I automatically expect the worst of people. Do I trust easily? Certainly not. It's really hard to earn my trust. You have to be practically perfect, and lets face it. I'm not sweet or pretty or innocent enough for anyone to trouble themselves -that- much over, and I won't fool myself into thinking I am. I'm really protective of James, to the point that I have probably scared off potential girlfriends before they even have a chance to learn about the curse. James loves me best, after all. He always chooses me over them. Am I overprotective of him, like he is of me? Obviously.

I wish I could fix myself, but I don't even know where to start.

→ retell the tale ≠ Hmph. I hope you realize how lucky you are, getting me to tell you about this...

When I was born, my mother and father were ecstatic when Daddy finally held me. Sure, Mom loved James..they both did. But here! Here was a child, a girl that they could both hug and spoil to their heart's content. By this point in time, Mom had finally managed to get a loan and start her own restaurant, and it was going pretty well. Dad's business was flourishing too, so they were well prepared to raise me. I got a lot of affection from my parents, but James was always there in the background, hovering, wanting to hug me but never being able to. He never has hugged me...but I'm getting ahead of myself.

My childhood was normal enough. I had parents who loved me, I had an older brother who protected me like all good brothers should. I was really close to James, even as a child. Daddy told me that I couldn't hug him, but, when I was six, they let me find out why. I wasn't afraid of my brother, who's transformed self was reflecting his growth spurts. I've never been afraid of that form. James was my brother after all, and some silly 'curse' didn't change that at all! For the first decade of my life, I was happy.

Then it started to turn upside down.

When I was ten, there was a fire at Daddy's garage. He lost his own life trying to make sure that everyone else in the garage managed to get out safely. It broke Mom's heart. I think it hurt James a lot too, though he didn't show it; how could it not hurt him? He'd just turned sixteen, and now he was the man of the house. He took care of us, kept Mom going until she met Andrew.

Andrew. My stepfather. That horrible Devil-man who contributed significantly to making me the mess I am today.

Mom married him, and he was nice for a while. He wasn't our dad, of course, and he didn't try to fool himself into thinking he was. But Mom was happy with him..although, getting married again didn't make her stop her drinking. When James decided that he wanted to join the Marines, Mom gave him her blessing. Maybe she wasn't sober at the time; I'll never know. But, a few months after James graduated high school, he left. And I was alone.

I wrote to him a lot for a while. I told him about how Mom was doing, how Andrew was trying to get her to stop drinking. I appreciated that about him. But she never stopped. Maybe it was stress, stress from the fact that her baby boy was far away and he could be killed, and she couldn't do anything about it. She started drinking more and more, and eventually, my stepfather gave up. That was when he showed his true colors. He was only interested in my mother for sex, and when he couldn't get that from her because of her constant drinking, he turned to me.

I was fourteen when that man started molesting me. It was something I never, ever told my mom about. I wanted to write to James about what was happening, to try and see if he would come home, but I was always too afraid to. What if he hated me for not being strong enough to stop it? However, I could only take so much. Shortly after I turned seventeen, when I had finally had more than my mind could possibly bear, I snapped. I hid a video camera and taped everything that demon did, and when I was left just a little more broken than I had been the time before, I wrote to James. I poured out what fears I could in words. I begged him to come home, pleaded, told him that I couldn't take Mom and Andrew anymore. Some things were better left said in person...but I must have worried him enough.

A few weeks later, my older brother, my protector as a child, came home. Andrew was at work, and I didn't really care about where mom was at the time. James hadn't told them that he was coming home; he had just appeared like my savior, as always. I couldn't help it; I poured out my soul, told him what had been happening, told him I was sorry for not being strong enough. I think that was the first time I'd cried since Daddy had died. I wanted to be that scared little girl that I could always be when my brother was around to protect me. I was afraid though, afraid that he was going to be angry with me for not putting up a fight, for not going to Mom and begging her to put a stop to it. And he was angry. I can remember his voice shaking as he told me to go upstairs and start packing up my stuff. I can remember his voice, shouting at our mother, the woman who had so tenderly raised us when we were children. I remember hearing her tell him that he was leaving as soon as he dealt with our stepfather, and that he was taking me with him.

When I heard the door open and James start shouting again, this time at Andrew, I was afraid to go downstairs. It wasn't until I heard glass breaking and my mother screaming that I finally went down there. Honestly, our stepfather should have known better than to pick a fight with James. I remember seeing my brother's hand, angry looking at the knuckle that he'd broken, and the way he wouldn't open one of his eyes. And when Andrew got his bearings, to try and threaten my brother for assault or whatever, I provided threats of my own. I told him and my mother about that little video tape I'd made. I told that wicked, wicked man that if he so much as thought about touching James or me again, that I would destroy him. And I would have.

With that, James and I left that house, our mother's screaming, hysterical voice in our ears.

James got us an apartment, found a job, and sent me back to school. And he tried to make life as normal as possible for the both of us..but it was hard. Now that I was away from that place, surrounded by strangers at a new school, living with the one person I could be myself around, I -was- myself. I was broken, ruined by my experiences. I didn't trust anyone, I went into hysterics when anyone besides James tried to touch me, and..all the while, I wanted to present myself as something sexy and untouchable, just to make the people around me suffer. After all, I had my knight in shining armor, and he would always protect me. I took -advantage- of that fact. Was it revenge against James for leaving me alone for so long? Absolutely not; I loved my brother. But I expected what he did; he tried to keep me happy, tried to keep me safe. That was why I loved him best.

One day, a person came to James, speaking of the curse. My brother was invited to attend a banquet in Japan. He accepted, and he wanted me to go with him. Were we going to stay in Japan? That would be exciting. James couldn't speak Japanese, so I tried to help him.

And now, here we are in a new place..and I think my brother will make the most of it.
It's just..too bad that I can't do the same.

→ don’t tell a soul ≠
Secrets? My entire past is a secret. James keeps me safe and he doesn't tell anyone, and that's all I need.
..I think that I love James more than I should, as his younger sister. But he's the only person who's ever -really- cared about me. I don't want anyone to ever take him away from me..
I used to love writing, but now..I just can't find any inspiration...

» p e r s o n a l . ii n f o r m a t ii o n «

→ i love ≠
Tomatoes
Ancient History
Museums
Rain
Boats
Swingsets
Children
Stuffed animals
Chocolate

→ get away ≠
Men
Women
The Old Man
Red meat
Needles
Doctors
People who can't keep secrets

→ shaking in my boots ≠
James leaving me..
Being touched - At this point, if a guy touches me on the shoulder to get my attention, I will flip out. Girls, I'm a bit less freaked out by.
Men
Spiders
Blood
Flying
Drowning
Small spaces

→ getting power ≠
Writing
Flower arranging

Empathetic
Kind

→ weak at the knees ≠
James
Kind people...

Overemotional
Paranoid
Childish

→ dance to the music ≠ Aha! - Imogen Heap
Girls that Glitter Love the Dark - Hannah Fury
Ave Mary A - P!nk

→ be an oracle ≠ The butterfly is a flying flower, the flower a tethered butterfly.

» c u r s e d . f o r . l ii f e «

→ are there any animals in here ≠ n/a

→ fur, spots, stripes ≠n/a

» t h e . b ii g . m a n «

→ behind the mask ≠ C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n

→ skittles, taste the rainbow ≠ And I'm BEGGING you to be my ESCAPE...

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

T h e y w o n 't r e g r e t y o u . . .
GLITTER COVERS ALL THE UGLINESS
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx . . . A n d i f t h e y d o ?


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This s/u/g/a/r/c/a/n/e
This lemonade
This hurricane, I'm not afraid.
Cmon cmon no one can see me [ [ c r y ] ]

Charades, pop skill
Water hyacinth, named by a poet.
Imitation of life
N O O N E C A N S E E Y O U C R Y

This lightning s t o r m
This /t/i/d/a/l wave
This avalanche, I'm not afraid.
Cmon cmon no one can see me c/r/y

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

«x» ___ Shouhei Sohma ___ «x»

» b a s ii c s . o f . l ii f e «

→ a. k. a. ≠ Shou: Perhaps, if you're unfortunate, you will be close enough to me to call me Shou. Most people are luckier than that.

→ candles on a cake ≠ twenty-six.

→ surprise day ≠ December 25th

→ I am . . . ≠ Pansexual.

→ work, work, work ≠ I have no occupation. I never finished high school, and my constant bursts of anger would make working extremely difficult.

» d ii g ii n g . d e e p e r «

→ image in the mirror ≠ I suppose it would be safe to say that I, like my counterparts, am a rather breathtaking individual. I inherited my gray eyes from my father, though I have no idea who I inherited my pale, almost silver hair from. Although my hair was already close to my shoulders when I was younger, and it grew out quite well when I was ..out of commission, and when I got out, I never did cut it. It's close to reaching my waist now, and I do a rather good job at keeping it maintained. Most of the time, I let my hair hang loose, although I will occasionally pull it back if it's in my way. My eyes, as mentioned before, are gray. For the most part, they have a dead look to them; if you ever happen to see any emotion in them, it would be best to keep your distance, because I am probably about to have an overload of anger.

I stand at an even six feet; that's fairly average for where I used to live, I suppose, but apparently that is a bit taller than average in Japan. I'm fairly thin, considering that I do not take the best of care when it comes to my health. However, I am not underweight technically, so it should be all right. My weight is pretty evenly distributed, and I am not anything special when it comes to my build. I have wide-ish shoulders, and I am slim through my waist and hips. I've got long legs and arms, although I am a far, far cry from looking akward.

When it comes to clothing, again, I have no fondness for anything special. I like button down shirts, and basic slacks. Traditional Japanese clothing doesn't appeal to my in the slightest, although some of the more simple things are rather comfortable. I prefer calm colors; usually white, black, or grey. However, I do have a particular fascination with the color red. It is a color that suits me in a morbid way, though I never wear it in excess. At times, I will wear more complicated shirts, with odd positioning on the buttons, wide sleeves, and strange collars. The only other thing I am rarely seen without is a shell necklace that I was given for one of my earlier birthdays. I'm not even sure why I wear it; there is no lingering affection attached to the object. I suppose I'm simply fond of it.

→ sides of me ≠ I'm violent. Truly, there is little else to my personality. I was diagnosed by a therapist as suffering from schizophrenia and monomania when I was still a teenager. I am not quite in touch with reality, and the only thing I can really focus on is my own anger. Whether I look calm or not, I am constantly seething, constantly looking for some way to vent my anger. However, I rarely have outlets for my rage, so I keep it held in. I am superficially calm and collected, my rage concealed beneath the surface. I'm good at remaining calm, keeping myself from flying off the handle. However, if I make a turn for the worse, and my anger gets the best of me, there is no containing me. My goal is to hurt myself, hurt anyone and anything within easy reach, until my anger is spent or I am simply too worn out to continue. It's usually the latter. And honestly? I don't even know why I'm angry. It's simply there, a rage that has been within me since I was born. Even if I want to be happy, there isn't much that makes me that way.

I am truly a hypocrite. If I am not content, then the people around me have no place to be, and I often have to physically hold myself back to keep away from committing some sort of act of senseless brutality. There is nothing, no one that means anything to me, but I must mean something to other people. Even if I am nothing more than a source of nightmares, I am not content to be viewed in an apathetic light. I suppose one could say that I am attached to my zodiac. I want them to stay near me. However, at the same time, I want nothing more than to destroy them in any way possible. I can remain composed in the face of strangers, but my temper is more volatile in the presence of my own Zodiac. It's kind of funny, I suppose. Well..it's funny if your sense of humor is anything like mine. I guess I'm a sordid b*****d, altogether. Normal people are rarely worth my attention, but my dear, twisted Zodiac..they are worthy of seeing my rage.

Now then. I guess I should explain to you how it works around me, depending on my mood. If I haven't been pushed over the edge, I'm honestly a rather good conversationalist. I'm intelligent, if I do say so myself, and I enjoy intelligent conversation. I do not have a soothing presence, but I do remain calm when faced with a decent conversation. I really am not difficult to talk to...as long as you have nothing foolish to say. If I'm in a bad mood, however...I am quick to get angry at the smallest things. I am constantly under stress, constantly trying to refrain from lashing out and hurting someone "needlessly". If I seem stressed, then please. I am not quite stable, and though I may seem to be on the verge of tears one moment, I will most likely injure the person who attempts to comfort me.

→ retell the tale ≠ Ah, so you want to hear the tale? Hear why I am the way I am? The doctors will call it psychosis, E-PTSD, anything to justify themselves, but I suppose I can give you my side of the story, can't I?

The first thing to note is that my parents were indifferent to my existence. I was a bit of an inconvenience to them and their careers, although they never would have said that. My father was a Sohma..Ironically, his grandfather was none other than Kyo Sohma, although that person died quite some time before I was born. As for my mother? She was British, a businesswoman who had been relocated to Japan. I don't remember much about them, but I do remember my mother's exquisite blue eyes. I suppose there's was an affair like any other; they had no intentions of getting married, but that changed when my mother became pregnant. They were married before she had even reached five months, and two months later, there I was, a bit too early for my own good. My grandmother said that I was completely quiet when I was born, rather than screaming as all other newborns do. Perhaps that was the first sign that I wasn't quite right. I was capable of talking by the time I had reached nine months of age, but I was almost two before I started walking. The first time they tried to let me walk, I ended up falling and hitting my head on the low coffee table. That was when they found out about the hemophilia I had inherited from my mother's side of the family. I suppose unfortunate for them that I didn't die from a head injury at such a young age.

From that point on, everything I did was controlled by my parents, to prevent me from being injured. I suppose they did it for my own good, but I didn't want to be controlled. There was always something there, even when I was small, that made me want to be the one doing the controlling. Mother moved us back to London, closer to her family, and I went to school in Britain. Well, I tried to go to school there. I was not the most healthy of children, and my unexplainable anger issues surfaced by the time I was six. The school counselor told my parents I was simply insistent on being the center of attention, but that wasn't it. There was something missing in me, and I didn't know what it was, and I was angry because of it. I think I was starting to suffer from psychosis when I was still in primary school, so I was rather unstable. So much so that I eventually had to be schooled at home.

My private teacher was an insufferable creature, that much I can say with no difficulty. I believe the man had a bigger God complex than I did; I had to do everything his way, or I would be forced to do it all over from the beginning at even the slightest mistake. My parents were often working, and the only thing they told me was that I had to do it. I tried lashing out a few times, as any rebellious child would do, but there wasn't anything that could be done. So I learned. I learned to bide my time, to control my anger, to watch and wait until I had an opportunity. I never got an opportunity, so I was thrust back into a public school system with enough rage built up to last for a lifetime. I was almost at the breaking point by the time I walked home from my first day of highschool.

I completely lost myself that night, and I'm not even sure why.

When I came home from school, my parents were both home in time for a nice family meal, for once. It started out well enough, I suppose. Mother and Father spoke over my head as they always did, as if I merely wasn't there. Perhaps if it had stayed like that, they might have lasted one more day. However, one of them, I can't remember which, asked me something. It was a simple question that most parents would ask their child. "How was your day?" That one question, however, was a form of attention I was unaccustomed too. For whatever reason, it pushed me over the edge. I don't clearly remember the details, but that was the last time I have any recollection of seeing them.

It took three days before anyone came to look for my mother or father after the former had failed to show up for work. What they found was a fourteen year old boy sitting at a table covered by a thoroughly bloodstained cloth, staring at a pair of bright blue eyes cupped in my hands. The 'proper authorities' had me evaluated by a psychiatrist. Post traumatic stress disorder, psychotic depression, and psychosis; I was considered mentally unstable, as if I didn't already know that. According to the psychiatrist, I had been suffering from such things for years, and they had obviously been largely untreated. Therefore, I was apparently not responsible for my actions; this was completely stupid. I like to think that the reason why I can't remember murdering my own parents was because, for once in my life, I was sane when I did it. As if I was just a normal person, pushed too hard for too long. I laughed about it when I was given a moment's peace; I laughed myself sick, sitting in that room as I waited for my grandmother to arrive. When my grandmother was given custody over me, she decided that I would do better locked up. After all, she had been given a lengthy list of medications that I had to take to keep me sane, but all they did was make me want to release my anger in consistent, violent bursts. So I was put in a mental institution 'for my own benefit.'

It took approximately five months before I was kept in a room by myself because of my constant bursts of rage. They considered diagnosing me as bi-polar and medicating me for that, but I did not have moodswings. I had one mood, and that was angry. It took only two weeks before I lost my temper yet again. This time, there was no one else around to hurt, so I injured myself instead. It was then that the doctors were made consciously aware of my hemophilia, and I eventually had to, quite literally, be kept in a padded room. I remained there for a good six years too, until my grandmother died. It was just a few months before my twenty-first birthday, and in that time, I had managed to exhaust a good portion of my rage, thanks to those stupid medications. I was just lucid enough to fool the therapists, make them think I was calm. However, I was fully intent on letting my anger build up again.

Since my grandmother was dead, and I was considered "cured", I checked myself out, paid the last of my medical bills, and had a nightmare about the day I murdered my parents the very first night I was out of that place. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? That was what they had treated me for, but it had been far worse than they'd surmised. It was a completely different condition ailing me, something those stupid people never could have fathomed, and there was no treating it now, because I honestly didn't care. As soon as I had figured up how much money I had remaining, I transferred what I could into an account in Japan, purchased a plane ticket, and returned to the place of my birth. There was something there that I needed to fill a hole in me, and I had no idea what it was. I purchased an apartment, and spent nearly five years looking for it. Much of the time, my searching led into the arms of other people, people I cared nothing about, but that restless void in me prevented anything from satisfying me. It was simply attention, something that would keep me content for a few moments when it came from people who simply were not worth my attention.

I don't recall what brought me to the Sohma Estates, eleven years to the day after I had been locked up as per my grandmother's request, but it mattered very little. I gave them my father's surname out of pure instinct, and that was how I learned about my role in the curse. I suppose it's fitting for a violent creature such as myself, but the mere knowledge of my place in life made that hole a little smaller. It was decided that there would be a banquet, and that even the pathetic outcasts of my own little circus would be invited.

And I must say, I'm quite anxious to meet them.

→ don’t tell a soul ≠
My past alone is a secret. I need no one else evaluating me. I suppose, if I need to inspire fear in someone, I will tell them of my crimes.
In particular, if you wish to frighten someone away, you should mention my fascinatinon with eyes to them. Brown and gray do not interest me, but blue, and green, and 'odd' colors that could belong only to the zodiac fascinate me.

» p e r s o n a l . ii n f o r m a t ii o n «

→ i love ≠
Sweets
Snow
Blood
Popcorn
Affection
The Ocean
Eyes

→ get away ≠
Medicine
Shots
Being annoyed
Alcohol
Pain

→ shaking in my boots ≠
Dying
Bleeding
Being confined
Fire

→ getting power ≠
Calm(most of the time)
Intelligent

→ weak at the knees ≠
Violent
Psychotic
Vain
Paranoid

→ dance to the music ≠
Edge of the Earth -- -- 30 Seconds to Mars
Gollum's Song - Emma Torrini
The Red -- -- Chevelle

→ be an oracle ≠ quote(s)

» c u r s e d . f o r . l ii f e «

→ are there any animals in here ≠ My hatred is my only curse; I am the God, twisted by that hate.

» t h e . b ii g . m a n «

→ behind the mask ≠ C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n

→ skittles, taste the rainbow ≠ Kiss my E Y E S and lay me to S L E E P...

My

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

Without a light I fear that I will
s t u m b l e i n t h e d a r k . ..

J a m e s Brewer
The world's a crowded k i n g d o m, and the sky is my c r o w n

Then from on high
somewhere in the d/i/s/t/a/n/c/e
There's a voice that calls
REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE
If you lose [ [ yourself ] ]
your c o u r a g e soon will follow
So be strong tonight

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You're a soldier now, fighting in a battle

[ [ To be free once more...] ] AND THAT'S WORTH F I G H T I N G FOR

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

I'll grow old and start acting my age
I'll be a [ [ b r a n d n e w d a y ] ] in a life that you hate
A crown of gold, a heart that's harder than stone
And it h/u/r/t/s a whole lot
x x x x xBUT IT'S MISSED WHEN IT'S GONE x x x x


Akemi "Jude" Sohma

You are calm and reposed
Let your [ [ b e a u t y ] ] unfold
Pale white like the skin
Stretched over your b/o/n/e/s

x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x x x x x x

xxxxxx

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

Shouhei Sohma
Passionate m a d n e s s and anguished b e a u t y

The mouth of the just shall meditate wisdom
And his language shall be s p o k e n in judgment

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And blessed is the man who endureth t e m p t a t i o n
For he shall recieve the crown of L I F E.

LORD, FIRE DIVINE, HAVE MERCY

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

xxxx"Jude" Sohma
:: 17 :: :: Male :: :: Bisexual ::
:: Eastern Rabbit ::
:: Student/cashier at Pryority Music ::
Hello there, A N G E L from my N I G H T M A R E



xxxxJames Brewer
:: 24 :: :: Male :: :: Heterosexual ::
:: Western Leo ::
:: Mechanic ::
You were F R E E Z I N G, I was W A R M E R



xxxxSamantha Brewer
:: 22 :: :: Female :: :: Heterosexual ::
:: Western Virgo ::
:: Singer/Hostess ::
And I feel like I'm the F L O W E R trying to bloom in S N O W



xxxxShouhei Sohma
:: 26 :: :: Male :: :: Pansexual ::
:: Twisted God ::
:: Unemployed ::
Kiss my E Y E S and lay me to S L E E P



xxxxElizabeth Brewer
:: 18 :: :: Female :: :: Bisexual ::
:: Non-Zodiac Brewer ::
:: Student/ flower arranger at Slice of Eden ::
And I'm B E G G I N G you to be my E S C A P E

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

«x» ___ Samantha Brewer ___ «x»

» b a s ii c s . o f . l ii f e «

→ a. k. a. ≠ Layla:: My middle name. There;s a song called Layla that Jude is rather fond of, so that's what he calls me. He says it's an 'inside joke' between him and some old friends, but I don't ask about it.

→ candles on a cake ≠ twenty-five, but I feel so much older...

→ surprise day ≠ September 4th

→ I am . . . ≠ I'm heterosexual, I think...I've never been physically attracted to another woman, at least. I can't say for certain that that couldn't happen, though.

→ work, work, work ≠ I'm a hostess at a fancy restaurant. I used to be the lead singer of a band called Denial, but after I lost Claire, I couldn't pull myself back together. I'm still a musician at heart though..

» d ii g ii n g . d e e p e r «

→ image in the mirror ≠ Sigh..this feels like an interview. Well, lets see what I can tell you about myself. I guess I'm allowed to sound like a narcissist?

For starters, I'm a pretty slender person. I'm only about five foot three, and men tend to tower over me. I don't weigh a lot, and it shows. Well, I don't exactly seem all skin and bones, but..it's obvious I'm pretty small. Small enough for Jude to pick me up with one arm. My breasts aren't -all- that noticeable, but it isn't as though they don't exist. I have fairly wide hips, but they're proportionate to my height. Mum always said I had a "really cute butt", much to my embarrassment..I guess it's true, though.And considering how short I am, I've got rather long legs. Clothes tend to sit well on me, and that's all I really need to know about my own body shape. There'.s been enough time for the weight I gained while pregnant to disappear.

I sometimes wonder if my family members I've never met look similar to me. I've been called pretty numerous times, so I'm rather sure that I am. I've got pretty delicate features; a small mouth, a small nose, and wide eyes. Maybe I look younger than I am; I'm not sure. My eyes are blue, but they aren't as intense as Jude's eyes are. They don't stand out as much as my hair, anyways. My hair is blond..for the most part. It has an almost pink tinge to it, something I've never quite understood. I guess I'm a 'cotton candy blond', if you don't mind the joke. Strawberry blond? No; it isn't red. It's pink. My hair is very long, about to my waist, and it's wavy. I guess it looks kind of like a mane; I never try straightening it, bedcause I like it just the way it is. My bangs don't even reach my eyebrows, and I'm fine with that too; they make my forehead look smaller anyways.

When it comes to clothing, I like pretty, feminine things. I will wear jeans if I'm not venturing far past my own door, or I just feel extremely lazy. I love cute, flowery blouses, and long skirts. I've never been one for miniskirts, or shorts. Even when I was on stage, my skirts always went below mid-thigh. I could probably look nice enough in them, but I just don't enjoy wearing them. I don't need to dress skimpily to look appealing..that's what Jacob always told me, anyways. Most of my clothing is breezy, and it kind of reminds you of butterflies and springtime. AT the same time, I'm very fond of thick, fuzzy sweaters, and when I am cold wearing those and wool coats is about the only thing that keeps me comfortable. My one indulgence is shoes. I -adore- shoe shopping. Some girls may spend their time poring over cute lingerie, and I've tried that before, but..I prefer shoes. Cute boots, in particular, are my favorite. I'm a girly girl at heart; I've never been much of a 'punk', despite the way Denial used to sound before we split up. I love makeup, I love jewelry, and Mum buys me perfume constantly, just so I can find smells that I like.

→ sides of me ≠ I remember once, Jude telling me something that he thought summed up my personality. "You're sweet, and you're shy, but that doesn't mean that you're weak or scared." I suppose that's accurate enough.

I wouldn't necessarily call myself a 'nice' person. I can be unbearably haughty at times, and I often expect people to adhere to my whims rather than their own. I can be rather rude if people question me, or if they push me to try and do things in a way other than what I want. However, I am sweet. Or, at least, I can be. Much like the cat I transform into, I know when to be sweet and innocent, to bat my eyelashes and convince people to do what I want. When my haughtiness, and my temper, wear people down, I can switch back to being that same sweet creature they expected until they can't possibly be mad at me anymore. Am I manipulative? Just a bit.

I am a shy person by nature. Around people I don't know, I can be very reclusive, very withdrawn. I don't enjoy social interaction for the sake of social interaction. I will deal with people for my job, but I am no great conversationalist like most of my other friends. I prefer being alone, with my piano or my books keeping me company. I prefer the quiet, over loud places. However, when I'm with friends, I do not like them to sit quietly with me. Even though I am not much of a talker, I love to listen. I love it when Jude talks to me about anything, be it telling me his thoughts about a song, trying to talk politics with me, or just telling me about his father and his childhood in Japan. It's soothing for me, to hear others speak without them expecting me to reply. If I feel the need to speak, then I will do so, but for the most part, I keep my thoughts to myself. It's better to look before you leap, I always say. However, I -am- a curious person by nature, and I sometimes cannot help but ask questions about things. Curiosity killed the cat, I suppose, but my questions are always innocent enough.

Among my friends and family, I am a different person from the shy, polite creature people see. I show my friends and family all of my insecurities, yes, but I also show them my fun side. I enjoy laughing, and I am a very playful person. I give all of my affection to those who are willing to accept it. I have very random moments, as well, that often cause embarrassment to my female friends, to my mother, or, bless his heart, to Jude. At random times, I have a sudden craving for closeness. I want to feel another person next to me, feel their warmth for some reason. I used to snuggle into my mother when I wanted that as a child. As a teenager, my girlfriends and I could make a game out of it; they simply thought I was joking around. And Jude..well, I believe he's slowly getting used to when I decide to crawl into his bed in the middle of the night. It's indecent, but..I can't really help it. However, I think Jacob was the only person who saw one last side of me, something that not even Jude has noticed. I am a tease at times, shifting my hips and giving those sweet stares, just to make my interactions with others interesting. It was a game I used to play with Jacob, something that helped alleviate the pressure of him being unable to touch me. I do it impulsively now, flirting without the intention of connecting with another person. When my confidence is high, I can be quite the..'sex kitten', if you pardon the pun. But like I said, only my ex-fiance was privy to that side of me.

I believe myself to be a weak person. I am not strong-willed; I cave under pressure, and I often feel like I am simply not good enough. People insist that isn't the case, but I always insit that they explain to me why they think I'm not weak. I have reasons to disprove everything they say, but..somehow, I always want to believe it when my mother or Jude tells me that. I'm scared at times, nervous in new situations, nervous around new people. If I don't like a situation, my instinct is to run and hide. I don't want to be around things that I'm afraid of, because I am never simply 'afraid' of something. I am terrified of things that most people would simply worry about. I can be fussy, over-critical of the smallest details. I stress the details so much ,I'll often miss the bigger picture.

I suppose I'm an odd person, but changing would be difficult. And minus my insecurities, I'm rather happy with myself.

→ retell the tale ≠ Oh my...are you sure you're prepared to hear this? Well..lets see what I can tell you, then.

My childhood, aside from the curse, was extraordinarily normal. My mother was an artist, and my father was a doctor. How that worked, I will never know, but they loved each other passionately. Maybe it was that love that they relied on to stay together when I was born. I was two months early, coming into this world. The moment Daddy held me in his arms, I was no longer an infant girl. What was wrapped in that pink blanket instead, was a newborn kitten. Well, the two of them were shocked..to put it mildly. However, my mother was prepared to raise me as best she could. .as was my father. So, even the curse wouldn't break them apart, and they loved me dearly as such. Mum raised me with the tender patience only a true mother can. It was she I went to later in life, for advice, for that adoring affection I so desperately needed when my world came crashing down around me. Daddy was my quiet strength, I guess. He was there when I needed him, even though he couldn't hug me like Mum could.

From a young age, I developed an interest for music. Daddy didn't think that it was terribly practical, but my mother was excited at my interest. She put me into lessons; piano, guitar, violin..even a few singing lessons. It left me..very busy, even as a child, but I soaked up all of the information that was put into my mind like a sponge. Even today, I cannot resist a piano, or singing a song that's in my head. I was a fairly normal child, beside the curse, and I was happy with that.

When I reached high school, I was not in much of a mood for relationships. I was the musician, the art junkie..I was not the most popular girl in school, but I had friends..people who loved music, like me. And, it was only natural that we would want to start a band. I was sixteen when I asked my mother if we could use the garage to play music, just like every other group of punks who thought they could make something of themselves. She was thrilled still, so she let us. To be honest, we weren't the greatest band in the world. Actually, we kind of sucked, starting out. But as we got older, as we practiced more and more, we got rather good. Once I was eighteen, we started working to get gigs at various places. It was small-time; bars, coffee shops..eventually though, we got bigger. Bigger nightclubs started getting interested in us, in our music. It was sad, that we never made it to the big time, but we were doing well back then.

It was at one of these nightclubs that I met Jacob Todd. The first man I had ever been in love with. The first person I ever told my secrets to. I started dating him against my better judgment. I knew it couldn't go anywhere, but..I was young, young enough to entertain foolish notions. He didn't understand why I wouldn't let him hug me, why I wouldn't be intimate with him, but I did my best to show him how much I loved him. I was dating Jacob when I met Jude. He was a teenager, a young Japanese man who had run away from home. He ran into me, and, for the first time in my life, I did not transform. This was how I learned more about my own curse. It was something similar to what his family in Japan suffered. THe Sohma curse..they transformed into animals from the Chinese Zodiac. It was all fascinating stuff, and I decided to keep in contact with Jude.

After a lot of thought ,I brought up enough courage to tell Jacob about the curse. I couldn't take it anymore; a part of me longed to have children; I wanted to be a mother. Jacob was the only man I wanted to have children with. So I told him that. I told him I wanted to have his baby, and then I let him hug me. And when I transformed back, he was just as shocked as my parents had been, all those years ago. But he didn't leave me. Not then, anyways. It was obvious that having sex was going to be impossible, but..I so desperately wanted to have his child. So, I did what I always did whenever I wanted something and the spoiled child in me demanded indulgence.

I went to Daddy for money. When I told him why, he was..accepting. Mum was beyond accepting. She was -ecstatic-. SHe wanted grandchildren, babies to love and spoil. I guess I inherited her desire for a family . She welcomed my fiance into the family like he was already her son. And so, I went to a doctor. I underwent therapy, took drugs, went through artificial insemination. And after a few months, it finally worked; I learned that I was pregnant. Even if I couldn't touch my fiance, I was happy with my life. I was expecting happily ever after. I went to my mom for advice, for support. She and Daddy spoiled me, bought

And then, all at once, it was over.

When I was seven months pregnant, I fell down a flight of stairs as I was leaving Jacob's apartment. There was nothing anyone could do about it. All at once, I had lost my child. I hadn't been strong enough to protect her, to protect my little Claire. What sort of mother was I? I..I couldn't live with myself. Daddy tried his best, Mum tried her best, Jacob tried his best, but my parents and my fiance were no help. I couldn't be consoled, couldn't be convinced away from my own failures. And so wrapped up in my grief was I, I inevitably pushed the man I had loved so much away. Mum tried to stop him, but Jacob didn't know how to deal with my grief. He didn't know how to speak to me, how to comfort me, when he couldn't even touch me. It was too much for him, and I can understand why. So he left, I moved back to my old apartment despite my mother's insistence that I could live with them again, and I left myself to my solitude.

It was only a few weeks after Jacob had ended our engagement that I ran into Jude again. I was still upset, still desperate for some sort of company..I asked him to come back to my apartment with me, and I just..broke down. I cried and I screamed even though this poor boy barely knew me. And even though Jude barely knew me, he stayed. For the first time in my life, a man held me close and let me cry like a frightened child into his chest, without me transforming. It was..a relief. And Jude stayed with me. He had no family; he had run away. So I devoted myself to looking after him. He became something like a younger brother to me. He looked after me, just as I looked after him. It was Jude who patiently helped me cope with my grief. It was he who helped me start playing music again. I was far from normal; I still hurt at times, and I will probably be frightened away from having children for the rest of my life. But..I tried to keep living.

One day, I was contacted through my father by someone who knew about the curse. I was invited to go to Japan, to go to the house that Jude had spent his childhood with. Of course, he was invited to come back as well. Even if he weren't, he wouldn't leave me that easily.

I'm admittedly excited to meet other members of my family, other people besides Jude who know what it's like to be cursed. And maybe by being in a new place, I'll be able to finish healing.

→ don’t tell a soul ≠
I think that Jude is the only person who knows about Claire and Jacob...I'd rather keep it that way.
If I don't have something to sleep with, be it a stuffed animal, a pet, or another person, I can't sleep. Unfortunately for Jude, he's usually the one who winds up curled up with me when I need to feel another human being next to me.

» p e r s o n a l . ii n f o r m a t ii o n «

→ i love ≠
Children
Jude
Ice cream
Fish
Watermelon
Singing
Swingsets
Cooking
Cleaning
Acoustic guitars
Snuggling - I suppose it's the cat in me..

→ get away ≠ Vermin
Warm weather
Arrogance
Doctors
Hospitals
Blood
Dirt
lettuce
cat food- the smell makes me nauseous.
Being abandoned

→ shaking in my boots ≠
Large bodies of water
Drowning
Forgetting something important.
Leaving someone I care about behind.
Being abandoned
Needles

→ getting power ≠
Cooking - It's something I learned from my mother. I love cooking, so it's all good.
Music - I am a musician at heart. I enjoy playing the piano and the violin, and I can play the guitar, but singing is my true passion..

Maternal
Empathetic
Polite
Detail-oriented

→ weak at the knees ≠
Long hair - Ask Jude how often I find myself playing with his hair. It's embarrassing.
Children - I will smother them with affection..and a crying child can get anything they want out of me..

Fussy
Nervous
Weak-willed
Haughty

→ dance to the music ≠ Latter Days -- -- Over the Rhine
Satellite Heart -- -- Anya Marina
The Tower -- -- Vienna Teng

→ be an oracle ≠ Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

» c u r s e d . f o r . l ii f e «

→ are there any animals in here ≠ As the Virgo, I am a..cat?

→ fur, spots, stripes ≠ There's a kind of cat called a ragdoll cat. That's what I am. I have long, fluffy hair, and bright blue eyes. Most of my hair is a pale beige color, except for the brown around my eyes and on my head and ears. I have a big, fluffy tail, and it's brown as well. Um.please don't try pulling on my tail. When I'm in this form, I love cuddling up to people. It was something that amused Jacob to no end.

» t h e . b ii g . m a n «

→ behind the mask ≠ C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n

→ skittles, taste the rainbow ≠ And I feel like I'm the f l o w e r trying to bloom in s n o w ...

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

xxxxxxxxxxxS a m a n t h a "Layla" B r e w e r
V i r g o
I'm a [ [ s a t e l l i t e h e a r t ] ] lost in the darkxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

s h e w o n t m a k e a s o u n d a l o n e i n
t h i s f i g h t w i t h h e r s e l f a n d t h e f e a r s w h i s p e r i n g i f xxxx
xx xx xxs h e s t a n d s s h e l l f a l l d o w n s h e w a n t s
t o b e f o u n d t h e o n l y w a y o u t i s t h r o u g h e v e r y t h i n g s h e s r u nxxxxx
xxx xxxxn i n g f r o m s h e w a n t s t o g i v e u p a n d l i e d o w n

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stand through the P a i n, you won't drown.

[C 4 r t 0 0 n M u f f i n]

Jude and Layla

She dreams through the noise, her weight against me
Face pressed into the corduroy grooves
And maybe it means nothing
But I'm afraid to move..







Who are you, taking coffee, no sugar?
Who are you, echoing street signs?
Who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover,
Dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?



SOMEDAYYOUWILLBELOVED

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