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Shameless Genius

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Posting Formats and Galore!
Peek, but please oh please, no posting!
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Post 2: [ s e e k i n g . h e a v e n ]--[kingdomhearts]--[o/a]
Post 3: Gaian Exchange + Bump Layout(s)
Post 5: Lords of the Underworld Layout(s)
Post 7: Fallon Remoria Layout
Post 8: RP Sample(s)
Post 10: Emerald Courts x
Post 12: Our Second Chance x x
Post 14: Timeless x
Post 15: Siege of Kirin x
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Shameless Genius

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Cø∂їηġ


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

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

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

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

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

Alphabets II

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

? Ɂ ɂ ʡ ʢ ʔ ʕ ʖ ˀ ˁ
Ȣ ȣ ȸ ȹ ʣ ʤ ʥ ʦ ʧ ʨ ʩ ɶ ы ʪ ʫ Ӹ ӹ
љ њ Ѹ ѹ Ѫ Ѭ Ѥ ѥ ѧ Ѩ ѩ ѫ ѭ ѱ
҈ ҉
҈ ҉
ʬ ʭ ɚ ɷ ҂ ҃ ҄ ҅ ҆
ʰ ʱʲ ʳ ʴ ʵ ʶ ʷ ʸ ͤ ͥ ͦ ͧ ͨ ͩ ͪ ͫ ͬ ͭ ͮ ͯ ʹ ʺ ʻ ʼ ʽ ʾ ʿ ˌ ˎ ˏ ˑ ˒ ˓ ˔ ˕ ˖ ˗
˂ ˃ ˄ ˅ ˆ ː ˇ ˈ ˉ ˊ ˋ ˘ ˙ ˚ ˛ ˜ ˝ ˞ ˟ ˍˍ


Numbers

① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ ⑧ ⑨ ⑩ ⑪ ⑫ ⑬ ⑭ ⑮ ⑯ ⑰ ⑱ ⑲ ⑳

⑴ ⑵ ⑶ ⑷ ⑸ ⑹ ⑺ ⑻ ⑼ ⑽ ⑾ ⑿ ⒀ ⒁ ⒂ ⒃ ⒄ ⒅ ⒆ ⒇

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

❶ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼ ❽ ❾ ❿ ⓫ ⓬ ⓭ ⓮ ⓯ ⓰ ⓱ ⓲ ⓳ ⓴

⓵ ⓶ ⓷ ⓸ ⓹ ⓺ ⓻ ⓼ ⓽ ⓾

Ⅰ Ⅱ Ⅲ Ⅳ Ⅴ Ⅵ Ⅶ Ⅷ Ⅸ Ⅹ Ⅺ Ⅻ Ⅼ Ⅽ Ⅾ Ⅿ

ⅰ ⅱ ⅲ ⅳ ⅴ ⅵ ⅶ ⅷ ⅸ ⅹ ⅺ ⅻ ⅼ ⅽ ⅾ ⅿ

Arrows

← ↑ → ↓ ↔ ↕ ↖ ↗ ↘ ↙ ↚ ↛ ↜ ↝ ↞ ↟
↠ ↡ ↢ ↣ ↤ ↥ ↦ ↧ ↨ ↩ ↪ ↫ ↬ ↭ ↮ ↯ ↰ ↱ ↲ ↳ ↴ ↵ ↶ ↷ ↸ ↹ ↺ ↻ ↼ ↽ ↾ ↿
⇀ ⇁ ⇂ ⇃ ⇄ ⇅ ⇆ ⇇ ⇈ ⇉ ⇊ ⇋ ⇌ ⇍ ⇎ ⇏ ⇐ ⇑ ⇒ ⇓ ⇔ ⇕ ⇖ ⇗ ⇘ ⇙ ⇚ ⇛ ⇜ ⇝ ⇞ ⇟
⇠ ⇡ ⇢ ⇣ ⇤ ⇥ ⇦ ⇧ ⇨ ⇩ ⇪ ⇫ ⇬ ⇭ ⇮ ⇯ ⇰ ⇱ ⇲ ⇳ ⇴ ⇵ ⇶ ⇷ ⇸ ⇹ ⇺ ⇻ ⇼ ⇽ ⇾ ⇿

Math Symbols

℀ ℁ ℂ ℃ ℄ ℅ ℆ ℇ ℈ ℉ ℊ ℋ ℌ ℍ ℎ ℏ ℐ ℑ ℒ ℓ ℔ ℕ № ℗ ℘ ℙ ℚ ℛ ℜ ℝ ℞ ℟
℠ ℡ ™ ℣ ℤ ℥ Ω ℧ ℨ ℩ K Å ℬ ℭ ℮ ℯ ℰ ℱ Ⅎ ℳ ℴ ℵ ℶ ℷ ℸ ℹ ℺ ℻ ℼ ℽ ℾ ℿ
⅀ ⅁ ⅂ ⅃ ⅄ ⅅ ⅆ ⅇ ⅈ ⅉ ⅊ ⅋ ⅌ ⅍ ⅎ ⅏ ⅐ ⅑ ⅒ ⅓ ⅔ ⅕ ⅖ ⅗ ⅘ ⅙ ⅚ ⅛ ⅜ ⅝ ⅞ ⅟

Symbols

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


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

Faces

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


Borders I

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

Borders II

❛❜❝❞【】〖〗►◄﹃﹄『』◢ ◣◥ ◤
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
==== ☠ ====
☆═━┈┈━═☆
± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ±
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
╔══════════════╗

╚══════════════╝
┏━━━━━━━━━┓

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


Boxes, icons, ect.

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

██Brown
██Darkred
██Maroon
██Firebrick
██Indianred
██Crimson
██Red
██Tomato
██Orangered
██Coral
██Darkorange
██Orange
██Sandybrown
██Goldenrod
██Khaki
██Gold
██Yellow
██Greenyellow
██Lawngreen
██Chartreuse
██Lime
██Mediumspringgreen
██Springgreen
██Palegreen
██Lightgreen
██Limegreen
██Mediumseagreen
██Seagreen
██Forestgreen
██Green
██Darkgreen
██Darkolivegreen
██Olivedrab
██Olive
██YellowGreen
██Darkseagreen
██Cadetblue
██Teal
██Darkcyan
██Lightseagreen
██Mediumaquamarine
██Mediumturquoise
██Turquoise
██Aquamarine
██Cyan
██Aqua
██Paleturquoise
██Powderblue
██Lightsteelblue
██Lavender
██Alice Blue
██Azure
██Honeydew
██Mintcream
██Lightblue
██Skyblue
██Lightskyblue
██Deepskyblue
██Darkturquoise
██Cornflowerblue
██Steelblue
██Mediumslateblue
██Slateblue
██Dodgerblue
██Royalblue
██Blue
██Mediumblue
██Darkblue
██ Navy
██Midnightblue
██ Light Slategray
██ Slategray
██ Dark Slategray
██ Darkslateblue
██Indigo
██Blueviolet
██Mediumpurple
██Darkviolet
██Darkorchid
██Purple
██Darkmagenta
██Mediumorchid
██Orchid
██Plum
██Thistle
██Violet
██Fuchsia
██Magenta
██Hotpink
██Deeppink
██Lightsalmon
██Salmon
██Darksalmon
██Mediumvioletred
██Palevioletred
██Lightpink
██Pink
██Antique White
██Mistyrose
██Lavenderblush
██Floralwhite
██Seashell
██Linen
██Oldlace
██Cornsilk
██Lightgoldenrodyellow
██Papayawhip
██Blanchedalmond
██Bisque
██Peachpuff
██Lemonchiffon
██Lightyellow
██Snow
██Ivory
██Moccasin
██Navajowhite
██Wheat
██Palegoldenrod
██Beige
██Tan
██Burlywood
██Peru
██Chocolate
██Darkgoldenrod
██Darkkhaki
██Rosybrown
██Sienna
██Saddlebrown
██White
██Ghostwhite
██Whitesmoke
██Gainsboro
██Lightgrey
██Silver
██Darkgray
██Gray
██Dimgray
██Black
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Shameless Genius

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Main Quest: Sweet Porridge
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Any Unwanted bugs and ink are welcome
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Shameless Genius

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xxxxxxxxxxx {私の聖域} ║▌│█│ ║█


xxxxxxxUser Image

                          x x x keybladeWIELDER !
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    Shameless Genius

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    ╒════════════╕
    Ð ι § ą § τ є я ' Ş кεεpεя.....═══.....

    .。.:C Y R U S:..。.

    ....═══......Ð ι § ą § τ є я ' Ş půppετ
    ╘════════════╛

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    Shameless Genius

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    {私の聖域} ║▌│█│ ║█

    User Image



    .*|K|A|R|I|N|*.
























    ║▌│█│ ║█ {私の聖域}
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    Shameless Genius

    9,300 Points
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    User ImageȺ Ҭяʊe Ɋuɇєn....

    will ʂɑʗяiʄῗce evέяytҕiȵɢ for her people...

    ʄɑȴȴση Яӛmσяῗɑ
    User Image
    Sacrifice...
    The action of giving up or losing something in order to reach/sustain a desired result
    i.e. the loss of self expression for a country's strength


    __________________________________________________________________________
    __________________________________________________________________________





    Text goes here. Text goes here.
    Words go here. Words go here.
    Thoughts go here. Thoughts go here.








    ______________________________________________________________________________________________
    ______________________________________________________________________________________________


    Duty...
    can manifest itself in many ways.
    Mine has consumed my soul...
    Falling Mist's avatar

    Shameless Genius

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    The sun sat high in the middle of the sky as a warm breeze rustled the leaves in the trees. A woman sat quietly by the basin's edge, her bare feet dangling limply in the water. The ripples bounced back and forth as they collided with each other and the smooth rocks that erupted from the water's surface. On the opposite side of the basin, a ruined temple sat entangled in vines and underbrush. Pieces of the once majestic statues that guarded it lay shattered and chipped, buried in the plants and submerged in the water. Tigers serenely sun-bathed or rested in the shelter of the temple's shadow, while the younger ones wrestled in the water.

    Clara leaned back, her eyes closed, the sun warming her cheeks. Faint bird calls echoed throughout the jungle, the buzzing of dragonflies hummed softly. Out of all the places they had visited during the past month, none of them had been like this. Everything was peaceful, everything was - not quiet.

    Shrill laughter and heavy, romping footsteps shattered the silence. Clara turned around to see her daughter break through the bamboo and the banana leaves followed by a scrawny black panther. Her bare feet were covered in mud, her shorts, tank top, and hair were adorned with small leaves and seeds, but in spite of it all, she was really laughing as she leaned up against the trunk of a giant banana tree. The panther, his muddy smears more apparent against his black coat, collapsed onto the ground by her feet, panting heavily.

    "Do I even want to know?" Clara asked.

    "Probably not." Arya muttered with a bright smile and the panther growled irritably in reply.

    "A sore loser, I take it?"

    "The worst!"

    "That's because she's a lousy cheater!" The panther rebutted. Scrawny in size only due to his adolescence, Kamik sat up and glared at Arya.

    "I would never do such a thing!" Arya retorted. "Just because you tripped over your own tail -"

    "That someone tied around a branch! Honestly, where did -

    "Kamik, that's enough." A cool voice interrupted as another dark jungle cat stepped out from the banana leaves.

    "Bagheera, I was wondering when you'd come out of hiding." Clara murmured with a warm smile and the panther favored her a weak grin

    "I'm never too far away, Kamik could tell you that much." The younger panther groaned causing Arya to laugh weakly. "But I actually have something to talk to you about," He continued and Clara's content transformed into curiosity, "Alone." She nodded in understanding and turned to face her daughter who automatically, yet reluctantly understood.

    "I'll just - be in the clearing beyond the temple's gate..." The seventeen year old murmured quietly as she disappeared in the banana leaves once more. Kamik looked curiously towards Bagheera who nodded for him to follow after Arya.

    "It's nothing to worry about." He reassured, and Kamik quickly ducked into the dense forest after Arya. Bagheera sighed wearily as he padded over to sit beside Clara at the water's edge.

    "To be talking to me alone? Something serious has to be bothering -"

    "Explain to me what this is." He interrupted as he lifted his paw to reveal a crumpled piece of purple paper. "I am well versed in the ways of men but never have I seen something as extraordinary as a meatless bird flying through the jungle. What aren't you telling me?" He demanded in his quiet, icy tone. Clara couldn't find any words to justify the piece of paper as she stared at it in disbelief. How did it find them here? She carefully took the crumpled bird from his paw and opened it to reveal exactly what she dreaded. A letter. A call to arms. The mother quickly crumpled the page within her own fist.

    "It's a letter... for my daughter." She murmured quietly.

    "Why on earth does a letter meant for your harmless daughter fly?" Bagheera demanded, his golden eyes narrowing.

    "She's far from harmless and I know - I lied."

    "After Mowgli we can't afford any more trouble from men. It only creates unrest with the animals."

    "I know! I know!" Clara hissed. "I've only been trying to protect her, that has to be something you can understand." She murmured accusingly as her amber eyes fell to the crumpled letter within her hands. "We've been world hopping for the last month, never staying anywhere for more than a few days. I was training her, and finally getting to know her because the veil I had hidden myself behind for the last twelve years cut me off. I just - I wanted to keep her with me for as long as I could before I would lose her again."

    "What do you mean again?" Bagheera asked hesitantly. Clara looked up into the panther's golden eyes. Their strength shadowed with fear.

    "The worlds are in danger." She answered gravely. "And she's one of their only chances of survival..."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "A summons?" Bagheera demanded as he rose from his place by Clara's side. The two had been sitting at the base of a banana leaf tree. The panther began to pace along the water's edge. "You need to send her."

    "You can't expect me to send her off without her consent!?" Clara choked as she stood up as well to stare down at the panther. The gain of height was hardly comforting though, she would be powerless against his strength. The panther's golden eyes looked up into the woman's face as he stopped pacing.

    "I expect you to stop being a mother and to be the general you and I both know you once were." He stated coldly. "I will protect my cub with my life, but when his life insures the safety of others - I must know that I have to let him go." Clara hesitated and turned away, his eyes could find the truth, no matter how deeply hidden away it was.

    "I gave that responsibility away years ago - for their sake..."

    "That does not mean you have lost the ability to command." He quickly interrupted. She hesitated once more, there was no arguing with him. He'd always won and she hated him for it..

    "I'm sending her to the slaughter - "

    "You're sending her to do what is right. What she makes of your dismissal is entirely in her hands..."

    - - - - -

    "Arya..." Kamik murmured quietly as the two of them crawled out from the underbrush and into open jungle.

    "I can't believed she'd be so - ugh - 'Let's be friends! - Don't worry, we'll keep each other safe!' - Safe my a**!" The raven-haired girl muttered irritably as she plopped herself angrily onto the ground. "Regardless of her stupid new attitude - I can't trust her farther than I can throw her!" She continued as she ripped several blades of grass out of the ground and threw then out of her hand to watch them float away on the breeze. The panther quietly padded over to her side, and laid down.

    "If you are as important as the letter says... you really should accept the call. You have an opportunity to see much and help so many people... something I dream - "

    "Your dreams give me nightmares." Arya interrupted curtly as she ripped more grass up and flung it into the breeze. "Murder is not an admirable talent..."

    "So - saving worlds is something to be ashamed of?" Kamik asked bewilderedly as he sat himself up by the girl's side. She turned to look at him, his soft blue eyes penetrating her far deeper that she would have liked, and finally looked away to gaze at her fingers playing in the bare patch of dirt she had created. Her silence was deafening, and he could take no more of it. He rolled his eyes and stood up, sighing exasperatedly. "You really are something Arya..." He muttered angrily before beginning to stalk off into the underbrush. "I hope I run into you when you've figured out what the right thing to do is." He said coldly as he turned around to face her before disappearing into the depths of the jungle.

    The conqueror turned over her shoulder to stare at the spot he had just vacated... was she really ... the one that was wrong?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Arya quietly stepped out from the underbrush, grass silently crunching beneath her feet. Her mother was still sitting by the water’s edge. She breathed in deeply before continuing forward to stand above her mother, extending her hand. “Give me the letter.” The seventeen year old demanded.
    Clara froze. That little, eavesdropping, teenaged – She sighed. She’d only been fooling herself to think that there was any way she could keep her daughter away from the letter; it was a part of the unavoidable story they were meant to be a part of. One that her own part had long since come to a close, at least it seemed that way. “How long have you known?” She asked quietly, her gaze still glued to the rippling water in front of her.

    “Long enough.” Arya muttered irritably.

    “And you know what it’s about I take it?” Her mother continued to ask.

    “It was a bird, meaning it’s from a conqueror. There’s only one conqueror that would probably want to talk to me. It can only be about one thing.” Arya answered coolly as she sat down beside her mother at the water’s edge. “You had to have known this was coming…” She continued, her tone less threatening and accusing than before.

    “Why do you think I’ve been dragging you to every world where I have animal contacts?” Clara asked quietly, a weak smile gracing her tired features accompanied by an uninspired laugh. “A part of being in this family is unfortunately dealing with – everything.”

    “An inherited problem. I really should be blaming you for all of this – “

    “Don’t even go there, you and I both know it all lies on your father! …” An awkward silence ensued between the two, what used to be a heated topic of debate was now a trigger for reverence. Arya’s eyes awkwardly fell to her hands, her fingers in a constant, slow, revolving motion to keep her distracted. Her mother’s gaze faltered as she hesitantly glanced at her apologetically. The topic for both of them would remain like this until it were finally put to rest… all of it.

    “It’s alright…” Her daughter murmured quietly, breaking the silence. “He had a habit of finding trouble anyways.” A hesitant but warm smile appeared on her face as she looked up at her mother’s startled expression. Clara could only nod in bewilderment. “You on the other hand, well, trouble would just magically find you.”

    “Oh, hush!” Her mother hissed as she rolled her eyes and laughed weakly. Another silence ensued between the two, the sounds of the jungle keeping the moment from growing too austere. “Arya,” Clara murmured after a few moments, “I’m not going to force you to do anything with this,” She continued as she opened her hand to reveal the crumpled bird sitting within it, “I only hope that you make the best decision for you, and when you’re ready for that matter. I wish I could say that I’ve given you the tools you need to do that but let’s face it, I’ve been an exemplary model of everything you wouldn’t want to be… and then some.” A tired grin appeared on her face as she stood up, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Maybe that in itself is a lesson; never let someone else take advantage of you dear, not even for an instant. Your will, your heart is your most valuable possession.” She extended her other arm around her opposite shoulder, dropping the bird into her hands. A small kiss on the forehead was what Clara perceived to serve as their goodbye for the next few months; Arya was going to answer the letter’s call, despite every disagreeable bone in her body, she was going to go back.

    - - - - -

    A bright light exploded by the water’s edge, and the girl sitting there was gone, a scrap of paper and the ripples on the water the only things left to remind us that she was there.

    ‘Mom,


    I made my decision, and I really think it’s the only right one. I – We have to finish what we started… what you guys started. Stay normal. For Kingdom Heart’s sake – Stay. Normal. I’ll need at least something to be that way when I get back.
    May a warm breeze push you forward
    and the glowing horizon guide you home,
    Arya


    P.S. Tell Lorian to get his lazy a** here as soon as possible. I don’t miss him – but, well… Just tell him to hurry up!
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    A pale blue door lined in gold slowly materialized on the cliff overlooking the ocean where the Etherean Estate stood. The stars were beginning to appear in the sky overhead as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon in the distance. A warm breeze ran across the grass and over the trees, carrying their incoherent whispers and the smells of the sea.

    A young girl stepped out from the door first, her tired eyes gazing hesitantly around her. Her clothes were jaggedly torn revealing that the gashes weren't just a fashion statement. The wounds varied in size, severity and kind... the pain was bearable only because it had to be. She was followed out of the door by a young man, his fair features contrasting her darker ones. A jacket hid any traces of how badly he was injured, if only his eyes could have done the same. They were tired and lacked a vibrant luster they seemed to have once possessed. The door slowly disappeared behind them, leaving them without an option of going back.

    "How do we know that it's real this time?" Arya murmured quietly as her eyes lingered on the large double doors in front of her.

    "I doubt they would try to interfere after letting us go, Ay." Lorian replied.

    "It's not just the Organization Lorian." His sister muttered miserably as she looked back at him through dark eyes. "Imagine how many people are just waiting to take us down after all the plans we've ruined and the ones that we could -"

    "Arya. Stop. Just Stop." He interrupted. "I've had enough of this. I don't need to be hearing about it from you of all people." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before slumping down slightly. "It's crossed my mind plenty of times, but someone has to be optimistic because you sure as h*** aren't."

    "Kill yourself." She hissed in reply causing her brother to smirk amusedly, trying to hide a laugh. He sighed once more as he walked towards the house, stopping a few feet in front of his sister.

    "We've got nothing to lose, Ay." He murmured encouragingly, turning back to face her. Her hardened expression faltered as she looked at her brother's hopeful smile. "And if something bad happens, we're taking it on together." He added, more to assure himself than her.

    Arya sighed before rolling her eyes, "Fine, but only because you look so pathetic when you do that."

    "Do what!?" He demanded offendedly.

    "Beg. It's sad." She laughed weakly and he couldn't help but laugh as well. "Now, come on before I change my mind." She urged as she took hold of his wrist and pulled him after her. They came to an abrupt halt in front of the door, surrounded in an awkward hesitance.

    "You ready?" He asked, his hand gripping the door knob.

    "Do it." She managed, and the door clicked as the hinges creaked silently and the door swung back.

    - - - - - - -

    "What shall I do about this portrait, Madame?" Alfred asked cordially while pulling off a graying sheet to reveal a dark canvas - what should have been a dark canvas. The woman blinked, desperately trying to believe that it was merely her eyes playing a cruel trick on her but... it was all too real. The canvas showed an island surrounded by small ships to the west where the sun had just set. The docks led into the town that was filled with winding cobbled roads and paths lit by street lamps and the occasional set of festive lights. The buildings mocked a certain French sophistication with their window boxes filled with budding flowers and iron rod balconies that looked out to the sea. The houses became grander as the viewer looked further away from the town. There atop a hill sat a four story mansion overlooking the entire town. Windows towering to the sky, a garden that can only be the work of someone that could talk to plants (or control them), and an open set of white double doors with golden knobs that allowed light from within the house to stream into the night.

    "It hasn't shown any image in years let alone - our home..." Clara whispered quietly as she stepped closer towards the frame, tracing her fingers across it. The painting was cool to the touch, wet... The woman pulled her fingers away to see that they were smudged with blue paint. "It's impossible... It's supposed to show his home, and he can't have a home, he's -"

    "Madame Clara... You cannot tell me there hasn't been a second that you've considered, even pondered, that he's not really gone..." The butler urged solemnly as he knelt down in front of the picture to examine it more closely. "I have only seen this painting wet when his home changes," he continued as his fingers gently retouched the area that Clara had just smudged, "and I - we know him to be a man who cannot go down so easily. What if this means that - "

    "I think the painting's wrong." She interrupted shakily. "It has to be." Carelessly, she wiped the paint off on the destroyed skirt of her dress before sighing. "Let's just finish - " The door groaned as it was carefully pushed open. Her heart stopped as her hand rose to grasp the key handing around her neck.

    "Hello?" A voice called out apprehensively as a tall figure stepped in the doorway. His eyes scanned the room quickly, searching for what he was obviously trying to find - he did a double take and his eyes rested on his mother. Lorian's brow furrowed beneath his bangs as he took another step into the foyer, his gaze not once faltering.

    "What is it?" A woman hissed irritably from behind him. She pushed her way past him, her violet eyes overshadowed by her scrutinizing glance.

    "Welcome back..." Clara called out to the two hesitantly. Lorian continued to stare at her blankly in silence, the thing he had forgotten - the thing he wanted so badly to remember - the person he wanted to find at the beginning of this journey - was standing in front of him. Arya slowly looked over towards her, her eyes conveying everything that wasn't said. The mother's hand fell away from her necklace as she nervously bit her bottom lip, desperately trying to hold back tears. "Welcome Home."
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    00Looking for Something I've Never Seen...
    0000000000000000000000000Alone and I'm Between.


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    x x x x

    You will know me as Cormac Madigan
    Mac, Madigan, The Lost Cause (In all honesty though, lay off the nicknames.)


    I Celebrate on March, 13th.

    There are 18 candles on my cake.

    My code name is
    The Male

    The story is long


    Have you ever wondered what it means to be the forgotten child? Cormac knows the tale all too well. He was born the second of three, forever trapped in a sandwich between his parent's pride and their beautiful jewel. His older brother, Ciaran, proved to be the ideal son born three years before Cormac. As a boy, he was clever, intelligent, and fit for any sport. (Many tend to forget how much of a complete asinine git he was towards his younger brother.) His abilities and charm only grew with his age and he now studies at some ridiculously pompous and facetious American University. The further away the better in Cormac's eyes. Nora, his younger sister by two years, is a traditional irish beauty. Startling loose, red ringlets and contrasting deep, green eyes characterize her fair face. She's incredibly sweet, to the point of exceeding the sweetness of candy. She partakes in everything and anything traditional. She dances as her grandmother did, plays the fiddle as her great grandfather did, and sings like her mother.

    Parents... Cormac honestly wishes he had none. His father is overbearing, constantly guiding his son down countless fruitless paths to see if he could somehow hold a candle to his older brother. As a younger man himself, Barry rarely struggled or felt isolated. His life was filled with success, from his career as a brewery owner, to the conquest of his beautiful wife, he never lost. He is a perfect brute of a man who relies on impulse and not necessarily thought out emotions. His second son leaves much to be desired in his opinion. As for his mother, Cormac could never blame her for anything other than being blissfully ignorant. For years, she somehow seemed to overlook any negative anyone she cared about could have. Ciaran's character, Cormac's "short-comings", Nora's mood swings, her husband's nature... completely oblivious. Yet, he loved her for it. She was always capable of offering him a weak smile when the rest of the world couldn't - a smile that ensured him everything was not so bad.

    Well, a smile that assured him of that as a child. When he was younger, Cormac was a dreamer. He lived for the nights he spent in his room away from his siblings when he would just read countless books. Fairytales, Myths, Novels, Biographies... He would tackle them all simply to hear a story that would prove to him that happy endings were possible when his was no where in sight. Each day proved to be a struggle in his brother's shadow at school and at home, his father constantly reminding him of that. The constant questions of "Why can't you just be like him?" haunted him ceaselessly until he was a teenager. Indifference kicked in. He stopped trying to be what everyone wanted him to be and he gave up on ever finding the happy ending he craved as a child. He was a shell, an empty and incredibly stubborn shell. Ciaran could no longer aggravate him, Nora could hardly get him to say a word to her. His mother remained ever oblivious, however this change in character was seen as a defiant act by his father. Barry immediately declared the only solution to be to send him off to St. Paul's in the North to awaken the "animalistic spirits" a teenager should possess.

    For four years, Cormac has stayed at the boarding school, only returning home on Holidays. His father is still waiting for the day that the school's rustic approach to education will awaken his desire to play a good match of rugby with the neighborhood team... he will most likely continue to wait for all eternity. At school, Cormac retains his indifferent air. He still reads... although, the books hardly end happily. His usual post beneath a tree by the lake had been his alone until a few months ago. A strange transfer student - come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if this girl took any classes - had invaded his spot. She regaled him with stories of great Faerie Courts, imminent doom, and ultimate power on a daily basis while insisting that she had never taken any drugs after being accused of needing to go to an intense detox program. He never bothered with her name. No one else probably even knew she existed.


    But it ends sweetly

    Cormac is insufferable to anyone looking for a genuinely human personality. His responses to questions use the least possible amount of words, even if offended. Actually, it seems as if he never gets offended. He treats everyone with the same cool indifference whether it's a complete git, a clown, or a beautiful girl. The Male simply stares at them, and to many that constant gaze seems condescending. Because of that stupid face, he's lucky if anyone is willing to hold a conversation with him that lasts longer than "Excuse me" or "Sorry, can I grab that behind you?".

    Ironically, he hates himself for it. The very character that defines him he deplores. There's nothing he can do to change it though... Some undying determination refuses to let him be anything that his father wants him to be. He won't be personable, he won't feel, he won't be enraptured... he will do nothing. And what makes it all so terrible, is the fact that that damned man was right! Being good at something would at least guarantee him a group of friends... Being good at something would at least make people want to talk to him about it, encourage him and support him. Secretly though, he is good at something... if only he knew what it was. Instead of pushing himself to find it, he wallows, refusing to interact and believe in anything anymore. He's a donkey. Such a stubborn and impossible donkey.


    The person who pulls my strings is,
    Falling Mist
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    ════════════════════════════════ ═════ ════════

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    ___________Because of indifference, one dies before one actually dies.

    | Ͻ Ό Я Ӎ Ⱥ Ȼ | | Ӎ Ά D Ϊ G Ѧ Й |

    ⒯ ⒣ ⒠ ⒨ ⒜ ⒧ ⒠

    Because of indifference, one will return to rise beyond one's self.___________

    ════════ ═════ ════════════════════════════════



                                      "You shouldn't of been born to either of you parents.. You should of been born to fae's" "Even better." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. Initial reactions were spontaneous and generally very exaggerated in comparison to the well thought-out opinion, but this time, it was dead on. Cormac didn't care one little bit either that it slipped. Shocking, actually. It had been ages since he had truly said what first came to his mind; he generally just left people wondering about what revolved in his head while he stared at them in stoic silence. It was invigorating to finally speak.

                                      An ability to choose? Cormac had heard both of them say something along those lines, but it hadn't truly sunk in. He glanced up at the blonde Colette as she looked at him, laughing weakly. "Well besides from keeping you alive, I got you to laugh, didn't I?" The eighteen year old smirked weakly, before awkwardly ruffling his hair. 'I didn't really just say that, did I?' The brunette demanded silently. It was so out of character; the type of immediate speech he hated, because it wasn't him. Or - was it? How was he supposed to know what he was truly prone to doing or being for that matter? What if he was supposed to be a pretentious jerk from the Unseelie Court? Well no, that was a stereotype. (Although, it was an accurate one from what little knowledge he had from books.) No. He had to relax. If Cormac allowed his mind to drift to conclusions like that, he'd end up no where, fast. The male would have his time to ask questions and to explore apparently. He would let the people impress themselves upon him, and he would move from there. 'I'm being ridiculous... suddenly learning you're irish doesn't necessarily mean you have to be a drunk all the time... okay. Bad example.'

                                      He cast an apologetic look towards Evangeline, realizing being so easy to accept Colette was probably going to irritate her. Why he felt that way; he had no idea. The young man felt like he owed her something. In spite of how annoying he once thought she was, deep down there was some thanks. She was doing it for the benefit of her people to give them an edge in a never-ending battle, but given how impossible Cormac was, he knew it had to have been hard to keep coming back for another try. "Basil, I know you're there."

                                      Cormac glanced at Colette to see her staring into the woods - at nothing. At least, Cormac couldn't see anything there. He pulled himself up off of the ground, attempting to get a better view. Although, he couldn't seem concentrate on looking. For whatever reason, it amused him to no end that he was taller than both of the women beside him. It also provided him a little assurance that he could potentially fend for himself if the need arose. (He was aware of how completely unrealistic that was, but he had to hope a bit.) The young man scanned the woods once more but to no avail. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. There's no one there." He grumbled, stretching his arms behind his back. "Besides, if there is someone - I doubt it's someone you know. What are the chances of three fae being here? They can't be that high." He attempted to reason, although he felt the odds were against him. "Am I really that important that you all had to come here?"

                                      A young man suddenly stepped out from the cover, almost magically really, leaving Cormac dumbfounded. He was very fair, slight even, as he stood in front of three of them. Through his pale blue eyes, he watched. The awkward laugh as he mentioned a father, 'Probably an a**,' Cormac thought. The shock at seeing Evangeline - Wait. He knew both of them - because he left? The male's eyes widened slightly, 'So he did have a spine...' Although, that seemed to do him little good. Basil had no idea what was going on in front of him, and Cormac sure as hell wasn't going to tell him.



                                      ════════════════════════════════ ═════ ════════
                                      (OOC smile
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    Daniel Parker Collins
    Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance.


    The B a s i c sXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX


                                                Call me Dan, Collins, Danny (The Childhood Friend)
                                                Time goes by too fast Seventeen
                                                May not look it, but I was 6'2"
                                                Now I think I'm 4'3"
                                                What does that have to do with anything?? Straight
                                                I think it's obvious... Male
                                                My new body? ...disgustingly cute.
                                                Keeping me grounded is...The Childhood Friend
                                                The new problem lies within the fact that I can't even get in a car without a booster seat.
                                                Special talents might be writing. I never took to sports, but writing... that's something I like.


    Go D e e p e rXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX


                                                They say I act ; Well, that depends on who you're talking to, doesn't it? To the girl of the hour, day, or week, I am perfection. For whatever reason, even knowing my usual pattern of date and dump, they still come looking for something they couldn't find anywhere else. If I'm that, great! More fun for me! (I'm saying that with a wink by the way.) To my friends, I'm hilarious. I'm never in a bad mood, mainly because I don't have the right to be in one! I'll never shy away from a racy or offensive joke, knowing full well that they tend to get the best laughs. I live to please, entertain and support when it comes to them. I am the obnoxious fan on the sidelines and I am the dark and brooding wingman at a party. I am perfection.

                                                But to Sus... well that's where everything I said before becomes absolutely irrelevant. With her, there's never been a need to put up a front of throw on a mask for the sake of having a good time. If he did, she'd only furrow her brow and through a knowing smirk, laugh. How could the little boy that pretended to chase butterflies with a towel truly be such an - a**? She'd have dumped me on the curve years ago if I really was... With her - there's no pretenses! It's all laid out on a table for what it is, even my writing which is something I hardly feel comfortable showing my english teacher. Sus... she's gonna kill me for what's happened.


                                                If you must know I was born on October 17th to Aila and Parker Collins, the definite last of their four children. James, the athlete and ten years older, Maura, the actress tailing James by a year, and Hanna... Her life was a constant struggle between the trips to the hospital and having to measure up to Maura and James. At least, she thought she had to find a way to compete with them and with diabetes, well... completely dedicating yourself to something can be a dangerous thing. She managed though, and came out of it as an incredible concert pianist whose dreams still lie in dance. They're all out of the house now; James works in D.C. fighting for some new bill, Maura floats around the streets of N.Y.C. having recently landed the coming out role of a lifetime in a revival, and Hanna travels the country, playing with whoever gives her a call.

                                                As for me, well... you can only imagine what I thought I had to do to gain my parents' attention. Like any little kid, I craved attention and acted out to get it. Grandma's vase... Grandma's pictures... Grandma's clothes... a lot of money went into getting those things back together. A lot of money also went into buying better locks, and sturdier, higher shelves. School at least grounded me - I hated that stupid time-out chair. And that's where I met Sus. Sus? Oh, haha.. I call her that because I couldn't say Susana. It just stuck I guess. She was there for everything really; Awkward, scrawny elementary school Danny, Awkward, pubescent middle school Dan, and, against all odds, Lady Killer Daniel. (Seriously, look at the baby pictures! You'll never understand how it happened. I don't.) She's still here... even though I don't see her as much as I did...

                                                Through all of this, my parents have been rocks. I honestly don't think there could not be any two people more in love than they are. Each challenge and each blessing, they took in stride, keeping us all level and sane. James, Maura, and Hanna at least returned the favor by becoming something great... I only hope I can and that it's not too late. Bit Morbid? Well yeah, I'm dead. Hit and Run accident returning from a poetry reading at the coffee shop. No one believed I was actually capable of that until Sus showed them my journals... Quite the shock I'm guessing. But here I am being a jerk when I've been given a chance to really prove myself. All someone has to do is tell me they love me, tell the ten year old that they love him.

                                                ...Great.

                                                I'll never get enough
                                                Poetry
                                                Short Stories
                                                Gray Skies
                                                Chipotle
                                                Irony

                                                Ehhhhh....
                                                Coffee
                                                Reptiles
                                                Biographies
                                                Similes
                                                Wet Blankets

                                                There's a song in my heart Chasing Cars/Snow Patrol
                                                Played by pulling so few strings Falling Mist
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    ____________________________________ם Ѧ Ƞ Ῐ Э L____P Ѧ R Ӄ Э R____ C Ѻ L L Ῐ Ƞ S

    ________________________________________________________________ the LADY KILLER


    I don't want to start over.
    I don't want to pretend that
    You are not my lover that
    You are only my friend... I won't.


    xxxxxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxx



                                With each step the young man child took, the realization of how grave his situation was sunk in. As Daniel aimlessly wandered the path through the park, he hardly noticed what was going on around him. He was nearly trampled by the same dog walker and her herd of dog's twice, a bicyclist had slammed into a garbage can because he wouldn't pick a side on the path, and several people had tried to ask him if he was lost to no avail; none of it mattered. His startling green eyes were glassed over in a dim, thoughtful haze and his mind was only sentient enough to continue pushing him forward along the paved walkway. Other things were more important.

                                It hadn't taken Daniel long to begin thinking about the effects his - departure would have on the people he cared about. His parents, so capable of dealing with adversity and sorrow, would put on a show for everyone else. The curtain would rise as people flooded the house, offering condolences and warm casserole dishes that just came out of the oven. They would accept them with the sincerest smile they could muster, asking James to bring it back to the kitchen where there would be little space left. He'd be the only one of his siblings that could handle that much direct contact with condolences... being in the public eye like he was, he could be plastic when called upon. His sisters... Maura would be a mess, ever the actress whose emotions were readily available at her sleeve. She'd be slumped in an arm chair in the study, reliving memories preserved on DVDs his grandparents had recently compiled for them. Hanna would be at her side, tragically beautiful. She never sacrificed too much of who she was for grief, but death usually was the exception. There would be a sophistication about her character, only completely breaking down once the doors had closed. At that instant, his parents would finally falter. They always said that having to bury one of their kids was their greatest fear.

                                The people at school would react in their own way, and there was so many of them that he could hardly begin to differentiate between them. Daniel placed them in groups; the awkward mourners would be the guys he was friendly with but not necessarily friends with, the people that hardly knew him but over reacted would be girls... a lot of girls, his corps group probably couldn't handle any of it, and Sus... If he wasn't already dead, she'd kill him for even thinking of leaving her. They were inexplicably inseparable. His first trip to detention for accidentally glueing someone's toy to their head was the beginning of their friendship. What even drove him to talk to her, he had no idea. She was a girl - at that age, every girl had cooties. What exempt Sus from that disease? Maybe her b.a. reputation at the time; that was the only thing he could peg it on without having to embarrass himself in front of friends. In reality, Danny was a nice kid. Simple as that. The two of them hit it off and stuck it out through everything. How Sus didn't hate him after freshman year, he had no idea. How Sus didn't manage to get her own admirers was something else that baffled him -

                                The sudden burst of honking pulled him away from his thoughts. He was standing on the brink of the crosswalk at the intersection outside of the park's gate. Daniel immediately jumped backwards, offering an awkward apologetic smile to those that had tried to warn him. "Wake up, man..." He muttered to himself, as worried pedestrians whispered amongst themselves about whether they should try to get the boy home. Trying to avoid being abducted by overly concerned citizens, the ten year old stepped off the curb once more. Several cars passed before there was an opening for him to cross. He took off at a dead sprint, and rounded a corner into an alley that took him out to another intersection. It was a less frequented part of the town square by the coffee shop - and remnants of a police crime scene.

                                White chalk outlined a body that fell on what looked like its side. The figures arms hung limply in front of itself and its legs were curved into the torso of the body. If one didn't know any better, it looked like they found him in a tranquil sleep. The blood stains unfortunately told the true story. The crimson stains were splattered everywhere within a five yard radius on the concrete. Bits of glass were strewn about as well, sparkling in the sun light.

                                Daniel collapsed in the shadows along the wall of the alley in complete silence. His arms lay limply at his side while his eyes, wide with horror, could not look away from the scene. He breathed with deliberate care, but it still felt like he was suffocating, as if some unknown weight were being pushed upon his chest with unrelenting force. It happened here. In seconds, it all happened here. The force finally became to overbearing that he couldn't handle it anymore. He violently threw his arms back against the bricks and sobbed uncontrollably, not caring who heard him or who found him anymore. They could take him to a home for all he cared! Whoever he was had been mutilated beyond repair last night and nothing would make anyone believe that he was still alive... No one could save him.




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        When will you see me. .

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    M A R R E X | " R E X " | D ' A R G O R R I D

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXPERPETUAL l e a d e r


    Just look at the s k y,
    just stop to look at all its wonder.
    Never forget it,
    never let it disappear from your thoughts.
    For you see,
    we exist because we gaze at them.



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                                              'You're doing it again,' A voice chided in song. A man straightened slightly at his place by the window. His bright blue eyes blinked several times, pupils trying to focus. The hand that had been resting at the nape of his neck ruffled his hair before falling to his side. He looked no older than thirty, but he had been around for six years longer than that. How long he had been staring out into the city though; he couldn't say. Seconds had been passing like hours today. The voice though, the one that only he could hear, had called him back to a reality he dreaded.

                                              XXXX

                                              "I've had enough of hearing these useless arguments, Marrex! Those were simply delusional ramblings - pure nonsense!" The man that had spoken stood up from his seat, slamming his fist into the table. His hair was graying where it still sat on his head, his beard was peppered as well with the signs of his age. His dark eyes were glaring towards the end of a table where a younger man sat, his eyes closed as he messages his temples. "The fact that you would even consider acting upon this stranger's dribble - we took you to be a better man than that." The younger man's eyes suddenly flashed open as he sat up to return the man's animosity. His bright, blue eyes shimmered ferociously in the flickering light of the fires in the sconces along the walls. '... rip his throat out.' A voice urged the brunette silently to which he couldn't help but smirk slightly. "This isn't - Are you - You can't possibly be mocking me!"

                                              "Far from it," Marrex began cooly, "my better half was though." A knowing laugh erupted from several of the other men seated around the table. They were all aware of the powerful bond the younger man held with a wolf, it was what had impressed so many of them after all upon their first meeting. The man awkwardly sat down having lost his fire. It was impossible to stay mad at the younger man for too long, his character was too likable. It was a problem many had apparently. "In all seriousness though, we have everything to lose if he is right and only one to condemn if he is wrong. I doubt any sane person would be so willing to sacrifice their credibility and their life for such a claim. I would invite further discussion and opinion, but in all honesty if we do not act soon it may be too late. If I must make the decision on my own, I will, and you all know where I stand. I would prefer to have the council behind me in my cause instead of against me."

                                              A silence fell over the room as Marrex gazed at them all, pensively hopeful. He locked eyes with a few of them, and none could hold the gaze for longer than a few seconds. 'They're all incredibly awkward,' Roran mused silently to his contract holder. 'A bunch of floundering fish in terms of nerves and looks - '

                                              'You're horrible.' The Leader reprimanded as his eyes fell on his friend, a true comrade in arms. He nodded approvingly from his place in the shadows, where he had been pacing throughout the entire deliberation. Marrex nodded in return with a weak smile as one of the men stood up from his place on the right of the table. Marrex had come to view this man as a father really; he hated and loved him for the familiarity. In a way, Loic was the leader of the council members. He didn't favor the conservatives and their traditions any more than he favored the progressives with their ideas for innovation. The older man with bright blue eyes was rooted like a tree to his convictions and in holding his temper. His statement would be their unspoken decision. "We will support you, only because we refuse to die knowing we hadn't done the right thing for our people."

                                              "I appreciate your - "

                                              "However, I will warn you. If this young man is not what he claims and his prophecies are nothing more than fantastical lies, he will be punished according to our discretion and you will need to prove to us beyond any reasonable doubt that you are capable of making sound decisions once more." He nodded solemnly before sitting back down; the noise of his chair sliding against the tile floor was excruciatingly loud. Marrex blinked slowly as he took a deep breath, the weight of his words slowly overcoming him.

                                              "I believe our meeting has come to an end then." The leader muttered, managing to subdue the tremor in his voice. He made no sign of leaving as the others filed out in groups of two or three, whispering excitedly as they left. In little more than a minute, the only sounds in the room were the sounds of the leader's deliberate breaths. 'It's a test...' He thought weakly. 'They'll condemn me if I fail.'

                                              'If you fail, we'll all be dead.'


                                              XXXX

                                              'Rex, will you stop dwelling on it!? It's depressing me.' Roran whined, literally flopping to the ground in his mind. Yes, as impossible as it seemed, Marrex could sense the creature's tendencies and envision them as if he were still walking by his side. There were times he truly regretted abandoning that small security. Roran's dark presence honestly was a form of protection; it now served as a vicious offense that he almost regretted possessing.

                                              'Oh and stop thinking about how much you miss scratching me behind my ears. It's far too sentimental for someone in your position, especially after you just kicked the council into submission!' Roran would be smirking if he could, with an undeniable lustful twinkle in his eyes.

                                              'You are so off base sometimes.' Marrex murmured in reply before glancing over his shoulder towards the door. Not a single sound could be heard from the hallway outside; that was its point after all. The entire room had been built with incredibly thick walls by skilled carpenters mages to prevent anything or anyone from hearing something they shouldn't have. At times this fact was reassuring, and at other times it drove the leader mad; he could never know if someone was approaching. At this instant, he was dreading the silent approach of the hero himself.

                                              The brunette leaned back against the wall, the cool stone alien but comforting; alien against the warmth of his skin, comforting for the small fact that he could feel its chilling effects. Having to stand against those that had made him was never something Marrex enjoyed doing. He would never necessarily not fight for what he believed because he was disagreeing with the council, it would just create tension that made his fight that much harder. It was a constant battle between respect, determination, and passion for the young council head. His eyes slowly glanced over towards the figure standing on the opposite side of the room, probably too absorbed in his thoughts or enraptured by the fox that served as his other half to notice his friend's anxiety. 'Don't start thinking like that either.' Roran cut in, intervening on Marrex's own destructive thinking. 'He's a good man, and the city needs him at your side, not in any other position.' He paused for a few seconds before continuing on, 'Besides... a fox is a lame animal. No Leader could ever inspire people with a fox.'

                                              Marrex couldn't help but die laughing. It was completely inappropriate for the moment but he could hardly care at all. He'd been dealing with proper decorum for hours and he couldn't bear it any longer. Being tolerable for so long is literally like having an elephant growing at alarming rate on your chest; it suffocates you! No sane person could handle that level of propriety for so long. 'If you dare talk to me while I am trying to deal with this stranger, I honestly will - '

                                              'Kill me?' He interrupted with a knowing smirk. 'I thought you were smarter than that!'

                                              'Stop talking.'




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    And as we gaze...
          we further our existence.

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    ╔════════════════════╗
    Fallon Fer'ha
    ╚════════════════════╝

    Queen of Agnilar


    Nickname: Fal, rarely though
    Aliases: Your Highness, although she abhors the technicality of it all
    Gender: Female
    Preference: Male
    Age: Forty-Four
    Race: Amorphagus
    Alignment: Agnilar
    Hailing Country: Agnilar
    Occupation: Governing a nation
    Weapons: Technically, a proper lady shouldn't have any, but in secret she may keep a beautifully curved, ornate saber and a set of kunai.
    Accessories:
        ♦ A beautiful hair comb decorated with white, gilded lilies accented with faded crimson.

        ♦ A single, aged bronze medallion hung on a long golden chain that is usually tucked into her dress. The medallion is rimmed in a soft jade and it depicts a cherry blossom tree, dancing in the wind.

        ♦ An engagement ring; incredibly simple but incredibly elegant. Its a single, yellowed diamond cut in the radiant style on a golden band. It is paired with a gold wedding band, engraved with the country's blessing.

    Strengths:
        ♦ Patience
        ♦ Wisdom
        ♦ Determination/Resolve
        ♦ Combat

    Weaknesses:
        ♦ Desire to Please
        ♦ Character Judgment
        ♦ True Confidence
        ♦ Hiding Things in Sarcasm

    Likes:
        ♦ The smell of the air after a thunder storm
        ♦ Salted caramel
        ♦ A good arm chair and a book
        ♦ Walks in the forest

    Dislikes:
        ♦ A starless night
        ♦ Whispering
        ♦ Mirrors
        ♦ People who are fake

    Personality: Fallon's character is as beautiful as her visage in the simplest and most classic ways. She is respectable and admired by many that encounter her; there's an undeniable and irresistible charm. Her intelligence is reflected in her pensive and appropriately timed wit. Yet, the confidence it implies is not truly there. She leads constantly thinking of what others are expecting of her. She rarely consults her own judgment, which is generally better for the mere fact that she is objective and well informed. The Queen at least considers all options before creating an ultimate decision. She never acts in haste, and in that way she saves herself from making a devastating decision.
    When alone, she feels completely free. There is not a single thing that burdens her or binds her to her position that she admittedly abhors holding. She'd rather be wandering the fields of her country, genuinely experiencing the warmth of her people as she did so many years ago. Her heart belongs to them, and that is why she can remain sane.


    History: Fallon was raised as the sole heir of the Grem dynasty which had ruled over Agnilar for five centuries prosperously. Her father, Markus, could not hide his discontent about the line dying with him, but he bore no ill will towards his wife nor his daughter. He loved them both eternally because they brought him every happiness in the world. The situation truly exemplified his general character: he would make the best out of any negative situation, and love the outcome regardless of what it represented. This very quality was what caused Fallon's mother to fall in love with the intellectual Crown Prince of Agnilar. Katerina was a passive woman whose beauty out-spoke her well-tempered personality. She hardly uttered a word to anyone, rarely voicing an opinion until she laid eyes on Markus. After seeing him, she knew she wanted nothing less in life than to be locked within his arms. The best part of it all? She didn't even meet him initially as a prince. They met at a small dance held in one of the larger villages in Agnilar held at her house. Markus arrived under the guise of being a visiting noblemen son's from Blythe with no intention of settling down soon, and left being completely enamored with the host's youngest daughter.

    They continued seeing each other under the assumed roles until an invitation to the palace revealed the truth of their situation: Katerina had fallen in love with the prince and had stolen his heart. They were quickly wed, both no older than twenty five. They spent years in marital bliss, the idea of ruling being far from their minds with the king still in his prime at the age of fifty-one. The only thing that plagued them was the inability to produce an heir. Katerina had unfortunately suffered several miscarriages, each with their own devastating mental and physical effects. It wouldn't be until ten years into their marriage where they were finally blessed with a healthy, beautiful child, Fallon; her name a play on the idea that she had been gift that had fallen from the gods.

    Fallon's childhood was blissful in spite of the fact that she was smothered by her parents and nurses. The entire kingdom was terrified of the idea of being without an heir and the queen's track record made them all nervous about the child's health, especially after they discovered she had yet to show any signs of being an amorphagus. Children with the trait tended to change randomly; uncontrollably. Eyes changing hue ever so often, hair dancing between all the colors under the sun; it was common practice. Fallon however was incredibly plain and remained that way. Her eyes were the only bit of promise; a startling, sky-blue. However, in spite of all the worrying, the King had finally felt like he could pass on the torch to his eldest son. With an heir, capable of continuing the line or not, the Crowned Ruler was at ease with the entire situation to the point where after the coronation he passed in his sleep.

    The princess's childhood flashed by under the protection of a veil and in the shadows of the garden walls. Fallon loathed her existence. She was read stories of children who played and had wild adventures and found it incredibly unfair that she could have none of her own. Her nurses and parents assured her that it was all so she could rule a country of her own one day. That explanation was all she needed to hate her future prospects. She wanted a life; she wanted freedom. At the age of nine, she began plotting her escape. Not a permanent one, just for a few hours every once and while. She longed for the world that she was learning about. As she grew older, the escape attempts became more common and more complex to the point where people did not even notice she was gone.

    Her parents blamed the entire series of events on her teachers for placing the fanciful ideas in her head and for being too incompetent to keep track of the little eleven year old. They proceeded to hire several other teachers only to fire them weeks later. The princess did feel slightly guilty, but if it allowed her to keep wandering the city, she would bear it. At least, she bore the experience until she met Lorian. She was immediately drawn to the tall blonde for reasons a little girl could never really put a finger on until she was older. He was beautiful though; an unspeakable charm exuded from his entire personality. He paraded her across the gardens and through the castle, teaching her things a man of his age should have never known or understood.

    They spent five years, entwined in that blissful reality. At the age of sixteen, many princesses begin a different kind of education in courtly behavior. Also, any Crowned heir begins to learn about the principles of governing. Needless to say, Lorian became unnecessary. For their final class, Lorian snuck Fallon outside of the castle with him and out into the fields with a simple sack of food and a blanket. They sat and talked for hours; he allowed her to ask whatever she wanted to know of him.

    "Will you miss me?" Fallon asked tentatively, rolling over onto her stomach to look at him, the tedious veil she was known for laying in the grass.
    "You do realize how stupid of a question that is to ask. It's almost a waste of one!" He chided through a bright smile.
    "No, I need to - I want to know!"
    "Of course, I'll miss you Fallon. You've become more than a student; you're a friend I'll sorely miss. The idea of anyone else having you doesn't seem right..." He pulled himself off the ground, kissing her gently on her forehead before beginning to laugh. "So the rumors are true, an amorphagus can change colors under exhilarating circumstances." Fallon blushed furiously, unsure of what it all meant. "I'm going to let you find your way back, it's about time someone graced you with that privilege." He murmured, giving her a final fleeting kiss on the lips before standing up and disappearing.

    Fallon quickly wound her way back to the castle. leaving the veil behind, unwilling to believe that he would disappear without his things; Lorian had to be in his room, packing - doing something! However, when she arrived, she could hardly make her way through the back corridor without being stopped by the guards and dragged to the throne room in front of her parents. The guards were insistent upon a a kidnapping theory, that was shoddily put into action; the green hair and purple eyes looked nothing like the princess and everyone knew she couldn't alter her traits. The rest of the girl was a dead match though. Katerina and Markus both couldn't help but laugh much to the horror of their daughter. The King and Queen quickly called off the guards, and happily embraced their daughter only to have her break down in their arms as she reverted to her usual appearance.

    The rest of her life passed by without real exhilaration. She met her husband at the age of twenty. Fallon loved him although it was not a passionate love; she doubted she would ever experience that again. In the King of Agnilar she found a friend, a loyal and trusting friend but not a lover. She wondered if he ever realized the reality of their relationship; the impenetrableness of her soul. Her parents would crown the two of them as the new rulers on Fallon's twenty-third birthday, the Queen already expecting her first child. Her parents took to wandering the country, always appearing around the holidays. They were determined to help whoever they could in whatever way was feasible.

    The Queen loved both of her children, Orion and Echo who surprisingly arrived three years later. They were both healthy, and so full of promise. Orion as a younger child was honestly adorable, his heart's loyalties were boundless; he cared for everything and everyone as a proper prince should. As he grew older, Fallon watched as the weight of his title slowly corrupted that beautiful innocence and created a soldier fit to stand among the ranks of Gamberyl or Themron's best. She regretted it, practically blaming herself for the entire thing. She should have intervened but at the time there was too much going on; a great deal of the crops had been wiped out due to a flash flood. Echo, on the other hand, seemed to thrive and flourish to an extent her parents were almost incapable of controlling. Fallon admittedly found it inspiring that she could have such spirit in such a miserable, confining palace... but as her husband suggested, something to calm her would be a valuable tool. They enlisted her in marksman lessons; a brilliant plan.

    As mentioned before, her life truly passed without any true exhilaration. That's not entirely true; recently, plots of betrayal have emerged among the nations forcing the Queen to take shelter in Gamberyl. She has no idea what is to come, or what it means for people. She just wants it to end so that she can return to her regimented lifestyle.


    Other: The Queen has never been able to forget Lorian, and she still dreams of finding him one day. He taught her everything she deems valuable in such a way that his lessons now define her. He secretly taught her how to fight when everyone thought she was too frail to even pull the string on a bow. He taught her how to feel, what to value, and how to love. It was all as fleeting as the cherry blossom in bloom though.. it could never be permanent.

    Played By: Falling Mist

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