Testing Baybeh! No posting please!

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
~!~~!~~!~~!~~!~


Pleased to meet you, my name is Stephan Alestor Esme Leandre, but you can call me Stephan, Leon or Lestor if you’d like. I'm a whole whopping Eighteen years old and I was born on September 26th. I’m a lovely Dill pickle and I totally go for the other dill pickles. That makes me a little bit well…um…Gay…But Shhhhh!.

> >[x]__A few things you might like to know about me... < <

Let’s start from the beginning. That’s always a good place to start. I was born on the twenty sixth of September, at the butt crack of dawn in some little Po-dunk town in Louisiana. My mum and dad, had been on vacation, traveling across the United States when I was conceived, and they never made it back to England in time for my birth. Yay for me. I was brought into this world, completely silent. Not a good thing for a baby, and scared the doctors for sure, but once the gunk was cleared out of my lungs, I screamed my little head off. No worries. My mum vowed that I would be the last of her children, and she was right. So far I am the last out of five brothers. Lovely, isn’t it? Not really, but I’m biased so what do I know? As soon as mum felt up to it, we flew back to England so I could meet my brothers. That was a fun reunion apparently. My dad would always tell me stories of how I positively drove my brothers crazy with my screaming and crying, constantly spitting up on them and being generally naughty for a one month old baby. I was colicky, sue me!

I grew up in a family who valued education above all else. Mum always wanted to make sure that all of her children at least had a high school education, and if she could help it, a good college education. None of my brothers really fought it, though for some time my third and fourth older brothers were home schooled because of severe bullying. My oldest and second oldest brothers were already in their last few years of high school by the time I was starting pre-school, so they couldn’t really help my other brothers. Home schooling eventually became just the way we were schooled, at least through grade school. That was probably for the best in my case. I had, fortunately or unfortunately, take it how you want it, gained my mothers sort of feminine physique. Short, slender and a girly face (according to my brothers). One can only imagine how many times I would have been attacked on the playground if I had gone to public school. Well, bullying was a small part of my middle school education, but not like my brothers, thankfully. Living with four older brothers and a father who believed that a boy needed to be able to defend himself in any situation toughened me up. So by my second year of middle school I didn’t need to worry about bullying anymore.

By the time I started high school, all of my brothers were done with high school and starting work or college or traveling somewhere. In a way I was angry for them just up and leaving. Why? Because it left me to put up with my mother’s constant badgering of ‘do your homework!’. But I guess it was inevitable. It was in the end of middle school that I started to play music. At first, mum and dad weren’t sure about the idea. Mum was too afraid that It would distract me from my other studies, and dad was afraid it would turn me into some ‘Nancy poof’. I eventually won them over (with whining and begging of course) and mum let me start piano. Now that wasn’t my first choice mind you, I wanted to start off with drums, or something else. But I had to compromise. If I could balance bother piano and school work without letting my grades drop, mum would let me drop piano and start something else. So piano it was, and I actually enjoyed it. I started off playing lullabies and smaller songs before working my way up like any normal student. I started singing a little bit after learning some of the lullabies, and I was actually pretty good. Natural ability I suppose. Mum joked that she should have another kid, just so I could play the lullabies and sing them to sleep. Dad didn’t like my singing, just because he thought I wasn’t being ‘manly enough’. After the piano and successfully keeping my grades up, I picked up guitar. I actually struggled in guitar, a lot actually, and I almost gave it up until I managed to play a whole song once, without messing it up. I think it was ‘pop goes the weasel’ or something like that. Needless to say I was a proud fourteen year old.

After that I formed a little band with some of the guys in my music class, and we were pretty good. Certainly not the best, but not the worst either. We played at the school ball and we even got a gig at some little café. We never got scouted however, and the band eventually broke apart through various reasons, mine being that I wasn’t paying as much attention to my school work. I did however skip a grade and manage to get into Oxford University at the age of seventeen because of exceptional grades and impressing the Headmaster. It was right before I got into Oxford that I found my band. We came together and immediately hit it off. At sixteen I managed to get together a kick-a** band and managed to get scouted. It was difficult, balancing full time school work and full time band practice sessions, and eventually I couldn’t take it anymore, and I dropped out of Oxford. My parents, furious that I had picked something that may not even make it, over oxford University and a chance at a real future, quit speaking to me. I was hurt, but dead set in my decision to go full time musician. During that time, a whole lot of s**t happened. You know the stereotypical crazy pot smoking, model dating rock star? That’s what I became. I hooked up with a model for a short time, before dumping her, then was arrested for carrying a two bags full of pot, and served a two week jail sentence.

During my jail sentence I started to really think things over. I had a full year of doing nothing by partying. Drugs, chicks that I wasn’t satisfied with, rocking out with my mates…Seemed like the dream life, and all I could think was ‘look where it’s gotten me’. It was like an epiphany, I s**t you not. I felt that this little time behind bars was supposed to be my wake up call and that I needed to get my act together. So, as soon as I was out, I checked into rehab, determined to wash away all my wrong doings (along with getting clean from the pot…). I was also determined to figure out why the hell I was losing interest in women. Not just the annoying groupies who are only after your fame, or the loose women who throw themselves at you with abandon. But women all together. It had been why I broke up with my model girlfriend (apart from her habit of drinking herself into a stupor). What guy, in their right mind, would give up a girl who looked like she had?! Well I can tell you! Stupid guys and gay guys. I was pretty sure I wasn’t stupid, if my old report cards and IQ were anything to go by, so it had to be the other. I even did a little experiment, shortly after I broke up with the model. I compared and contrasted girls to guys. Yes, it’s stupid, but I was frustrated, give me a break. I found that the guys seriously out weight the girls on the pro’s list. From that point on I was in denial and struggled to come to some sort of acceptance about the fact that I might be, no. That I am gay.

I would say that I’m a nice guy…but then again, I’m in rehab because I couldn’t keep myself under control, so that’s my biased opinion. But seriously, I’m not a very nasty person. Sure I have my bad moods every once in a while, and my times when I’m so frustrated that I either want to hit something or cry. But what person doesn’t have days like that? Nah, I’m a pretty chill, generally nice person. I’ll help if I’m needed and I’ll listen to people if they have problems that I think I can help with. I like to sit back and watch things unfold in front of me, rather than get into the middle of it and be apart of what’s happening. Call me lazy. I like to think I’m just observant. I like to watch people around me, and I do tend to make judgments on people based on how they interact with other people. Normally they aren’t bad ones, since I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it’s just a bad day, or they aren’t feeling well, who knows. I’m not going to make sound judgments on people till I get to really know them well

I’m not very confrontational so I don‘t often start fights. But when I do, their most likely to be verbal fights with the occasional punch or slap. I’m not going to get into a brawl with someone, but I do know how to defend myself. Living with four older brothers does that to a person. I do have moments when I get so frustrated with myself that I’ll lock myself away in a room (or a closet, or a bathroom stall, whatever that has a lock on the door) and just grip my hair till I scream…or cry, whatever comes first. It’s pent up stress that hasn’t been released till now. I tend to get a little…snippy with people, when I get like this. So It’s best to just avoid me for those times, unless you think you can calm me down some how. I will, I repeat, I will, punch you in the face if you try and force me to accept my being gay. I’ve always done things at my own pace, and I am not about to change that.

> >[x]__What I like and what I don’t < <

Things I like…oh boy, um…okay. I like thunderstorms. I’m used to it raining all the time, and I think thunderstorms are so amazing. I love the power behind the thunder and how sometimes you can feel the thunder shake the ground under your feet. Shaved Ices are delicious. I had one at the fair and I’ve loved them ever since. Music. I will listen to anything and everything. Country, rap, rock, pop, electronica, anything. I like to play the piano, just cause it relaxes me. Long showers are always nice. Cats are wonderful animals. I used to have this big fat grey one back at my parents house, and we called him Mc Fatness. Yes, my brothers and I were very creative. People touching my hair. I don’t know why, but playing with my hair, running your fingers through it. Anything, it just feels nice. Soft things. I just like soft materials, what person doesn’t? Sleeping in late. And when I say late, I mean really late, like three in the afternoon late. Guys…though I’m not one to really admit it out loud. But if I see a guy with a nice a**, or a cute face, you better believe that I’m making comments in my head about him.

Things I don’t like…hmm…Well I don’t like migraines. I get too many of them as it is, and their really painful! Being called ‘feminine’. I swear, it’s enough to make me want to shave my hair off and try to grow a mustache…Being snuck up on. My brothers used to come up behind me and grab my sides, so now I am forever flinchy. RLS, or restless leg syndrome. Especially in the middle of the night when I’m trying to sleep. Getting sick. I hate having to deal with a stuffy nose, feeling like I’m gonna throw up every five seconds, and I hate how I always get high fevers! Being cold. I get cold very easily. So if you see me walking around with a sweater on and it’s eighty something in the room, you’ll know why. Having my eyes covered. It’s unnerving and it throws off my sense of balance. Crying. Not cause I think it’s un-manly or something, but because I just don’t like the feeling of being that open with my emotions. Talking in front of a group of people. I either start talking to quickly, or I stumble over my words and I start trembling really badly. Having the wind knocked out of me. I hate that feeling so much, the feeling of suffocating and being unable to breathe for that split second.

I don’t have a whole bunch of fears…the main ones are being completely ostracized if I do finally come out of the closet about my sexuality; Losing my hands in some sort of accident; and losing my eyesight. Other than that, I’m terrified of clowns and most horror movies except the saw movies and old horror movies.

> >[x]__In my ears. < <

Hawk Nelson - Friend Like that
Red - Already over
Keith Anderson - Pickin' Wildflowers
American Hi-Fi - The art of Losing
The last Goodbye - Stay Beautiful
Gomez - How we Operate
The Spill Canvas - All over you
P.O.D - Goodbye for Now


You might like to know I live with PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

☆☆ ✖Stephan Alestor Esme Leandre✖ ☆☆

Turn it on, turn it on, turn it on again
Make it strong, sing your song to the very end
Cause tonight we're alive and breathin'
Can you hear me, everyone near me

The lump currently curled up on the bed, fast asleep, attempted to ignore the light trying to seep into the room through the curtains, turning this way and that, but never getting completely away from the annoying light. He even tried to yank the covers up over his head. But when he found he couldn’t breath, he changed tactics and tried to bury his head in between the pillows. Once again, annoyingly enough, he still couldn’t breath. The lump groaned and in a final act of defiance, tossed one of his pillows up at the window, as if that would turn out the light. No, it only ended up pushing the curtain back, letting the light into his room even more. He drew in air between clenched teeth and gave a sleepy growl. He would really need to find some tape, so he could tape the curtains closed and too the wall, so no light would get in. Maybe he could ask for some black out curtains?

With that thought in mind, the lump on the bed uncurled itself and struggled to push the body under the covers into a sitting position. The covers fell back in the process, revealing a disheveled boy, by the name of Stephan Delacroix. Instead of actually sitting up like a normal person, he ended up in some sort of yoga position, with his legs stretched out behind him and his upper body hoisted into the air, held aloft with his arms and hands. He let out a whine while his spine popped due to the foreign position, only to push his lower body up and lower his upper body down to the mattress. His lower back let out a series of pops and Stephan sighed. He swore he had been a cat in a past life. Did any other person stretch like he did? Probably not, but that wasn’t important. Giving a great yawn, Stephan sat back on his heals and looked around the dismal room. It was annoyingly clean. There wasn’t much in his room -he hadn’t been able to bring much with him- but it did have the essentials that he needed. Like his keyboard. As a piano player -as a hobby, not professional- It had nearly killed him to try and leave it behind, so he chose to take it with him as a last minute decision. He had been asked to leave his guitar with his band mates unfortunately, but he’d rather have his keyboard with him in this ******** up place.

He grimaced as he was reminded just exactly where he was. Rehab. Full with druggies, alcoholics and a whole bunch of other freaks with problems that needed to get fixed. Like his. Heh, well wasn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black. Oh well, he was here by choice. He wanted to get clean. If he didn’t, he would have to walk around the rest of his life as a sinner. Quickly pushing the dismal thought away, Stephan slipped off the bed, nearly getting his right foot tangled in the sheets and falling over in the process. He quickly righted himself, stuck his tongue out at the bed and meandered lazily into the bathroom for a shower. He stripped out of his boxers and sleep shirt, and quickly turned the hot water on. When it was nearly scalding, he got in, sighing while the hot water relaxed and woke up his sleeping muscles. He scrubbed his body clean, then washed his hair and face, before getting out twenty minutes later. Hey, he liked his long showers, plus, now no one could say that he didn’t clean himself properly.

Once he stepped out of the shower, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, then used another to dry his hair. He padded out back into his room and paused for a moment, letting the much cooler air wash over him, before he moved to get dressed. He dropped the towel around his waist, in favor of some plain white cotton boxers. Still rubbing his damp hair with the towel, he pulled out a pair of faded jeans and a grey wife-beater and slipped them on. If he knew how the weather was be, judging from how it had been since he’d gotten to the rehab center, her knew it would be warm. Yawning slightly, he tugged the towel off his head, bent over and shook his head quickly, before standing up right again. He fingered his hair into place, content to let his hair air dry. He released a sigh, flopping back down onto the bed while he debated if he should go wander around or just stay in here. Glancing at the window, he frowned. He could go outside he supposed, just wander about a little bit. It was better than just laying around in his room like a slug all day.

Making up his mind, Stephan shifted and pushed himself up, quickly grabbing the key to his room and his I-pod, before leaving the room. He glanced around while he pushed the small ear buds into his ears. He could already hear some of the rehab’s occupants getting up and moving around, some coming out of their rooms and walking down the hall or going into other rooms. He moved back, leaning slightly against the wall while he turned the music device on, and scrolled through the list’s upon list’s of music, till he came across the right band. He grinned as P.O.D’s ‘Goodbye for now’ came through the tiny speakers and flooded his ears. He suddenly realized just how cold his feet were and he glanced down and blinked, letting out a sigh. He’d forgotten shoes. He glanced to his right at his door and debated if he wanted to go in and get the cheep flip flops or just brave the halls and out doors bear footed. He sang under his breath, curling his toes so they popped. He never sang, really sang, in a place so crowded like the halls, not here. If he was in a stadium, or some place like that, sure, he’d belt out any tune. But not here.

"I walk around in the same haze
I'm still caught in my same ways
I'm losing time in these strange days
but somehow I always know
the right things to say

I don't know what time it is
or whose the one to blame for this
Do what I believe what I can't see
And how do you know
which way the wind blows

Cause I can feel it all around
I'm lost between the sound
And just when I think
I know, there she goes…"

Turn it on, turn it on, turn it on again
Don't turn it off, cause this feeling doesn't have to end
I want to be, where you are, please take me
Just take me, shake me

☆☆ ✖Love,drugs,rock&roll! Love,drugs,rock&roll!✖ ☆☆

xxxxxx

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

-- >>----------------------------- Christina Isabella Paige Duncan
----------------------• The The Get Away Driver

I WAS BORN A PMS-ing female ON The 26th of September
OF COURSE MY PARENTS WERE ON CRACK!
SO CALL ME Tina || Izzy || Chris || Bells || Breakneck
I’VE LiVED seventeen YEARS
AND NOW I‘M BEiNG RECRUiTED TO THE S.P.Y PROGRAM BECAUSE OF MY
Apparently S.P.Y needs a grease monkey in their program. I know cars like the back of my hand. I’ve been around them since I was a toddler and know how to drive them like nobodies business. I can pretty much drive anything, and when I say anything, I mean anything. Helicopters, construction vehicles, tractors, stick shift, automatic, motorcycles, anything. Being around mechanics all my life, I know a bunch of stuff that most girls don’t know about. Then again, those prissy girls probably know more about hair and manicures than I do, so who am I to talk?

----------- >>-♥♥-----------------I’M GOiNG TO HELL
Being raised by a single father is drastically different than being raised by a mother and father. Of course, little Christina Isabella wouldn’t know the difference. It wouldn’t matter to her. Her father attempted to raise her up as a ‘normal’ little girl. He attempted to give her Barbie dolls to play with and dress up clothes. He tried to fill her room full of the colors pink, purple, and white lace. Ah, but being raised by a man, a man who would tell her about any bugs she saw, let her play in the dirt and make mud pies, and wrestle with the young boys next door, the girl would have none of that. Instead, she wanted her room filled with dinosaurs and ant farms, various sports equipment, sea-monkeys, and toy race cars. Certainly not the typical little girl her father had been aiming for. But he loved her none the less. He let her play sports. Soccer and T-ball was her favorite, and whenever she could, she would slide to home base, just to get dirt and grass stains on her clothes. She had no problems with the little bugs she would sometimes find inside her room, and even go as far as to save them from a rather squishy death whenever her father tried to step on them. She would pick up grass-snakes and the dead cicada shell that was left on the side of her house. She used to know the names of all the dinosaurs, and she would even watch the Jurassic Park movies with her dad. She had no interest what’s so ever in the ‘frilly-froo-froo’ stuff other girls were interested in. She didn’t get along with the girls in her class, and instead would play freeze tag and dodge ball with the boys. She was a true tomboy.

It wasn’t until she was eleven, that problems started happening. We’ve all heard the expression ‘Children can be cruel’ right? It certainly seemed true in this situation. While it was true that Christina Isabella spent more time with the boys than the girls, it wasn’t completely from choice. She had tried on several occasions to spend time with the girls her age, but as they say, children can be cruel. Because of her ‘weird’ likes and dislikes, the girls her age isolated her completely. Whenever she would try and hand out with them, they would let her and then ditch her. They would sometimes lock her in the janitor’s closet at school. Needless to say, things weren’t exactly happy during her younger years

Of course, that was nothing compared to when her father died. Even now, she can remember the day it happened. She had been in homeroom, and the school’s principle had come in and pulled her out of class. See, Her father was a construction worker and had been working on a project for the past three weeks, building a seven story parking garage for the airport. Apparently, they had been putting a beam into place and it had swung and knocked her father from his perch, six stories up, to the ground below. A co-worker rushed her to the hospital. It was there that her father died of internal injuries and head trauma too severe for the doctors to help. Christina Isabella temporarily lived with her next door neighbors, till child cervices attempted to bring her into the adoption agency. That was when things got hard. Unwilling to be taken away from her home, to live with her godfather, whom she had only met once or twice, Christina Isabella made a run for it. She managed to evade the child cervices, and even the cops. How? By somehow worming her way into one of the little street racing gang’s that riddled the city of Dallas. No one was sure how she managed to get into that group, but it seemed that the leader of the small gang took a shine to her, and sort of became her older brother in a sense. She him Ash, just because he didn’t like people using his full name. She stayed with that little gang for a good three years.

It was while she was in that gang, that she found her love for all things that had a motor in it. Ash taught her how to hot wire a car, and even how to drive one, how to drag race, touge race, cannonball race and drift, letting her practice on one of the cars they had taken. As she grew up, she even drove a get away car for them, much to Ash’s annoyance. As the only girl in the gang (not to mention the youngest), he didn’t want her to have any part in the goings on’s of gang life. And true to concerned-big-brother form, he would scold her and attempt to ‘ground’ her whenever she participated in a race without his permission. To keep her from going on jobs, Ash continued to teach her about the in’s and out’s of the cars they took and fixed up. He taught her about the inner workings of engine, to the significance of the water pump and how to change the oil and spark plugs. She loved it, every part of it. However, her time with Ash came to an abrupt end when the cops busted them in the middle of a race. Ash managed to escape with Christina Isabella in tow. They hid out in one of Ash’s friend’s house, and had to start all over again. She was fifteen then.

Ash’s friend owned a busy body shop and car repair center, and both Christina Isabella and Ash picked up work there. Ash continued to teach her how to work under the hood of a car, and she continued to learn. During that time, Christina Isabella started to race cars. She had just gotten her license and Ash had bought her a newly rebuilt 1968 ford mustang fastback, and been out on a late night joy ride. She was stopped at a stoplight when some guy in a street car pulled up next to her and challenged her to a race. After having nearly been busted by the cops before, Christina was leery of stirring up any trouble, but, when he revved his engine, he competitive streak kicked in and they raced. And won. After that, she continued to race, at first without telling Ash. However when he caught her coming back to the shop with her car scraped up, she had to tell him. While he wasn’t happy about it, concerned for her safety and concerned that she would get caught.

Shortly after she got back into the whole racing scene, She was sent a letter from some organization. At first she was horrified, thinking she was in some trouble and going to prison. But when she opened the letter and found she was accepted into S.P.Y, she was more confused. She showed it to Ash and he immediately told her to go, that she needed to go. Confused, but trusting Ash and his judgment, she went.

----------->>-♥♥-----------------WHAT I LET YOU SEE
Okay, what do you want from me? My personality? What, you need me to tell you how I am, are you that unobservant? Whatever. If you can’t tell by now, I’m not the most…open person. I don’t like to talk about myself. It seems that whenever I do, I somehow manage to open old wounds. Best to just avoid it all together. Now, don’t get me wrong. If you ask me a question, I’ll answer you, unless I feel the question’s touching a little to close to home - Ah, but that’s getting us off to a bad start isn’t it? Let me start over, with the better aspects that I have…or so I’m told.

I am a helpful person, or at least I try to be. I like to help people, I hate feeling like I‘m just useless and in the way. Living in with Ash and the rest of the guys for as long as I did, taught me a little bit about cooperation and teamwork. I don‘t think that one person can do everything on their own. Eventually, there is going to come a time, that someone is going to need help, that’s what I always say. So when someone asks for my help, I’ll help if I can. Of course, there’s a drawback to my own belief, and that is that I hate to ask help from other people. I have a specific way of doing things, that If anyone else tries to do them, I’m never going to be satisfied. So, I’ll help others, but I don’t ask, or accept help from other people unless I have absolutely no other choice. I’m extremely tough. I’m not going to break, or have a mental break down if I get dirt or grease on my new jeans. I certainly have no problem getting down and dirty when the need calls for it. I’m certainly not some little girly girl, by any means. I can throw punches too. I’ve been told that I’m a very determined person. Of course, some would excuse that for stubbornness, but I think they go hand in hand. I finish what I start, even if it takes me a while. I don’t give up and I’m very driven to prove myself to people. I’m extremely

Speaking of which, most people don’t think I’m much. And believe me, my looks are misleading. I am very set in my ways, and I’m not about to let somebody change my opinions on things. And anyone who tries, I’m going to ignore. I’m a pretty laid-back girl. I don’t get to worked up over many things. There are a few things that do push my buttons and grind on my last nerve, but I won’t go into those here. I try not to let too much get to me, so if I come off uncaring, or cold, I’m just trying to keep myself from getting angry. I tend to keep people at arms length, It’s just easier that way. That way, if they leave, your not so sad about it. I guess it’s my defense mechanism. My sarcastic wit is another defense mechanism. If I start getting overly sarcastic, it’s because I’m uncomfortable. I’m highly competitive. Why? Just a side effect of basically growing up with boys. I like to win and I try my hardest to win whatever I’m competing in, be it an argument, a fight, a race, or even a video game. I admit, it’s not one of my best features. Luckily, I’ve never been a sore loser, or winner for that matter. One more thing, I don’t cry. I just don’t. It’s not what I do. If I cry, I’m showing weakness to those around me, and I’m not about to do that. I think the last time I cried was when my dad died. After that, I’ve kept my tears to myself.

So there you go, psycho analyze me all you want.

TAKE IT FROM ME-------------------------♥♥<<
-] Cars
-] Street Racing
-] Coco-puffs
-] Old home in Dallas with Ash
-] Good action movies
-] Thunderstorms
-] Standing in the rain
-] Working on a car and getting dirty
-] Sitting on a roof and relaxing
-] Just hanging with the guys

KiLL iT------------------------------♥♥<<
-] Asking for help
-] Answering personal questions
-] Pushy guys
-] Cars that sound like sowing machines
-] Being in the way
-] The anniversaries of my parents deaths
-] Getting distracted while working on a car
-] The color pink
-] Being cold
-] ‘Like’ and ‘dislike’ are a little to black and white. I don’t really ‘like’ any of my team mates, but I ‘get along’ with pretty much all of them. But…Mister two-face (The Chameleon) as I call him get on my last nerve. The little jerk get’s off on psycho analyzing people. I’ll give him something to analyze, my car running over his head!

i CAN’T STAND ---------------- Losing Ash
------------------------------ Getting killed in a car wreck
------------------------------ Winding up completely and utterly alone.

I’VE GoT A CoUPLE TRADE MARKS Three ON MY lower back, inside my left ankle, in my right palm

AND EVEN THOUGH iT’s CLiCHE i’VE GoT two PiERCiNGS iN MY earlobes

ALL THATS LEFT iS ME ------- >>
I‘ve got a thing for animals. I love animals, cats and horses in particular. Hell, I‘ve got ‘Mustang’ tattooed across my lower back.

-------------------------♥♥PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

-- >>----------------------------- Christina Isabella Paige Duncan
----------------------• The The Get Away Driver

I WAS BORN A PMS-ing female ON The 26th of September
OF COURSE MY PARENTS WERE ON CRACK!
SO CALL ME Tina || Izzy || Chris || Bells || Breakneck
I’VE LiVED seventeen YEARS
AND NOW I‘M BEiNG RECRUiTED TO THE S.P.Y PROGRAM BECAUSE OF MY
Apparently S.P.Y needs a grease monkey in their program. I know cars like the back of my hand. I’ve been around them since I was a toddler and know how to drive them like nobodies business. I can pretty much drive anything, and when I say anything, I mean anything. Helicopters, construction vehicles, tractors, stick shift, automatic, motorcycles, anything. Being around mechanics all my life, I know a bunch of stuff that most girls don’t know about. Then again, those prissy girls probably know more about hair and manicures than I do, so who am I to talk?

----------- >>-♥♥-----------------I’M GOiNG TO HELL
Being raised by a single father is drastically different than being raised by a mother and father. Of course, little Christina Isabella wouldn’t know the difference. It wouldn’t matter to her. Her father attempted to raise her up as a ‘normal’ little girl. He attempted to give her Barbie dolls to play with and dress up clothes. He tried to fill her room full of the colors pink, purple, and white lace. Ah, but being raised by a man, a man who would tell her about any bugs she saw, let her play in the dirt and make mud pies, and wrestle with the young boys next door, the girl would have none of that. Instead, she wanted her room filled with dinosaurs and ant farms, various sports equipment, sea-monkeys, and toy race cars. Certainly not the typical little girl her father had been aiming for. But he loved her none the less. He let her play sports. Soccer and T-ball was her favorite, and whenever she could, she would slide to home base, just to get dirt and grass stains on her clothes. She had no problems with the little bugs she would sometimes find inside her room, and even go as far as to save them from a rather squishy death whenever her father tried to step on them. She would pick up grass-snakes and the dead cicada shell that was left on the side of her house. She used to know the names of all the dinosaurs, and she would even watch the Jurassic Park movies with her dad. She had no interest what’s so ever in the ‘frilly-froo-froo’ stuff other girls were interested in. She didn’t get along with the girls in her class, and instead would play freeze tag and dodge ball with the boys. She was a true tomboy.

It wasn’t until she was eleven, that problems started happening. We’ve all heard the expression ‘Children can be cruel’ right? It certainly seemed true in this situation. While it was true that Christina Isabella spent more time with the boys than the girls, it wasn’t completely from choice. She had tried on several occasions to spend time with the girls her age, but as they say, children can be cruel. Because of her ‘weird’ likes and dislikes, the girls her age isolated her completely. Whenever she would try and hand out with them, they would let her and then ditch her. They would sometimes lock her in the janitor’s closet at school. Needless to say, things weren’t exactly happy during her younger years

Of course, that was nothing compared to when her father died. Even now, she can remember the day it happened. She had been in homeroom, and the school’s principle had come in and pulled her out of class. See, Her father was a construction worker and had been working on a project for the past three weeks, building a seven story parking garage for the airport. Apparently, they had been putting a beam into place and it had swung and knocked her father from his perch, six stories up, to the ground below. A co-worker rushed her to the hospital. It was there that her father died of internal injuries and head trauma too severe for the doctors to help. Christina Isabella temporarily lived with her next door neighbors, till child cervices attempted to bring her into the adoption agency. That was when things got hard. Unwilling to be taken away from her home, to live with her godfather, whom she had only met once or twice, Christina Isabella made a run for it. She managed to evade the child cervices, and even the cops. How? By somehow worming her way into one of the little street racing gang’s that riddled the city of Dallas. No one was sure how she managed to get into that group, but it seemed that the leader of the small gang took a shine to her, and sort of became her older brother in a sense. She him Ash, just because he didn’t like people using his full name. She stayed with that little gang for a good three years.

It was while she was in that gang, that she found her love for all things that had a motor in it. Ash taught her how to hot wire a car, and even how to drive one, how to drag race, touge race, cannonball race and drift, letting her practice on one of the cars they had taken. As she grew up, she even drove a get away car for them, much to Ash’s annoyance. As the only girl in the gang (not to mention the youngest), he didn’t want her to have any part in the goings on’s of gang life. And true to concerned-big-brother form, he would scold her and attempt to ‘ground’ her whenever she participated in a race without his permission. To keep her from going on jobs, Ash continued to teach her about the in’s and out’s of the cars they took and fixed up. He taught her about the inner workings of engine, to the significance of the water pump and how to change the oil and spark plugs. She loved it, every part of it. However, her time with Ash came to an abrupt end when the cops busted them in the middle of a race. Ash managed to escape with Christina Isabella in tow. They hid out in one of Ash’s friend’s house, and had to start all over again. She was fifteen then.

Ash’s friend owned a busy body shop and car repair center, and both Christina Isabella and Ash picked up work there. Ash continued to teach her how to work under the hood of a car, and she continued to learn. During that time, Christina Isabella started to race cars. She had just gotten her license and Ash had bought her a newly rebuilt 1968 ford mustang fastback, and been out on a late night joy ride. She was stopped at a stoplight when some guy in a street car pulled up next to her and challenged her to a race. After having nearly been busted by the cops before, Christina was leery of stirring up any trouble, but, when he revved his engine, he competitive streak kicked in and they raced. And won. After that, she continued to race, at first without telling Ash. However when he caught her coming back to the shop with her car scraped up, she had to tell him. While he wasn’t happy about it, concerned for her safety and concerned that she would get caught.

Shortly after she got back into the whole racing scene, She was sent a letter from some organization. At first she was horrified, thinking she was in some trouble and going to prison. But when she opened the letter and found she was accepted into S.P.Y, she was more confused. She showed it to Ash and he immediately told her to go, that she needed to go. Confused, but trusting Ash and his judgment, she went.

----------->>-♥♥-----------------WHAT I LET YOU SEE
Okay, what do you want from me? My personality? What, you need me to tell you how I am, are you that unobservant? Whatever. If you can’t tell by now, I’m not the most…open person. I don’t like to talk about myself. It seems that whenever I do, I somehow manage to open old wounds. Best to just avoid it all together. Now, don’t get me wrong. If you ask me a question, I’ll answer you, unless I feel the question’s touching a little to close to home - Ah, but that’s getting us off to a bad start isn’t it? Let me start over, with the better aspects that I have…or so I’m told.

I am a helpful person, or at least I try to be. I like to help people, I hate feeling like I‘m just useless and in the way. Living in with Ash and the rest of the guys for as long as I did, taught me a little bit about cooperation and teamwork. I don‘t think that one person can do everything on their own. Eventually, there is going to come a time, that someone is going to need help, that’s what I always say. So when someone asks for my help, I’ll help if I can. Of course, there’s a drawback to my own belief, and that is that I hate to ask help from other people. I have a specific way of doing things, that If anyone else tries to do them, I’m never going to be satisfied. So, I’ll help others, but I don’t ask, or accept help from other people unless I have absolutely no other choice. I’m extremely tough. I’m not going to break, or have a mental break down if I get dirt or grease on my new jeans. I certainly have no problem getting down and dirty when the need calls for it. I’m certainly not some little girly girl, by any means. I can throw punches too. I’ve been told that I’m a very determined person. Of course, some would excuse that for stubbornness, but I think they go hand in hand. I finish what I start, even if it takes me a while. I don’t give up and I’m very driven to prove myself to people. I’m extremely

Speaking of which, most people don’t think I’m much. And believe me, my looks are misleading. I am very set in my ways, and I’m not about to let somebody change my opinions on things. And anyone who tries, I’m going to ignore. I’m a pretty laid-back girl. I don’t get to worked up over many things. There are a few things that do push my buttons and grind on my last nerve, but I won’t go into those here. I try not to let too much get to me, so if I come off uncaring, or cold, I’m just trying to keep myself from getting angry. I tend to keep people at arms length, It’s just easier that way. That way, if they leave, your not so sad about it. I guess it’s my defense mechanism. My sarcastic wit is another defense mechanism. If I start getting overly sarcastic, it’s because I’m uncomfortable. I’m highly competitive. Why? Just a side effect of basically growing up with boys. I like to win and I try my hardest to win whatever I’m competing in, be it an argument, a fight, a race, or even a video game. I admit, it’s not one of my best features. Luckily, I’ve never been a sore loser, or winner for that matter. One more thing, I don’t cry. I just don’t. It’s not what I do. If I cry, I’m showing weakness to those around me, and I’m not about to do that. I think the last time I cried was when my dad died. After that, I’ve kept my tears to myself.

So there you go, psycho analyze me all you want.

TAKE IT FROM ME-------------------------♥♥<<
-] Cars
-] Street Racing
-] Coco-puffs
-] Old home in Dallas with Ash
-] Good action movies
-] Thunderstorms
-] Standing in the rain
-] Working on a car and getting dirty
-] Sitting on a roof and relaxing
-] Just hanging with the guys

KiLL iT------------------------------♥♥<<
-] Asking for help
-] Answering personal questions
-] Pushy guys
-] Cars that sound like sowing machines
-] Being in the way
-] The anniversaries of my parents deaths
-] Getting distracted while working on a car
-] The color pink
-] Being cold
-] ‘Like’ and ‘dislike’ are a little to black and white. I don’t really ‘like’ any of my team mates, but I ‘get along’ with pretty much all of them. But…Mister two-face (The Chameleon) as I call him get on my last nerve. The little jerk get’s off on psycho analyzing people. I’ll give him something to analyze, my car running over his head!

i CAN’T STAND ---------------- Losing Ash
------------------------------ Getting killed in a car wreck
------------------------------ Winding up completely and utterly alone.

I’VE GoT A CoUPLE TRADE MARKS Three ON MY lower back, inside my left ankle, in my right palm

AND EVEN THOUGH iT’s CLiCHE i’VE GoT two PiERCiNGS iN MY earlobes

ALL THATS LEFT iS ME ------- >>
I‘ve got a thing for animals. I love animals, cats and horses in particular. Hell, I‘ve got ‘Mustang’ tattooed across my lower back.

-------------------------♥♥PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

●● "Life is divine chaos. Embrace it. Forgive yourself. Breathe. And enjoy the ride." ●●

● the obvious

+The license says the name is [Tyler Nikolai Micheals]
+And I insist you call me [Ty, Nik, Nikolai] or [Boy Four].
+How many candles on the cake? [Seventeen]
+My favorite Holiday. [January 13th]
+I use the [boy’s]room.
+My hero. [Boy five].

● the apparent

+A proud [Brunette]
+I bat eyes of [Turquoise].
+In the year book. [}X { }X{ }X{ }X{ }X{ }X{]

● the story

Let’s get this show on the road! I was born January thirteenth, during a snow storm. Now you may think that doesn’t have any relevance to this story, but it does to me. If you read a little further down at my likes and dislikes, you’ll know why. Anyway, I was born to a young set of parents, Christina and Jasper Knowles. They were only twenty three and twenty seven at the time, too young to have kids in my opinion, but they thought they were ready. BZZZT! Wrong. Apparently I was a real handful when I was a toddler, and guess what? Whenever mommy and daddy couldn’t handle me, they shoved me off on my maternal grandparents. Certainly not as horrible as I make it sound, my grandparents are awesome! They spoil me to death, but isn’t that what grandparents are supposed to do? I think so. As I grew up, my grandparents finally had to put their foot down, and said that mom and dad really needed to take care of me, and that they wouldn’t always be there to just take me off their hands whenever they felt like it. Needless to say, mom and dad weren’t happy about not having their weekend to have fun and play, but they agreed and made themselves a much more prominent part in my life.

But enough of that. I grew up to be a normal boy. Well, normal isn’t exactly the best word to use for me. See, my family is strict, or at least my mom is. She obviously wears the pants in the family and she isn’t afraid to crack the whip when she thinks things are slipping out of their ‘natural order’. I step even a toe out of line, BAM, grounded for a month. Oh well, not much I can really do about it. I’m too nice to rebel. The same thing happens everyday. Get up, go to school, try to live through the drama that is high school, come home and sleep. Same old same old. Or at least, that’s what I like to tell myself.

Let me explain. See, I’ve got myself a kick a** group of friends. Normal right? Right. I‘ve liked girls for as long as I can remember. Normal for a teenage guy right? Right. Well, I’ve got a close friend of mine, Noah. A guy. Normal right? Right. Well, things are sort of changing, and I don’t think I like it. Girls aren’t as attractive anymore, and Noah is getting more and more attractive in that way. Not so normal…At least, not to me. I’m a Guy! Guy’s don’t like guys like that! ….Right?

● the method { behind the madness }

I’d say I’m a pretty decent guy. Some of my friends have told me that I’m ‘too nice’, but that’s how I was brought up! Courteous, polite, and decent. I open the door for people, I pull out a girls chair, buy them flowers, say please and thank you, and all of that stuff. It’s just how I was raised. By tough women (my mom and my grandma) who don’t have to try hard to whip their men into shape! I don’t have that much of a temper, but I do get overwhelmed at times. I sort of break down at that point. I try to keep myself away from that edge, but sometimes I get pushed there without even knowing it. I’m an accepting person and open-minded…for the most part. I don’t really know what I’m interested in doing. I think I know for about a week, and then it changes! It kinda worries me. If I’m going to go to college, I need to know what I want to do. Oh! A random fact. I‘m a klutz. I‘ll trip over air if I‘m not careful.

● the details

+Make me swoon.

[>>] Taking pictures
[>>] Swedish Fish
[>>] Staying up late
[>>] Thunderstorms
[>>] Cooking

+ Make me gag.

[>>] The cold (Hah! See, I told you I would explain why the snow storm was important)
[>>] Feeling tired and overwhelmed
[>>] Listening to people argue
[>>] Being woken up early when I don’t need to get up
[>>] Tripping over my feet

+Most played on the ipod.

[♥] Friend Like That - Hawk Nelson
[♥] Thunder - Boys Like Girls
[♥] I caught Fire - The Used
[♥] You‘re All I want -Lifehouse

● and pulling the strings? { [PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL] }

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

Hearing the soothing voice from downstairs coming from his mother, trying to sooth his fathers ‘frazzled nerves’, caused the boy currently licking his wounds upstairs to scowl. Oh, don’t pay any mind to me, your SON. Of course not. He thought sourly. He gently rubbed his neck, grimacing at the bright red hand print that he would have to hide. That was just one of several others that would have to be painstakingly hidden with skin toned bandages and cover up. The brunette tenderly touched the small cut on the right side of his forehead and winced when it gave a sharp sting. He’d have to wash that out with the rubbing alcohol. Heaving a large sigh, Skylark rubbed the sore spot over the right side of his ribs and grimaced. He glanced over at the small bottle of pain killers on his desk. Well, looks like I’ll be taking hospital strength tonight…He thought, stripping the tripped shirt off his body. He growled softly

Tonight’s little fight had been particularly nasty. Of course, it probably wouldn’t have even started if Skylark had just kept his mouth shut about the graduation party. But, he couldn’t just not mention it, or else his dad would have been even more pissed. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. But still, he supposed her could have just mentioned it and then changed the subject. But no, he had to gradually bring it into the conversation, thus provoking questions which called for answers that provoked the fight. He answered all the other questions normally. Where was the party going to be, when was he coming home, how he was going to get there, if there was going to be supervision (of course he had lied about that) and if there was going to be alcohol there. Of course there would, but he had lied and said ’of course not. Jackson’s parents aren’t going to let him have booze at the party.’ He could have easily lied when his dad had asked him who he was going to the party with, and just said one of his other friends. But no, he had answered normally, without thinking, and said his boyfriend.

That had been the wrong answer. As to be expected of his homophobic father, he had stood up and began shouting at him and screaming that his only son wouldn’t be a queer and how he would never allow this. And, per usual, Skylark had stood up and defended both himself and his boyfriend, stating that there wasn’t anything wrong with them. That had only served to piss his father off, and that was when the actual fight started. Luckily enough, after he’d gotten a few good hits in, his father had tripped over the leg of the table and fallen, letting him get away. His mother had taken over from there, calming her husband down. He supposed he should be thankful to her for that, at least. If she didn’t, He’d still have his father trying to choke the living daylights out of him. He gingerly touched the enflamed skin on his neck and sighed, knowing it would turn into a bruise easily enough. It didn’t hurt, so much as it burned. Like when he used to get Indian burns on his arm from kids at school. This was exactly like it.

Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt!

Skylark jerked and looked around quickly, trying to find the source of the sound. He placed a hand to his chest and sighed when he recognized that the sound was coming from his cell phone. He walked over and quickly picked it up, flipping it open. He blinked at the memo displayed on the front, saying “It’s time to leave for the party! NOW!” Skylark’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and he gasped. “Shoot!” He dropped the phone onto his bed and started stripping the rest of his clothes off on his way to the bathroom. He rushed in, quickly hopped in the shower and yelped at the icy jets of water. They quickly turned warm though and he rushed through his shower, scrubbing his body clean, before getting out. Now, here was the tricky part, covering up the bruises. Luckily enough he didn’t have to worry about his arms. His dad was smart enough not to bruise him in any places that could be shown, well, apart from his slip up concerning his neck. But, that could be hidden with some cover up and a scarf or something.

After drying and combing his hair, Sky set about quickly but carefully covering the bruises that could possibly become visible with his cover up. Now that had been embarrassing, having to buy cover up. He could remember the cashier lady giving him a weird look when she scanned the item and he had merely smiled at her. But it was embarrassing, like buying tampons for his mom whenever he went to the store. He turned his head to the left, and then to the right, making sure his neck was covered up completely and nodded. He lightly dabbed the cover up on the bruise over his ribs and rubbed it in. That one he wasn’t worried about so much. He didn’t plan on taking his shirt off any time soon, so that would be covered easily enough. He looked himself over, and when he was sure he had all the bruises covered, he quickly stuck a small bandage over the cut on his forehead and then covered it with his hair. Now, as long as my hair won’t move, I’ll be fine! He brushed his teeth quickly and then ran into his room to slip into his clothes he’d set out that afternoon after he’d gotten home from school. He yanked the dark stonewashed jeans up over his legs, then pulled a white shirt with the lyrics of Hawk Nelson song “All you’ve ever wanted” on over his head, followed by his black sweatshirt over that.

Before he forgot, Skylark quickly grabbed the bottle of pain pills from his desk and dumped out the hospital strength amount. He opened a drawr and dropped the pills into it, before rushing into the bathroom. He placed the pills into his mouth two at a time, bending to take some water into his mouth from the faucet, and continued this till he’d taken all the pills. He ran back out into his room, and, Shoving his feet into his shoes, he quickly grabbed his wallet, car keys and cell phone and ran down the stairs. He called out a quick ‘Bye!’ and then ran out the door. He shoved himself into his used dodge sports truck and quickly turned it on. He backed out of the drive way, and sped up the street, thankful that no cops ever patrolled the area. He pulled to a stop at a stop sign and quickly sent a text his boyfriend.


Hey!
I’m running a little late,
But I’ll be there shortly!
I have a owie too…
Kiss it better?
Love you loads
Sky~<3


Smiling at the thought of being able to see the love of his life in just a few short minutes, Skylark quickly drove on. He was a little surprised at himself for mentioning the gash on his forehead, but hey, at least he wasn’t hiding it. The boy frowned a little bit. That bothered him a little, well not a little, more like a whole lot. It killed him to hide his family life from his boyfriend, especially the bruises. He was in love for crying out loud, wasn‘t the whole point of being in love was being able to trust the other person with anything and everything? He wanted so badly to tell him, to tell somebody, about what he was having to deal with at home. He quickly shook his head. No, that’s selfish! We’ve got enough issues with other people being ignorant and homophobic…I don’t need to lay this on his shoulders as well…Besides…we'll be graduating tomorrow. He smiled at the thought. Hopefully, after that, things would start to ease up, and he would be able to tell him then. Or, better yet, they could find an apartment and move out! That way he wouldn’t have to deal with his parents and then he wouldn’t have to tell him at all! He smiled brightly, caught up in his own little fantasy of what could possibly happen after they graduated from high school.

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

Look at me!

}X { }X{ }X{ }X{ }X{ }X{


My name is
Skylark Avery Duncan

My Nicknames are
Sky, Skylar, Avery

Here's how many candles are on my cake
Sixteen

Doctor called me a
Hormone crazed lad

My Story is
Hello, I’m Skylark, but please, just call me Sky. I was born into a pretty big family, a family of six, not including my parents. I’ve got two older brothers, twins and then three younger sisters, triplets. Yeah, I know, talk about a full house. Anyway, I’m the odd one out in my family…and in town. My older brothers are highly athletic, so their guaranteed a spot in the ‘in’ crowd. My younger sisters are only eleven, but they’ll probably grow up to be involved in some form of music. All three of them are very musically inclined. Me? Like I said, I’m the odd one out. I don’t have a twin, and I’m not a jock, and I’m horrible at music, well other than piano. No, I’m the ‘brain’ in the family. School and good grades have always been my thing. It’s really the only thing that gets me any form of attention in my house. It’s not like my parents neglect me or anything! Don’t get the wrong Idea, my parents are great parents. It’s just that, there’s so much going with my siblings that I just don’t really get a lot of the lime light.

Anyway, my home life is pretty much the same as my school life. I stay behind the scenes and out of the way. Luckily enough my friends don’t mind. They get that I’m not the most outgoing person around. Seriously, Whenever people come and talk to the group or me, I don’t normally say much of anything, if at all. I pretty much only talk when someone speaks to me first. I only speak out when I’m with my friends. People mostly see me as a nerd, so I get people asking me for homework help all the time. Of course, there are always the people who like to take advantage of the help, and I’m too nice to say no, unfortunately enough. Luckily my friends keep that from happening too much. Hey, what can I say? I like to help people!

Now, I’ve got nothing personal against the town I live in, but it isn’t exactly the most…open-minded place ever. You either play sports, or you aren’t worth people‘s time. Sports stars are held in high regard here, it’s pretty much what keeps this place on the map. So, for those of us who don’t play sports, let’s just say we don’t really get along with those who do. On the note of the town not being ‘open-minded’, This town does not accept homosexuals. They just don’t. The jocks make it a point to make our lives a living hell, and most people won’t stop to try and help. That’s what happened a little while ago. The football team at our high school attacked a group of us ‘outcasts’. Myself and four of my other friends were in this group that were attacked and beaten up. Well, one of the jock guys took things to far and hit a friend a little to hard and knocked him out old. Well, that’s not all he did. He put him into a coma. I can remember some of us trying to get our friend to wake up and he wouldn’t…

That’s when the police finally showed up and pulled us all apart. Our friend was taken to the hospital and we wound up getting taken to court with the main four guys that started the fight. The Judge decided that for this matter to be resolved, we, the two groups, the outcasts and the Jocks, needed to become friends. Of course none of us thought it would be possible. So the judge took it a step further, and said that we would all have to live together in a court ordered house, for six months. Live together? What, are they wanting all of us to be killed?!

At school I'm known as the
The Shy Smartie || Character One

My master is
PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxxx " Here we are now, with the falling sky and the rain…We‘re Awakening "

xxxx'Lavyn' ♥ Looks to be about seventeen ♥ Of the male persuasion ♥ Um...Undecided, really ♥ 'Vyn' ♥ A freak of the forest ♥ That's Little MISTER forest freak to you! xxxx

xxxx Trying to remember anything farther back than when we woke up in the forest is impossible. Believe me, I’ve tried. Who’s ‘we’ you ask? Well, we involves me and a girl who woke up in the forest two months ago. She’s my sister. Don’t ask me how I know that, cause I’m not sure either. My gut tells me that she’s my sister, and so far my gut as never led me astray. Needless to say my sister and I are very close, almost joined at the hip. If one of us is around, the other will surely be close by. I don’t think either of us like being far from the other. It just feels strange. Wrong. Not to mention it gets very lonely if we’re separated. So we just stick close to one another. This way we can keep track of one another, and make sure we don’t get ourselves into trouble.

Things were a little awkward at the beginning. Just a few days after we woke up in the forest we grew used to each others presence. We slept together - We had to, it was too cold outside not to. Our clothes may be suited for this sort of weather, but our clothes are old and falling apart - ate together and just generally stayed together. After spending a night out in the rain we were forced to find something to keep us out of the elements. I found this mass of rocks and figured out it was some sort of structure. After checking to make sure it wouldn’t collapse on us, we called it home. After that, I decided that we needed some way to communicate. We couldn’t understand one another at all. So I managed to come up with a simple way of speaking to one another, through using hand signals and motions, along with sounds like humming and clicks. After I explained the different motions and sounds to my sister, we’ve been able to communicate easily. Plus, we’ve had two months to practice.

At the beginning, I kept having to help my sister out of these…odd situations. She would sometimes get herself stuck up in a tree, or she would some how manage to squirm into some tight crevice and I would have to save her. During our time here in the woods, I’ve noticed lots of things about my sister. She’s a very…curious person. She explores everything and does things at such odd times, it’s hard to keep up with her sometimes. She’s unpredictable. Me? I would rather leave things be and just try to stay out of trouble. I certainly don’t just rush into an unknown situation. I’m very cautious and predictable that way, I have to check things out first and make sure things are safe before I do something. I have to give my sister her credit though. She can assess a situation much better than I can. I’m a very detailed person. I take notice of the small things and piece them together. I’m very observant so I’m able to avoid most accidents before they happen, but every once in a while, I’ll miss something and either Me or my sister will end up in a situation. Luckily we take care of each other so if something like that does happen, we’ve got each other.

We haven’t come across anything that looks like us. So far it’s just been Me, La, and the animals that live in the surrounding forest. It’s very strange. Surely there are other people like me and my sister? It’s very scary, to think that you might be the only two people in the world. I can tell La want’s to know if there are other people like us around. Some times I do to. But, I can’t manage to think about things like that for very long. It makes me sad and it scares me to. So, instead, I distract myself with all the things I like around me. I like to stay awake at night, and just stare up at the sky. I like the way the tree’s sway whenever it get’s windy outside. Listening to all the different sounds around me, and then making up little melodies that I hum to and with my sister. I really like being near the water. There are little streams and even a couple small waterfalls around. I like to just sit near them and feel the mist on my face. Watching my sister put those flowers that she really likes in her hair is pretty fun too, especially when she gets frustrated because they won’t stay in place.

Oh! And the animals! I really, really like the animals. There are so many around us, it’s impossible to pick just one. They’re very nice to us. They don’t hunt us like they do smaller animals, and they’ll let us touch them. The big ones and the little one’s both keep me company whenever my sister isn’t around. They’ll come up to me sometimes and just stick around till my sister shows up. She doesn’t really like the bigger animals for some reason, she thinks that we shouldn’t be around them. I’ve never really understood why she thinks that, but I don’t make her be around them. I really like the birds and the deer. They are such gentle animals that I’m always sad whenever I find one that’s been killed by one of the big animals. The birds will fly right up to me. The deer are like the other animals, they’ll let me come up and touch them. But I’ve got to move a little slower or they get spooked.

And another thing I’ve noticed how things grow quickly around us. There’s a huge patch of pretty flowers around our home that my sister loves, and they grow so quickly, it shocks me every time. I can pick a large clump of flowers one day, and then there will be a bigger patch of flowers growing the next day. I’m not sure if it’s just the flower or what. Maybe it’s like La and I, maybe it’s tough and survives. But it’s not just the flowers, but certain plants and roots and berries that we eat grow very quickly as well. I suppose I should be happy that they do, at least we won’t go hungry for very long. I don’t know, maybe things just grow quickly and I’m only noticing things that are happening naturally. It bothers me though. I sometimes go to sleep and I’ll wake up and be afraid that the plants will grow over our home and trap us inside.

Oh well…This just adds to the growing amount of stuff that I don’t understand.

PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

S.P.Y's Ex Racing Get Away Driver

"I'm the one who drives the car really fast when you screw up.
I don't mind the speed, it's the screw up's that piss me off."

Trying to remember anything farther back than when we woke up in the forest is impossible. Believe me, I’ve tried. Who’s ‘we’ you ask? Well, we involves me and a girl who woke up in the forest two months ago. She’s my sister. Don’t ask me how I know that, cause I’m not sure either. My gut tells me that she’s my sister, and so far my gut as never led me astray. Needless to say my sister and I are very close, almost joined at the hip. If one of us is around, the other will surely be close by. I don’t think either of us like being far from the other. It just feels strange. Wrong. Not to mention it gets very lonely if we’re separated. So we just stick close to one another. This way we can keep track of one another, and make sure we don’t get ourselves into trouble.

Things were a little awkward at the beginning. Just a few days after we woke up in the forest we grew used to each others presence. We slept together - We had to, it was too cold outside not to. Our clothes may be suited for this sort of weather, but our clothes are old and falling apart - ate together and just generally stayed together. After spending a night out in the rain we were forced to find something to keep us out of the elements. I found this mass of rocks and figured out it was some sort of structure. After checking to make sure it wouldn’t collapse on us, we called it home. After that, I decided that we needed some way to communicate. We couldn’t understand one another at all. So I managed to come up with a simple way of speaking to one another, through using hand signals and motions, along with sounds like humming and clicks. After I explained the different motions and sounds to my sister, we’ve been able to communicate easily. Plus, we’ve had two months to practice.

At the beginning, I kept having to help my sister out of these…odd situations. She would sometimes get herself stuck up in a tree, or she would some how manage to squirm into some tight crevice and I would have to save her. During our time here in the woods, I’ve noticed lots of things about my sister. She’s a very…curious person. She explores everything and does things at such odd times, it’s hard to keep up with her sometimes. She’s unpredictable. Me? I would rather leave things be and just try to stay out of trouble. I certainly don’t just rush into an unknown situation. I’m very cautious and predictable that way, I have to check things out first and make sure things are safe before I do something. I have to give my sister her credit though. She can assess a situation much better than I can. I’m a very detailed person. I take notice of the small things and piece them together. I’m very observant so I’m able to avoid most accidents before they happen, but every once in a while, I’ll miss something and either Me or my sister will end up in a situation. Luckily we take care of each other so if something like that does happen, we’ve got each other.

We haven’t come across anything that looks like us. So far it’s just been Me, La, and the animals that live in the surrounding forest. It’s very strange. Surely there are other people like me and my sister? It’s very scary, to think that you might be the only two people in the world. I can tell La want’s to know if there are other people like us around. Some times I do to. But, I can’t manage to think about things like that for very long. It makes me sad and it scares me to. So, instead, I distract myself with all the things I like around me. I like to stay awake at night, and just stare up at the sky. I like the way the tree’s sway whenever it get’s windy outside. Listening to all the different sounds around me, and then making up little melodies that I hum to and with my sister. I really like being near the water. There are little streams and even a couple small waterfalls around. I like to just sit near them and feel the mist on my face. Watching my sister put those flowers that she really likes in her hair is pretty fun too, especially when she gets frustrated because they won’t stay in place.

Oh! And the animals! I really, really like the animals. There are so many around us, it’s impossible to pick just one. They’re very nice to us. They don’t hunt us like they do smaller animals, and they’ll let us touch them. The big ones and the little one’s both keep me company whenever my sister isn’t around. They’ll come up to me sometimes and just stick around till my sister shows up. She doesn’t really like the bigger animals for some reason, she thinks that we shouldn’t be around them. I’ve never really understood why she thinks that, but I don’t make her be around them. I really like the birds and the deer. They are such gentle animals that I’m always sad whenever I find one that’s been killed by one of the big animals. The birds will fly right up to me. The deer are like the other animals, they’ll let me come up and touch them. But I’ve got to move a little slower or they get spooked.

And another thing I’ve noticed how things grow quickly around us. There’s a huge patch of pretty flowers around our home that my sister loves, and they grow so quickly, it shocks me every time. I can pick a large clump of flowers one day, and then there will be a bigger patch of flowers growing the next day. I’m not sure if it’s just the flower or what. Maybe it’s like La and I, maybe it’s tough and survives. But it’s not just the flowers, but certain plants and roots and berries that we eat grow very quickly as well. I suppose I should be happy that they do, at least we won’t go hungry for very long. I don’t know, maybe things just grow quickly and I’m only noticing things that are happening naturally. It bothers me though. I sometimes go to sleep and I’ll wake up and be afraid that the plants will grow over our home and trap us inside.

Oh well…This just adds to the growing amount of stuff that I don’t understand.

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

~x~x~Lavyn~x~x~

"In the confusion of it all, we stay with eachother,
Happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word."

Trying to remember anything farther back than when we woke up in the forest is impossible. Believe me, I’ve tried. Who’s ‘we’ you ask? Well, we involves me and a girl who woke up in the forest two months ago. She’s my sister. Don’t ask me how I know that, cause I’m not sure either. My gut tells me that she’s my sister, and so far my gut as never led me astray. Needless to say my sister and I are very close, almost joined at the hip. If one of us is around, the other will surely be close by. I don’t think either of us like being far from the other. It just feels strange. Wrong. Not to mention it gets very lonely if we’re separated. So we just stick close to one another. This way we can keep track of one another, and make sure we don’t get ourselves into trouble.

Things were a little awkward at the beginning. Just a few days after we woke up in the forest we grew used to each others presence. We slept together - We had to, it was too cold outside not to. Our clothes may be suited for this sort of weather, but our clothes are old and falling apart - ate together and just generally stayed together. After spending a night out in the rain we were forced to find something to keep us out of the elements. I found this mass of rocks and figured out it was some sort of structure. After checking to make sure it wouldn’t collapse on us, we called it home. After that, I decided that we needed some way to communicate. We couldn’t understand one another at all. So I managed to come up with a simple way of speaking to one another, through using hand signals and motions, along with sounds like humming and clicks. After I explained the different motions and sounds to my sister, we’ve been able to communicate easily. Plus, we’ve had two months to practice.

At the beginning, I kept having to help my sister out of these…odd situations. She would sometimes get herself stuck up in a tree, or she would some how manage to squirm into some tight crevice and I would have to save her. During our time here in the woods, I’ve noticed lots of things about my sister. She’s a very…curious person. She explores everything and does things at such odd times, it’s hard to keep up with her sometimes. She’s unpredictable. Me? I would rather leave things be and just try to stay out of trouble. I certainly don’t just rush into an unknown situation. I’m very cautious and predictable that way, I have to check things out first and make sure things are safe before I do something. I have to give my sister her credit though. She can assess a situation much better than I can. I’m a very detailed person. I take notice of the small things and piece them together. I’m very observant so I’m able to avoid most accidents before they happen, but every once in a while, I’ll miss something and either Me or my sister will end up in a situation. Luckily we take care of each other so if something like that does happen, we’ve got each other.

We haven’t come across anything that looks like us. So far it’s just been Me, La, and the animals that live in the surrounding forest. It’s very strange. Surely there are other people like me and my sister? It’s very scary, to think that you might be the only two people in the world. I can tell La want’s to know if there are other people like us around. Some times I do to. But, I can’t manage to think about things like that for very long. It makes me sad and it scares me to. So, instead, I distract myself with all the things I like around me. I like to stay awake at night, and just stare up at the sky. I like the way the tree’s sway whenever it get’s windy outside. Listening to all the different sounds around me, and then making up little melodies that I hum to and with my sister. I really like being near the water. There are little streams and even a couple small waterfalls around. I like to just sit near them and feel the mist on my face. Watching my sister put those flowers that she really likes in her hair is pretty fun too, especially when she gets frustrated because they won’t stay in place.

Oh! And the animals! I really, really like the animals. There are so many around us, it’s impossible to pick just one. They’re very nice to us. They don’t hunt us like they do smaller animals, and they’ll let us touch them. The big ones and the little one’s both keep me company whenever my sister isn’t around. They’ll come up to me sometimes and just stick around till my sister shows up. She doesn’t really like the bigger animals for some reason, she thinks that we shouldn’t be around them. I’ve never really understood why she thinks that, but I don’t make her be around them. I really like the birds and the deer. They are such gentle animals that I’m always sad whenever I find one that’s been killed by one of the big animals. The birds will fly right up to me. The deer are like the other animals, they’ll let me come up and touch them. But I’ve got to move a little slower or they get spooked.

And another thing I’ve noticed how things grow quickly around us. There’s a huge patch of pretty flowers around our home that my sister loves, and they grow so quickly, it shocks me every time. I can pick a large clump of flowers one day, and then there will be a bigger patch of flowers growing the next day. I’m not sure if it’s just the flower or what. Maybe it’s like La and I, maybe it’s tough and survives. But it’s not just the flowers, but certain plants and roots and berries that we eat grow very quickly as well. I suppose I should be happy that they do, at least we won’t go hungry for very long. I don’t know, maybe things just grow quickly and I’m only noticing things that are happening naturally. It bothers me though. I sometimes go to sleep and I’ll wake up and be afraid that the plants will grow over our home and trap us inside.

Oh well…This just adds to the growing amount of stuff that I don’t understand.

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

}X { }X{ }X{ }X{ }X{ }X{

"About half my designs are controlled fantasy, 15 percent are total madness and the rest are bread-and-butter designs." - Manolo Blahnik

❊❊The name is ❊❊ Skylark Avery Duncan
❊❊But you can call me❊❊Sky, Skylar, Avery
❊❊If you're blind, I'm a❊❊Boy, just to save you from having to check.
❊❊That totally loves the❊❊The Femme Fatal's and those Prince Charmings
❊❊I blew❊❊seventeen ❊❊candles out on❊❊September Twenty-sixth
❊❊My attitude is who I am❊❊People have called me childish, and I certainly won’t deny that I don have my moments. Hell, I still pout whenever my parents won’t let me do something. So it takes a person with some amount of patience to put up with me. I’m a sweet guy (according to other people) and I do like to make people happy. I am highly stubborn and very set in my ways. I take things at my own pace, and I will not allow others to rush me. I’ve got a sort of skeptical look on ‘love’. I think the words thrown around to much, so until I know for absolute sure that I’m ‘in love’ with someone, I’m not going to say it. I may care for someone a lot, but I’m not going to lead them on by saying something as important as that. On that note, I’m a little clueless when it comes to the romance department. I don’t know the right things to say to ‘set a mood’ and I don’t know all the moves, so just bear with me. I admit that I’m a pacifist. I could care less if someone else gets into fist fights, but I’m not going to. It’s a waist of time and energy in my opinion. I have gotten into shouting matches with my dad though, so I’m not completely unprepared. Mainly I’m a nice guy with my good parts and bad parts. Don’t like it, too friggen bad.
❊❊It's my life. Get over it.❊❊To tell the truth, my back ground is really not that interesting. I was born into a small family, so I’ve only got my older brother and my parents and our two cats, Nigel and Elvis. My mom designs children’s clothes for a living and she owns her own little shop, and dad’s a manager at the post office. Yeah, not very glamorous I know. But it’s fine, I get along really well with my mother -probably a little better than is normal for a Mother-son relationship. I‘m very protective of her- and I help her out every once in a while in the shop, and even making some of the clothes as well. I guess that’s when the whole fashion thing started for me. Just sitting there with a bunch of kick a** fabric in your hands and a sowing machine, and getting curious was all it really took. I made a small little outfit for a three year old, and it sold almost as soon as I put it on the rack. I continued to do that till I got more involved with school and friends and the dating scene. I still design, but not as much. I still plan on making clothes, I plan on making my own name right up there with Gucci. I can tell when a person’s outfit doesn’t work and when it does, and I’m certainly not afraid to tell you. I’m popular with the girls for sure, they like the honesty and my opinions.

Anyhow, I‘m getting a little caught up in that. There’s other stuff worth mentioning. I’ve lived with my father and mother bickering and fighting with each other for a good ten years or so. It’s not just dinky little arguments, like if my dad had spilt something all over my mom’s favorite comforter. No, this is ‘I can’t believe I married you, get the hell away from me, slamming doors’ sort of arguments, with lots and lots of cursing and shouting. On top of that, dad isn't completely suportive with my wish to design clothes...Not exactly the nicest place to live, but I guess not the worst either. My older brother Levi has asked if I want to stay with him for a while, but I felt I should stay. After all, I mentioned I was protective of mom, so I need to be there for her. But, I guess that’s where my skeptical outlook on the whole ‘love’ thing comes from. I don’t really know what it looks like. But that’s depressing isn’t it? My dad has mentioned several times that he want’s to leave this town for something better in another state, and he keeps saying ‘one of these days, we’re just gonna leave’. Right. Like hell mom’s going to up and leave her shop. But…sometimes, I wonder if he’s really serious.

Like I said, my background isn’t that interesting.
❊❊Gimme more!❊❊-Gory movies
-Disney movies (guilty pleasure)
-Swedish fish
-Designing a new outfit and having it become a successful sale
-Music (doesn’t mater what kind, just music!)
-Thunderstorms
-Being physically close to someone (As if proximity, you horny idiots)
-Trying to cook (emphasis on ‘trying’)
-Clothing
-People playing with his hair
❊❊Yuck! Get it away!❊❊
-Creative slumps
-Being really cold
-Migraines (I get a lot of them…)
-Getting sick
-Being overly tired
-People rushing him
-Foods with strange textures (If it’s got a funky texture, I can’t eat it.)
-Being completely ignored
-People using his clothing advice
-Reoccurring nightmares
❊❊If I changed my name, it would be❊❊PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL
❊❊Some people call me❊❊The Fashion Guy
❊❊On my iPod is❊❊Hiatus - Sugarcult

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

[ THE FACTS AB0UT : ]»__..» MiSS FaLLeN ANGeL


[ N A M E ] :__ » Christina-Isabella Devereaux

[ A G E ] :__ » Seventeen

[ H E i G H T ] :__ » 5‘3“

[ W E i G H T ] :__ » 125


[ THE ST0RY 0F A : ]» Mademoiselle c a l l e d » [ Bella ]


[ S T 0 R Y ] :__ » Bio ((at least two paragraphs))

[ L i K E S ] :__ »
» likes

[ D i S L i K E S ] :__ »
» dislikes

[ P 0 S T i N G C 0 L 0 R ] :__ » #008B45 or Spring Green 3

[ U S E R N A M E ] :__ » PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL

[PSYCHO_CHiiNADOLL]

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters."

Christina had always heard that falling is a very strange experience. The feeling is unique, and there isn’t really another feeling like it. Your adrenalin goes double time and your heart races. Your stomach clenches and your whole body tenses. At least for some people. For her, it’s peaceful, or something like peace…She didn’t really think an angel falling from heaven would feel that the experience is ‘peaceful’. More like horrifying. But, this particular angel, miss Christina-Isabella was surprisingly relaxed during her fall. Not by choice of course, but because he body wouldn’t respond to her at all. She could see the earth racing up towards her and she found herself wishing that the impact would hurry up and get here, since her wings didn‘t seem to be slowing her down any. She didn’t want to feel that heavy falling sensation any longer. Maybe the impact would kill her. It wasn’t impossible, for sure, a human body could easily shatter upon impact from falling at such a height. But, she had a feeling it would be more like falling out of a bed and winding her, rather than really hurting.

My lord, please forgive me! I didn’t know, I am sorry! she cried in her mind. Christina-Isabella couldn’t bear it, the pain gripping her heart. In a moment of foolishness, she had been tricked and she had believed the trickster, for just a few moments, and that’s why she was here, falling from grace. Now the ground was only 150 feet away…100...80...50...She was going to fall into a lake, a large lake out somewhere close to nowhere. Impact. It had been just as she had imagined it. It was just like falling out of bed, and knocking the breath from her lungs. She sank quickly through the water, her eyes opening and closing quickly. She could catch glimpses of bubbles, probably coming from her mouth which was open wide. Her ears pounded with the pressure bearing down on her. Suddenly her need for oxygen took over and she started to thrash, kicking her legs wildly through the water, propelling her diagonally upward. Christina’s head broke the surface and she gasped for air. For a minute she thrashed. Having not gone swimming in a very long time, she couldn’t remember what to do. But as she thrashed, her hand came into contact with something hard. Immediately she grasped for it, clinging to the hard wooden surface. Wrapping her arms around the beam, she trembled and panted, the water around her freezing cold.

Prying her eyes open, she blinked when a black feather floated before her. Christina’s eyes widened with horror as she looked around and found hundreds of the raven black feathers floating around her. She looked over her shoulder wildly, and she let out an anguished cry as she saw the black wings attached to her back. “No!” She screamed. Currently waterlogged, her wings were heavy and weighed down, resting in the water. She struggled to lift them from the water but gave up when she couldn’t even move them. Breathing sharp pained gasps, Christina looked around. She was clinging to a pole that used to hold up a dock. There was one across from her and then three more at her right. She could see a dock leading to land, but she was a ways off, and she had no wish to attempt to swim over to it. So, she rested her forehead against the pole and cried, her tears mingling with the wetness dripping down her face from her sopping hair. The white gossamer gown she had been wearing clung to her and floated softly around her limp legs.

“I am so sorry…My Lord, please…please forgive me!” she sobbed out, her body and voice trembling from fear, and sadness, and the overwhelming cold. For the first time in a long while, she felt anger. Not anger at God. No, it wasn’t his fault she had been foolish, and believed those horrible demons. No, she was angry at herself. After all she had learned, after everything she knew, how could she allow herself to be deceived in such a way. She gripped the pole tighter and bit her lip harshly, till she felt the skin split and a tangy copper taste fill her mouth. Christina lifted a hand and touched the corner of her lip and pulled her fingers away, finding a dark crimson liquid there. Her stomach tightened abruptly and she quickly slapped her hand down into the water. Blood. The word was familiar, yet not. It was associated with pain, and death. She trembled harder. The cold was setting in now and she desperately wanted to get out of the water. Glancing out at the next pole she hesitantly tried to reach out with one hand, as if expecting it to come floating over to her. When it didn’t she attempted to reach out again, loosening her hold on the pole. When she started to sink she tightened her grip again.

Her stubborn streak flared and she suddenly pushed off, gliding closer to the pole. Just like with the first, she flailed till she was propelled forward and she clutched at the pole, taking a few deep breaths. There was one more pole between her and the dock now. She shivered. Something told her she needed to get out of the water, before she got sick. Taking a deep breath, Christina pushed herself off the pole, this time gliding easily over to the next. After taking another breath, she pushed to the pole holding up the end of the pier and clung to it. Her leg cramped and she whimpered. Sure, it may not have been a bunch of movement, but it was sudden movement in cold water with unused muscles. She looked up and wondered if she would have the strength to pull herself up out of the water. Glancing back to her waterlogged wings she quickly realized that the only way she was going to get out of the water, was if she hopped the poles to the shore, or someone pulled her up. She looked to the land and grimaced, finding it still a ways off.

She turned her face upward as something wet fell on top of her head. She felt the gentle drops of rain falling upon her face and she closed her eyes. How fitting… She thought, biting the inside of her lip to keep it from trembling, on the verge of crying again. Are you crying for me? My God, do you weep for me? Christina curled her numb toes under the water, and attempted to tuck her knees up against her chest. An easy feet, as she was floating in the water. Something soft brushed her arm and when she opened her eyes, she saw it was one of those cursed black feathers. She glared at it, slapping it away, as if that would make her feel any better about her situation. Of course it didn’t…She didn’t think anything ever would make her feel better about this…about being stuck here on earth, surrounded by people who wouldn’t understand her.

Forgive me…