((Testing - Please no posting.))

[Vince_H8]

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My full name is;; Byron Truston Adenfelt
I go by;; Just... call me Byron.
I have these parts;; I'm a dangler.
I am;; Eighteen.
Race;; Human.
Powers;; I'm a medium - which means I can communicate with spirits. No possessions though, I can only speak, hear, and see them.
Weapon;; Blank!
I've been attending for;; Third year.
I swing a certain way;; Bisexual. It's what's inside that counts.
I live in dorm;; Doesn't matter. Something with a five in it?
I'm at Yandura Academy because;; Well first off, there's the ghost thing. Then I got the letter in the mail. Do I see a sign here?! I think I do!
Bio;; Believe it or not, but I was born to a normal, upper-middle class family. My parents were newlyweds who met in college. They moved in together in the city after graduating, I came along ten months later- -their wedding day somewhere in there.

I was practically raised in daycare after that. My parents were always at work, with little time to spare for their only son. Which was probably the reason my parents never noticed me talking into the room, with no one else around... I wonder if that had anything to do with the fact that I was always being transferred to different day cares, maybe the teachers couldn't handle a crazy student.

Grade school and high school were harder. By then, the ghosts had started to move physical things to get my attention. It was quiet an annoyance to have that happening wherever I went, along with still talking to things that weren't there. I almost dropped out, until I got this letter in the mail. What a match! A school for those of the supernatural! Well, I mean, I can't really do anything supernatural, I can just see the supernatural spirits/ghost.. whatever you want to call them. I can see them, and I'd really like not to anymore. Thank you very much!
I tend to be really;; Me? Oh, gosh. Well, I'm mad. I mean completely bonkers! That's what happens when you've been seeing ghosts since your eyes could recognize shapes, as a baby. I don't function well in society. You see, I have this one constant ghost that has, annoyingly, attached itself to me - along with the others that show up - and he's a little fiend! Never leaves me alone. Aside from actually being crazy, I look the part; talking to the voices in my head. Why did you kill your family? The voices told me too! - yeah, crazy like that. I don't make friends well.
I could never live without;;
+ Mindgames, mostly when he is playing them on / with other people.
+ Hair Dye; it is something one cannot live without!
+ Chewing fruity flavored bubble gum; it tastes good and makes your breath smell tasty!
+ Wearing impossibly bright colors and jingling things that make him stand out more than needed.
+ Water beds; their so fun to sleep on, especially when it's so hot outside or having a roll in the ole' hay!
I really hate;;
- Fighting is just as bad as reading a book
- Overly Long Books; figures it is pretty much just a waste of his life.
- Thunderstorms
- Dependence, one should only count on one's self.
- Blood, it's... sickening when in real life.
I'm totally crushing on;; Someone over the rainbow!
Oh, before I forget;;
+ Achluophobia [Fear of the Dark]
+ Coulrophobia [Fear of Clowns]
+ Philophobia [Fear of Falling in Love]
Who's in Control;; Vince_H8

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[Vince_H8]

• byron truston adenfelt

• byron••••••• eighteen••••••• the crazy••••••• #d25b6b••••••• Vince_H8

Jason eyed Chie as he sat down in his spot. Though it was no longer the suspicious glare he often gave just about everyone else. He trusted that Chie wouldn't touch him. Even with him so close he knew he could trust Chie, before even himself.
The small childish gestures still composed within the mans body, even at the age of nineteen. He truly was still very much the a child. It made Jason feel old. Chid had a year on him, but that didn't change their mind set.
He watched as Chie sat his head on his knee, letting his hair stray out in front of him to cover both his eyes from Jason's gaze. The tiara on his head sliding forward on his head, threatening to take the leap from his head to the chair.

Jason sat up straighter in the chair, so that he was no longer curled up, but crossing his legs, facing Chie. Just as intent on Chie as the he seemed on Jason. He leaned in enough so that he could see the sparkling of the boys eyes behind the many strands of hair. He lifted a covered hand to the boys head and positioned the tiara on his head so that it wouldn't fall off.
After the deed, he leaned back to admire his handy work. He knew it wasn't that big of a deal. Or at least it shouldn't of been. But it was. The fact that he was comfortable enough to do such a thing was sort of unsettling.

Jason cleared his throat nervously as he settled back against the arm rest.
"I was merely curious," Jason shrugged. Again, a shrug that could mean whatever you wanted it to mean. No sign that he was about to elaborate on his explanation.
"If you could, would you go back to save your mother?" Jason looked away from Chie's face. Not being able to see his eyes was a little unsettling. Knowing that Chie could see his, but he couldn't return the gaze as certainly

[Vince_H8]

• byron truston adenfelt

• byron••••••• eighteen••••••• the crazy••••••• #d25b6b

Jason eyed Chie as he sat down in his spot. Though it was no longer the suspicious glare he often gave just about everyone else. He trusted that Chie wouldn't touch him. Even with him so close he knew he could trust Chie, before even himself.
The small childish gestures still composed within the mans body, even at the age of nineteen. He truly was still very much the a child. It made Jason feel old. Chid had a year on him, but that didn't change their mind set.
He watched as Chie sat his head on his knee, letting his hair stray out in front of him to cover both his eyes from Jason's gaze. The tiara on his head sliding forward on his head, threatening to take the leap from his head to the chair.

Jason sat up straighter in the chair, so that he was no longer curled up, but crossing his legs, facing Chie. Just as intent on Chie as the he seemed on Jason. He leaned in enough so that he could see the sparkling of the boys eyes behind the many strands of hair. He lifted a covered hand to the boys head and positioned the tiara on his head so that it wouldn't fall off.
After the deed, he leaned back to admire his handy work. He knew it wasn't that big of a deal. Or at least it shouldn't of been. But it was. The fact that he was comfortable enough to do such a thing was sort of unsettling.

Jason cleared his throat nervously as he settled back against the arm rest.
"I was merely curious," Jason shrugged. Again, a shrug that could mean whatever you wanted it to mean. No sign that he was about to elaborate on his explanation.
"If you could, would you go back to save your mother?" Jason looked away from Chie's face. Not being able to see his eyes was a little unsettling. Knowing that Chie could see his, but he couldn't return the gaze as certainly

[Vince_H8]

• byron truston adenfelt

• byron••••••• eighteen••••••• the crazy••••••• #d25b6b
• cleg••••••• over two-hundred••••••• pirate ghost••••••• #5ba1d2

It was a peaceful enough day. The sky was blue, the sun was shinning, birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing, ghosts were... ghosting? Yeah, just a normal day in the life of Byron Adenfelt. Wait. Ghosts? Oh, didn't I mention? Byron here can see ghosts. Really? Yeah, ghosts, spirits, souls, whatever you want to call them. Byron can see them.

"Who's that?" Byron whispered into empty air, "who's there?" His yellow-green eyes widened and flicked around, expecting for something to jump out at him any moment. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was now turning around and around in his spot in front of the building. What building you ask? A school, his new school - a school for beings with supernatual tendencies. To any on lookers, they would of seen a tall - about 6'1 - slightly built character doing sharp circles, and talking to himself. His short black hair was disheveled and flying about with each turn of the head. He was dressed like a typical biker - black leather jacket over top a white shirt. His jeans were worn and black as were his shoes. And he donned a pair of black sun glasses, that hid part of a scar reaching from the left side of his forehead, to just below his right eye.

"It's the ghost of Christmas past," the voice came from no where, and everywhere all at once; like it was in Byron's mind, stuck, implanted there, and no matter how much he dug it wouldn't go away.
The voice waited a few more seconds to watch Byron clench his eyes shut and hold his head, "it's me ya pansy, who the hell do ya think it is?" Byron knew that voice. He almost wished it was some other ghost. Scary ghost with no head? Sure, no problem! Monstrous ghost that can throw physical objects? Yeah, oh yeah, absolutely. But, there was nothing Byron hated more than this ghost. Nothing!

"Gawdammit, Cleg!" Byron opened his eyes and lowered his hands to rest at his hips. The male ghost slowly took a shape in front of him. He was still pretty see through when he was done 'appearing'. He didn't really have any colour to him, just kind of blue-grey. The man himself - if you want to call him a man, he hasn't been one for over two-hundred years now - well he was about twenty-five in appearance, once you got passed the rough exterior, he had after all, been a pirate. Hair, had probably been black; worn to his shoulders. Face was rough from days without a shave. Average height and build. Oh, and he had no feet... And not in the ghostly way, he said they'd been eaten by a shark-ghost, but Byron didn't believe him. So, he just.. floated, with his pant legs dangling to the ground.
"I don't have time for your games!" Byron shouted, then stomped threw - yes threw - Cleg the ghost, in the direction of the school. He didn't really care that he looked insane anymore, in fact, it didn't really even register.

[Vince_H8]

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO







xxxx➽ CALEB GREY

▌▌▌▌█ █ █ █ ██ ████


➳xxxx call me caleb
➳xxxx eighteen years old
➳xxxx male
➳xxxx bisexual
➳xxxx #665c99


▌▌▌▌█ █ █ █ ██ ████


LONER && IRRITABLE && SARCASTIC && TEMPERMENTAL


OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Wake up Caleb!" What was that whining voice he could hear? It sounded a lot like his childhood friend. But that couldn't be. He was in the House of Night; he had been for the last two years. Bel, dear Bel, had been crushed when Caleb had been marked. He'd had to leave everything behind. Including Bel.

Caleb squinted open his eyes. They protested, pleading for more sleep. Just a few more minutes! Please! But that voice that had woken him up, it was still going on, winning, telling him he needed to wake up.
Caleb blinked a few times, trying to focus his vision. Which didn't seem to be much use, since he'd pulled his covers up over his head.

A low groan escaped him when the covers were pulled off of him and he was left looking up at Bel. Who was bending over him so that his face was directly above Caleb's. He was smiling down at Caleb deviously.
"Eep!" A very unattractive squeal peeped out of him, and his hands automatically flew up to cover his mouth.
"Jesus, Bel!" Caleb rolled over onto his stomach to hide his face. Why was Bel here? At the House of Night...?

Caleb rolled back over on to his back looked at Bel. Really looked this time. He looked like his usual self. Short white hair falling into his eyes. Making his grey eyes half visible. But even behind that hair they were sparkling with excitement. He'd always had this porcelain pale skin that never tanned. He even had his ever present tiara atop his head. But he was wearing a third former jacket, with the silver spiral embroidered onto the it.

Caleb's eyes widened and his hand reached out to his friend. His fingers gently brushed Bel's bangs away from his forehead. There it was. The outline of a sapphire crescent moon. He remembered now. Yesterday had been when Bel arrived. He hadn't been allowed to see him in the infirmary. It was pretty standard that they keep a new fledgling there for the first little while.

"Yes, yes, I'm here, and I'm a fledgling," Bel said as he slapped Caleb's hand away, stood up right and started to tug on Caleb's impractically long hair pulled back into a pony tail, "can you please stop gawking and get up so that we can eat!?"

Caleb shook his head to clear the shock and swung his feet off the side of his bed.
"Okay, I'm awake, just give me a few moments to get ready,"
Bel sighed and watched as Caleb stood and staggered into the bathroom.

[Vince_H8]

Jazz & Devi { Inane & Asinine }
(Questionably) Human, Experiments
❝ Earth is the insane asylum for the universe. ❞

ℐ n T ℎ ℯ D α t α b α s ℯ . . .

T ℎ ℯ N α m ℯ ► Jasper Kean l Devon Atticus Carthwright
T ℎ ℯ A g ℯ ► 19 l 21
T ℎ ℯ G ℯ n ∂ ℯ r ► We're danglers
T ℎ ℯ ℋ ℯ i g ℎ t ► 5'11 l 6'0
T ℎ ℯ ℰ y ℯ s ► Yellow l Yellow-green
T ℎ ℯ ℋ α i r ► Blonde l Black with chucks dyed purple and blue
T ℎ ℯ S ℯ x u α ℓ i t y ► Gay l Bisexual
T ℎ ℯ ℛ α c ℯ ► Ex Anti Race
T ℎ ℯ ℒ i n ℯ α g ℯ ► Before the war, Jazz's parents were both lawyers. Jazz hasn't heard from them in a year or so. Last he heard they were hiding out somewhere up north in Sector A-01 l Devon's father died when he was seven. His mother raised him and his younger brother until the war. He doesn't know where his mother is. But suspects that she's dead.

ℐ n ℳ y ℳ i n ∂ . . .

P ℯ r s ℴ n α ℓ i t y S y m ℘ t ℴ m s ► Both Jazz and Devi are completely raving mad - not all there, bushed, bonkers, cracked, psycho, batty, loony, loopy, loco - and don't care if it shows. Though, Jazz seems to be more extroverted about it. He's very child-like. He likes playing games - yes, even in the middle of a war - and sometimes even treats the war like a giant video game - it's amazing that he's still alive, I know. He tends to jump right into situations without thinking much about it, and with both feet. He has an affinity for sparkly objects, and will flirt with just about anyone - even girls - when he's bored. l Devi is just as mad, but is sometimes to busy reeling Jazz in so he doesn't get himself killed off. Instead of being childish like Jazz, Devi is devious. He likes to play, but in a darker manner, a more subtle way, and it usually benefits him in some way. He's a bit cold at times, he never warms up to anyone right away, and is a pathological liar.
T ℎ ℯ P α s t ℳ i s t α k ℯ s ℐ ℋ α v ℯ ℳ α ∂ ℯ ► Jazz and Devi have known each other their whole lives. Their mothers were friends back in high school, so the two boys were destined to be friends. When the war started, both of them were taken by the V's, first as pets, but later started experimenting on them - when neither of them would cave and be a good little darling. Both of their skulls were cut open, then stitched back up, after doing who knows what. Jazz had the worst of it though, when they sewed his mouth shut and hack off his forearms - which were put back on later. Neither of the boys are exactly sure of everything that happened to them there, but knew that the V were planning to somehow combine Jazz and Devi into one person by sewing them together - which is why there brains had been synced together while the V were digging around in their heads. But they'd managed to escaped before that happened. Don't ask how they escaped... Can anyone say "play dead"?
A ℱ ℯ w O f ℳ y ℱ a v ℴ r i t ℯ T ℎ i n g s ►
+ Sparkly objects; pretty to look at.
+ Cuddling; being held.
+ The way it smells after a rainstorm; almost reminds him of a time before the war.
+ Rainbows; just about the prettiest things in the world, even if the world has gone to s**t.
+ Madness; things are just more interesting that way.

+ Mindgames; mostly when he is playing on other people.
+ Sex, in general.
+ Morbid humor.
+ Hair dye; it is something one cannot live without, even during this war.
+ Tattoos; cause he's badass like that.

ℳ y ℬ u r n ℒ i s t ►
- Early mornings; sleeping in rocks!
- Isolation.
- Attempting to let go of the past and not being able to.
- Moving around a lot.
- Dogs; they jump and bark... ew.

- The quiet; it's like being in the eye of the storm.. all of the time!
- Not always having access to hair dye.
- Lack of internet.
- His natural hair colour... he'll never tell.
- Pop, it's just weird...
ℳ y S ℯ c r ℯ t P ℴ w ℯ r s ► They think almost as one, which can be annoying because one can start talking, and the other will finish (as a side effect, they can't be separated for very long). And, they're always in each others head. Also, they're a little harder to kill than a normal humans, but they do... fall apart easily. I think they're like smart zombies - without the eating of brains. Maybe that's why it was so easy to fake being dead...

ℭ ℓ ℴ s i n g S t α t ℯ m ℯ n t s & ℒ α s t ℛ i g ℎ t s

A ∂ ∂ i t i ℴ n α ℓ ℐ n f ℴ r m α t i ℴ n ► Completely bonkers.
T ℎ ℯ S ℴ u ℓ T ℎ α t W α t c ℎ ℯ s O v ℯ r ℳ ℯ ℐ s ► Vince_H8

[Vince_H8]

• jasper keanOOOOO• devon atticus carthwright

The sky was clear today. It was odd, the sky was clear a lot. It didn't seem to realize that the world had gone to s**t. It didn't even seem to care. It just went on as it always had. Clear and sunny, cloudy and rainy. All of the motions were there, but none of them felt right. It should of been dark. Yes... dark. But not the kind that anyone would enjoy. None of the nice evenings where you might take a walk with a loved one. Instead the kind of dark that nightmares were made of. The kind you would imagine to be sticky and painful if touched. And there would be things hiding in it. Things you'd never want to encounter.

"The sky is confused," the slightly naive words weren't spoken out loud. But Devi could hear them just the same because they were in his head, almost like the words were his own thoughts, but it wasn't in his minds voice, it was Jaspers. His yellow-green eyes flicked toward the blonde laying in front of the rock he was sitting on.

"The sky can't be confused," Devi said without humor, "it's the sky."

"But it is!" The voice insisted. Jazz's yellow eyes blinked up at the sky a few more times before he unlaced his hands from behind his head and sat up. He let his gaze fall on Devi, his head tilted to the side, "just look at it! It's sunny!" The words became more urgent. And it had Devon pressing a finger between his eyes.

"Not so loud!" Devi's whined. His black hair fell over his eyes and he shivered with the after effects of what Jazz did to him when the blonde's voice became to loud. It felt almost like Jazz was trying to steal Devi's thoughts, like if he pressed anymore, Devi could become something of a puppet to Jazz.

"Sorry," Jazz looked away from Devi, his fingers subconsciously raised to feel around the stitches that had his lips sealed together. He wondered why They'd done it. Why had They sewn his lips together. What was the purpose to it? It just didn't make sense.

"Nothing They did made any sense," Devi whispered, he'd gotten off the rock and crawled over to Jazz so that he was only inches from Jazz's face, "we should take those out though..." Devi's own fingers slowly traced the bottom of Jazz's lip, "we're safe now, they wont find us."

Jazz looked up at Devi, his eyes clouded over with unshed tears. They'd been running for a few days now. Not exactly sure where they were, but it didn't matter, as long as it wasn't in the hands of Them anymore. He nodded a little to quickly and let his arms snake around Devi's neck, pulling him closer. Devi let him. Fear hadn't been a luxury they were able to afford in the last few days, but now it crawled up their throats and spilled out their eyes.

[Vince_H8]

• jasper kean

It was a peaceful enough day. The sky was blue, the sun was shinning, birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing, ghosts were... ghosting? Yeah, just a normal day in the life of Byron Adenfelt. Wait. Ghosts? Oh, didn't I mention? Byron here can see ghosts. Really? Yeah, ghosts, spirits, souls, whatever you want to call them. Byron can see them.

"Who's that?" Byron whispered into empty air, "who's there?" His yellow-green eyes widened and flicked around, expecting for something to jump out at him any moment. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was now turning around and around in his spot in front of the building. What building you ask? A school, his new school - a school for beings with supernatual tendencies. To any on lookers, they would of seen a tall - about 6'1 - slightly built character doing sharp circles, and talking to himself. His short black hair was disheveled and flying about with each turn of the head. He was dressed like a typical biker - black leather jacket over top a white shirt. His jeans were worn and black as were his shoes. And he donned a pair of black sun glasses, that hid part of a scar reaching from the left side of his forehead, to just below his right eye.

"It's the ghost of Christmas past," the voice came from no where, and everywhere all at once; like it was in Byron's mind, stuck, implanted there, and no matter how much he dug it wouldn't go away.
The voice waited a few more seconds to watch Byron clench his eyes shut and hold his head, "it's me ya pansy, who the hell do ya think it is?" Byron knew that voice. He almost wished it was some other ghost. Scary ghost with no head? Sure, no problem! Monstrous ghost that can throw physical objects? Yeah, oh yeah, absolutely. But, there was nothing Byron hated more than this ghost. Nothing!

"Gawdammit, Cleg!" Byron opened his eyes and lowered his hands to rest at his hips. The male ghost slowly took a shape in front of him. He was still pretty see through when he was done 'appearing'. He didn't really have any colour to him, just kind of blue-grey. The man himself - if you want to call him a man, he hasn't been one for over two-hundred years now - well he was about twenty-five in appearance, once you got passed the rough exterior, he had after all, been a pirate. Hair, had probably been black; worn to his shoulders. Face was rough from days without a shave. Average height and build. Oh, and he had no feet... And not in the ghostly way, he said they'd been eaten by a shark-ghost, but Byron didn't believe him. So, he just.. floated, with his pant legs dangling to the ground.
"I don't have time for your games!" Byron shouted, then stomped threw - yes threw - Cleg the ghost, in the direction of the school. He didn't really care that he looked insane anymore, in fact, it didn't really even register.

[Vince_H8]

• devon atticus carthwright

It was a peaceful enough day. The sky was blue, the sun was shinning, birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing, ghosts were... ghosting? Yeah, just a normal day in the life of Byron Adenfelt. Wait. Ghosts? Oh, didn't I mention? Byron here can see ghosts. Really? Yeah, ghosts, spirits, souls, whatever you want to call them. Byron can see them.

"Who's that?" Byron whispered into empty air, "who's there?" His yellow-green eyes widened and flicked around, expecting for something to jump out at him any moment. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was now turning around and around in his spot in front of the building. What building you ask? A school, his new school - a school for beings with supernatual tendencies. To any on lookers, they would of seen a tall - about 6'1 - slightly built character doing sharp circles, and talking to himself. His short black hair was disheveled and flying about with each turn of the head. He was dressed like a typical biker - black leather jacket over top a white shirt. His jeans were worn and black as were his shoes. And he donned a pair of black sun glasses, that hid part of a scar reaching from the left side of his forehead, to just below his right eye.

"It's the ghost of Christmas past," the voice came from no where, and everywhere all at once; like it was in Byron's mind, stuck, implanted there, and no matter how much he dug it wouldn't go away.
The voice waited a few more seconds to watch Byron clench his eyes shut and hold his head, "it's me ya pansy, who the hell do ya think it is?" Byron knew that voice. He almost wished it was some other ghost. Scary ghost with no head? Sure, no problem! Monstrous ghost that can throw physical objects? Yeah, oh yeah, absolutely. But, there was nothing Byron hated more than this ghost. Nothing!

"Gawdammit, Cleg!" Byron opened his eyes and lowered his hands to rest at his hips. The male ghost slowly took a shape in front of him. He was still pretty see through when he was done 'appearing'. He didn't really have any colour to him, just kind of blue-grey. The man himself - if you want to call him a man, he hasn't been one for over two-hundred years now - well he was about twenty-five in appearance, once you got passed the rough exterior, he had after all, been a pirate. Hair, had probably been black; worn to his shoulders. Face was rough from days without a shave. Average height and build. Oh, and he had no feet... And not in the ghostly way, he said they'd been eaten by a shark-ghost, but Byron didn't believe him. So, he just.. floated, with his pant legs dangling to the ground.
"I don't have time for your games!" Byron shouted, then stomped threw - yes threw - Cleg the ghost, in the direction of the school. He didn't really care that he looked insane anymore, in fact, it didn't really even register.

[Vince_H8]

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOO➽ BELGAR S.
OOOO☾ bel
OOOO☾ nineteen years old
OOOO☾ flammingly gay
OOOO☾ #d25b87







OOOO➽ CALEB G.
OOOO☾ caleb
OOOO☾ twenty-two years old
OOOO☾ bisexual
OOOO☾ #665c99

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Wake up Caleb!" What was that whining voice he could hear? It sounded a lot like his childhood friend. But that couldn't be. He was in the House of Night; he had been for the last two years. Bel, dear Bel, had been crushed when Caleb had been marked. He'd had to leave everything behind. Including Bel.

Caleb squinted open his eyes. They protested, pleading for more sleep. Just a few more minutes! Please! But that voice that had woken him up, it was still going on, winning, telling him he needed to wake up.
Caleb blinked a few times, trying to focus his vision. Which didn't seem to be much use, since he'd pulled his covers up over his head.

A low groan escaped him when the covers were pulled off of him and he was left looking up at Bel. Who was bending over him so that his face was directly above Caleb's. He was smiling down at Caleb deviously.
"Eep!" A very unattractive squeal peeped out of him, and his hands automatically flew up to cover his mouth.
"Jesus, Bel!" Caleb rolled over onto his stomach to hide his face. Why was Bel here? At the House of Night...?

Caleb rolled back over on to his back looked at Bel. Really looked this time. He looked like his usual self. Short white hair falling into his eyes. Making his grey eyes half visible. But even behind that hair they were sparkling with excitement. He'd always had this porcelain pale skin that never tanned. He even had his ever present tiara atop his head. But he was wearing a third former jacket, with the silver spiral embroidered onto the it.

Caleb's eyes widened and his hand reached out to his friend. His fingers gently brushed Bel's bangs away from his forehead. There it was. The outline of a sapphire crescent moon. He remembered now. Yesterday had been when Bel arrived. He hadn't been allowed to see him in the infirmary. It was pretty standard that they keep a new fledgling there for the first little while.

"Yes, yes, I'm here, and I'm a fledgling," Bel said as he slapped Caleb's hand away, stood up right and started to tug on Caleb's impractically long hair pulled back into a pony tail, "can you please stop gawking and get up so that we can eat!?"

Caleb shook his head to clear the shock and swung his feet off the side of his bed.
"Okay, I'm awake, just give me a few moments to get ready,"
Bel sighed and watched as Caleb stood and staggered into the bathroom.

[Vince_H8]

CALEB J. GREY
In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear,
Don't you know, you fool, you never can win?
Use your mentality, wake up to reality.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - ★

The kitchen was pretty quiet, aside from the blue eyed boy's sobs. In fact, it was almost a little too quiet. Usually the bar area - just outside the kitchen - had some sort of hum coming from it. But, as far as Caleb could tell, it was dead silent out there. Was Bel even out there still? Yes, of course he is, Caleb declared. Bel didn't go anywhere without Caleb. He wouldn't dare risk going out by himself. Not with how much blood had been spilled recently.

"You do not have to be sorry," Caleb whispered. He wasn't sure how much time had passed while he was holding Stanley, but it didn't feel long enough. Caleb wasn't ready to let go. He wanted to keep his arms around Stanley. And he was afraid that once this moment had passed Stanley wouldn't be quite as willing to let Caleb hold him again for a long while.

Caleb stepped back slightly so that he could look down at Stanley, but continue to have his arms around the boy, "and you look good to me," Caleb said with a hint of naughty and a flash of teeth. He couldn't help trying to make the situation lighter with a little bit of flirt. Who could blame him though? It was hard to see Stanley this sad

But, he hadn't been lying. Stanley did look good. He always did. At least to Caleb he did. He probably looked good to most people. With eyes that blue, it was hard not to be completely under his spell when looking into them.

[Vince_H8]

BELGAR K. STANFORD
In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear,
Don't you know, you fool, you never can win?
Use your mentality, wake up to reality.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - ★

Jason eyed Chie as he sat down in his spot. Though it was no longer the suspicious glare he often gave just about everyone else. He trusted that Chie wouldn't touch him. Even with him so close he knew he could trust Chie, before even himself.
The small childish gestures still composed within the mans body, even at the age of nineteen. He truly was still very much the a child. It made Jason feel old. Chid had a year on him, but that didn't change their mind set.
He watched as Chie sat his head on his knee, letting his hair stray out in front of him to cover both his eyes from Jason's gaze. The tiara on his head sliding forward on his head, threatening to take the leap from his head to the chair.

Jason sat up straighter in the chair, so that he was no longer curled up, but crossing his legs, facing Chie. Just as intent on Chie as the he seemed on Jason. He leaned in enough so that he could see the sparkling of the boys eyes behind the many strands of hair. He lifted a covered hand to the boys head and positioned the tiara on his head so that it wouldn't fall off.
After the deed, he leaned back to admire his handy work. He knew it wasn't that big of a deal. Or at least it shouldn't of been. But it was. The fact that he was comfortable enough to do such a thing was sort of unsettling.

Jason cleared his throat nervously as he settled back against the arm rest.
"I was merely curious," Jason shrugged. Again, a shrug that could mean whatever you wanted it to mean. No sign that he was about to elaborate on his explanation.
"If you could, would you go back to save your mother?" Jason looked away from Chie's face. Not being able to see his eyes was a little unsettling. Knowing that Chie could see his, but he couldn't return the gaze as certainly....☽

[Vince_H8]

┏XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX┓

ςαlεb grεy l bεlgαr stαnford
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☾
┗XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX┛

"Wake up Caleb!" What was that whining voice he could hear? It sounded a lot like his childhood friend. But that couldn't be. He was in the House of Night; he had been for the last two years. Bel, dear Bel, had been crushed when Caleb had been marked. He'd had to leave everything behind. Including Bel.

Caleb squinted open his eyes. They protested, pleading for more sleep. Just a few more minutes! Please! But that voice that had woken him up, it was still going on, winning, telling him he needed to wake up.
Caleb blinked a few times, trying to focus his vision. Which didn't seem to be much use, since he'd pulled his covers up over his head.

A low groan escaped him when the covers were pulled off of him and he was left looking up at Bel. Who was bending over him so that his face was directly above Caleb's. He was smiling down at Caleb deviously.
"Eep!" A very unattractive squeal peeped out of him, and his hands automatically flew up to cover his mouth.
"Jesus, Bel!" Caleb rolled over onto his stomach to hide his face. Why was Bel here? At the House of Night...?

Caleb rolled back over on to his back looked at Bel. Really looked this time. He looked like his usual self. Short white hair falling into his eyes. Making his grey eyes half visible. But even behind that hair they were sparkling with excitement. He'd always had this porcelain pale skin that never tanned. He even had his ever present tiara atop his head. But he was wearing a third former jacket, with the silver spiral embroidered onto the it.

Caleb's eyes widened and his hand reached out to his friend. His fingers gently brushed Bel's bangs away from his forehead. There it was. The outline of a sapphire crescent moon. He remembered now. Yesterday had been when Bel arrived. He hadn't been allowed to see him in the infirmary. It was pretty standard that they keep a new fledgling there for the first little while.

"Yes, yes, I'm here, and I'm a fledgling," Bel said as he slapped Caleb's hand away, stood up right and started to tug on Caleb's impractically long hair pulled back into a pony tail, "can you please stop gawking and get up so that we can eat!?"

Caleb shook his head to clear the shock and swung his feet off the side of his bed.
"Okay, I'm awake, just give me a few moments to get ready,"
Bel sighed and watched as Caleb stood and staggered into the bathroom.



"Come on, come on!" Bell whined as he tugged at the sleeve of Caleb's fifth former uniform. They were just outside of the cafe. Caleb was lazily walking behind Bel, as the shorter male tried to hurry him along. He'd had a shower but it hadn't woken him up enough.
"Caleb!" Bel again tugged on Caleb's waist length hair. It was out of his pony tail, and still a little damp from the shower.

"Would you quit it!?" Caleb almost growled down at Bel. The shorter boy took his hand back and looked up at Caleb with a cheeky smile.
Caleb grumbled something under his breath and followed Bel as they entered the cafe. He took a seat at one of the empty tables and watched as Bel made a bee line towards the food.

Caleb hated eating first thing after waking up. It always left him feeling like crap the rest of the day.
A long audible sigh bubbled out of Caleb's pale pink lips. He rest his elbow on the table and palmed his forehead. His eyes squeezed shut and he concentrated on his breathing, instead of the rising voices of people around him.

[Vince_H8]

• micah j. kean

"Ugh," pale lips breathed an unhappy sigh. It was morning now, and Micah was just remembering that he was still stuck on this hunk of rock they call 'earth'. His long thin body shifted on the queen sized bed restlessly hoping that he might be granted a few more moments of sleep before he was once again forced to try and figure out how he was going to repay his debt of one-hundred-thousand souls.

One-hundred-thousand souls, Micah repeated the number in his head, but still couldn't believe it. He was going to be stuck up here for an eternity. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it, he was immortal, so an eternity was something he had. That doesn't mean I want to spend it here, Micah pouted to himself

In one swift motion Micah threw the pink light red sheets off of the bed and got up. There was no rest for him, not when he hadn't even been able to collect just one in a month the time that he'd been here. What can I say? He was a lousy soul collector.

Am not.

Are too.

How?!

Lazy, goofs off on the job, unmotivated, isn't good at converting humans, doesn't work well with others, can't even stand being around humans. I can continue if you'd like.

Fine, I get it. But how am I expected to work with humans? Vile creatures. And they're craftier than you'd think. They can sense me coming from a mile away.

Micah had, had more crosses shoved into his face in the last month, than in his entire life. Which by the way, didn't do a damn thing. All it was, was just really, really annoying. He didn't know what they expected, honestly.

Enough of this. . . . thinking, Micah walked into the bathroom, that was just off to the side of his motel room and turned on the shower. He stripped as the water warmed up then walked into the luxuriously sized shower. Guess that was one benefit to being a demon living on earth; he always got the best of the best.