TESTING STUFFS NO POASTY PLEASE

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

poast poast poast. haha

link to my testing for profiles: ARAR

link to old testing thread: RARA

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

STRUDE's.

ა ბ გ დ ე ვ ზ ჱ თ ი კ ლ მ ნ ჲ ო პ ჟ რ ს ტ ჳ უ ფ ქ ღ ყ შ ჩ ც ძ წ ჭ ხ ჴ ჯ ჰ ჵ ჶ ჷ

ℭ ℌ ℑ ℜ ℨ

ą α ß β Ь c Ð đ ∂ ε є э é Ғ ғ ╒ ƒ ġ Ħ ħ
н ι į ї J k ℓ м η ø σ φ p q я ѓ § Ş τ † ů v ω x y z

♡ † ♬ ™ ♀ ♂ ☼ ¼ ½ ¾ ¿ ★ ✔ ☓ ✗ ☣ ☭ ❝ ❞

ಠ_ಠ Ü ö Ö °__° ಥ__ಥ (๑￫ܫ￩)

๑•ิ.•ั๑ ๑۩۞۩๑ ♬✿.｡.:* ☂☃ ☄ ★ ☆ ☇ ☈ ☉ ☊ ☋ ☌ ☍ ☑ ☒☢ ☸ ☹ ☺ ☻ ☼ ☽ ☾ ♠ 　 ♡ ♢ ♣

♤ ♥ ♦ ♧ ♨ ♩ ✙✈ ✉ ✌ ✁ ✎ ✐ ❀ ✰ ❁ ❤ ❥ ❦❧ ➳ ➽ εїз℡❣·۰•●○●

ゃōゃ♥ ♡๑۩ﺴ ☜ ☞ ☎ ☏♡ ⊙◎ ☺ ☻✖╄ஐﻬ ► ◄ ▧ ▨ ♨ ◐ ◑ ↔ ↕ ▪ ▫ ☼ ♦ ▀ ▄ █▌ ▐░ ▒ ▬♦ ◊ ◦

☼ ♠♣ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▦ ▩ ◘ ◙ ◈ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♩ ♭ ♪ の ☆ → あ ぃ ￡ ❤ ｡◕‿◕｡

＃ ＠ ＆ ＊ ￥☸ ❁ ❀ ✿ ✾ ❃ ✺ ❇ ❈ ❊ ❉ ✱ ✲ ✩ ✫ ✬ ✭ ✮ ✰ ☆ ★ ✪ ¤ ☼ ☀ ☽ ☾ ❤

♡ ღ☻ ☺ ❂ ◕ ⊕ ☉ Θ o O ♋ ☯ ㊝ ⊙ ◎ ◑ ◐ ۰ • ● ▪ ▫ ｡ ﾟ ๑ ☜ ☞ ☂ ♨ ☎ ☏

︻ ︼ ︽ ︾ 〈 〉 ︿ ﹀ ∩ ∪ ﹁ ﹂ ﹃ ﹄﹝ ﹞ ＜ ＞ ≦ ≧ ﹤ ﹥ 「 」 ︵ ︶ ︷ ︸ ︹ ︺〔 〕 【 】 《 》 （ ） ｛ ｝ ﹙ ﹚ 『 』 ﹛ ﹜╳ ＋ － ﹢ × ÷ ＝ ≠ ≒ ∞ ˇ ± √ ⊥ ∠ ∟ ⊿ ㏒

▶ ▷ ◀ ◁ ☀ ☁ ☂ ☃ ☄ ★ ☆ ☇ ☈ ☉ ☊ ☋ ☌ ☍ ☑ ☒☢ ☸ ☹ ☺ ☻ ☼ ☽ ☾ ♠ 　 ♡ ♢ ♣ ♤ ♥ ♦ ♧ ♨ ♩ ✙ ✈ ✉ ✌ ✁ ✎ ✐ ❀ ✰ ❁ ❤ ❥ ❦❧ ➳ ➽ 〠 〄 ㍿ ♝ ♞

♯♩♪♫♬♭♮ ☎ ☏ ☪ ♈ ♨ ºº ₪ ¤ 큐 « » ™ ♂✿ ♥ の ↑ ↓ ← → ↖ ↗ ↙ ↘ ㊣ ◎ ○ ● ⊕ ⊙ ○　 △ ▲ ☆ ★ ◇ ◆ ■ □ ▽ ▼ § ￥ 〒 ￠ ￡ ※ ♀ ♂ © ® ⁂ ℡ ↂ░ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▦ ▧

✐✌✍✡✓✔✕✖ ♂ ♀ ♥ ♡ ☜ ☞ ☎ ☏ ⊙ ◎ ☺ ☻ ► ◄ ▧ ▨ ♨ ◐ ◑ ↔ ↕ ♥ ♡ ▪ ▫ ☼ ♦ ▀ ▄ █ ▌ ▐

░ ▒ ▬ ♦ ◊ ◘ ◙ ◦ ☼ ♠ ♣ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▦ ▩ ◘ ◙ ◈ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♩ ♭ ♪ ✄☪☣☢☠

ⅰⅱⅲⅳⅴⅵⅶ ⅷⅸⅹⅺⅻⅠⅡⅢⅣⅤⅥⅦ Ⅷ Ⅷ ⅨⅩⅪⅫ

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

✗✘✚✪✣✤✥✦✧✩✫✬✭✮✯✰ ✱✲✳❃❂❁❀✿✾✽✼✻✺✹✸✷

✶✵✴❄❅❆❇❈❉❊❋❖☀☂☁【】┱ ┲ ❣ ✚ ✪ ✣ ✤ ✥ ✦ ❉ ❥ ❦ ❧ ❃ ❂ ❁ ❀ ✄ ☪ ☣ ☢

☠ ☭ ♈ ➸ ✓ ✔ ✕ ✖ *.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:

≧０≦ o(╥﹏╥)o //(ㄒoㄒ)// ™ぷ▂▃▅▆█ ∏ ※◤ ◥ ﹏﹋﹌ ∩∈∏ ╰☆╮≠→№←

︵︶︹︺ 【】〖〗＠﹕﹗/ " _ < > `,·。≈{}~ ～() _ -『』√ $ @ * & # ※卐 々∞Ψ ∪∩∈∏ の ℡ ぁ §∮〝〞ミ灬ξ№∑⌒ξζω＊ㄨ ≮≯ ＋－×÷﹢﹣±／＝∫∮∝ ∞ ∧∨ ∑ ∏ ∥∠ ≌ ∽ ≦ ≧ ≒﹤﹥じ☆

■♀『』◆◣◥▲Ψ ※◤ ◥ →№←㊣∑⌒〖〗＠ξζω□∮〓※∴ぷ▂▃▅▆█ ∏卐【】△√ ∩¤々♀♂∞①ㄨ

≡↘↙▂▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █┗┛╰☆╮ ≠ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅┢┦aΡｐy ♡^_^♡　^_^.......♧♧ ☜♥☞.︻︼─一　▄︻┻┳═一

﹏◢ ◣ ◥ ◤ ▽ ▧ ▨ ▣ ▤ ▥ ▦ ▩ ◘ ◙ ▓ ▒ ░ Café № ＠ ㊣ ™ ℡ 凸 の ๑۞๑ ๑۩ﺴ ﺴ۩๑ o(‧'''‧)o ❆ べò⊹⊱⋛⋋

⋌⋚⊰⊹ ⓛⓞⓥⓔ べ ☀ ☼ ☜ ☞ ⊙® ◈ ♦ ◊ ◦ ◇ ◆ εїз

☆·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸¸.¤ ~♡のⓛⓞⓥⓔ♡~☃⊹⊱⋛⋌⋚⊰⊹✗/(*w*) ≡[。。]≡※◦º°×°º◦εїз´¯`·»｡｡

♀♡╭☆╯ºØغøº¤ø,¸¸,ºº¤øøºﷲﷲ°º¤ø,¸¸,

げこごさざしじすぜそぞただちぢっつづてでとどなにぬねのはば ♪♫╭♥ ๑•ิ.•ัﻬஐ ✎ぱひびぴふぶぷへべぺほぼぽまみむめも

❃❂❁❀✿✾✽✼✻✺✹✸✷ ✶✵✴❄❅❆❇❈❉❊❋❖❤❥❦❧ ☀ o O ＃♡ ┽┊﹎.εїз︷✿‧:﹎｡

❤‧:❉:‧ .｡.:*･❀●•♪.。‧:❉:‧ °º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø*.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:*.:｡✿*ﾟ’ﾟ･✿.｡✎*εїз

↔ ↕ ▪ → ︷╅╊✿ (¯`•._.• •._.•´¯)(¯`•¸•´¯) ❤`•.¸¸.•´´¯`•• .¸¸.•´¯`•.•●•۰• ••.•´¯`•.•• ••.•´¯`•.••—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤——(•·÷[ ]÷·•)—

〓 ☆ ★┣┓┏┫×╰ノ◢ ◣ ◥ ◤ Ω ж ф юЮ ━╃ ╄━ ┛┗ ┓┏ ◇ ◆ ※ .'. ☂.'.❤ ♥ 『』 〖〗▓ ► ◄

▒ ░ ▓ ╮╭ ╯╰ ァ ┱ ┲☃ ☎ ☏ ☺ ☻ ▧ ▨ ♨ ◘ ◙ ♠ ♧ ♣ ▣▤ ▥ ▦ ▩ ⊕

׺°”˜`”°º× ׺°”˜`”°º×»-(¯`v´¯)-» ×÷·.·´¯`·)» «(·´¯`·.·÷×*∩_∩* ⓛⓞⓥⓔ ╬ ╠ ╣∷ ღ ☃ ❆ ￡ ∆ ? Õ Ő ő ∞ © ‡ † ? ஜ ஒ ண இ ஆ ௰

♪♪♫▫—(•·÷[ ]÷·•)— ·÷±‡±±‡±÷· Oº°‘¨ ¨‘°ºO •°o.O O.o°• ¨°o.O O.o°¨—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—•·.·´¯`·.·• •·.·´¯`·.·•´`·.(`·.¸ ¸.·´).·´`·»

»-(¯`v´¯)-»█┗┛↘↙╰☆╮ ≠ ☜♥☞ ︻︼─一　▄︻┻┳═一 -─═┳︻　∝╬══→　::======>>　☆═━┈┈━═☆　┣▇▇▇═─ ■◆◣◥▲◤ ◥〓∴ぷ▂▃▅▆█ 【】

๑۞๑ ๑۩ﺴ ﺴ۩๑๑۩۞۩...¤¸¸.·´¯`·.¸·..>>--» [[]] «--<<..·.¸¸·´¯`·.¸¸¤... .•:*´¨`*:•.☆۩ ۞ ۩ ۩ ۞

۩☆•:*´¨`*:•. ❤`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´❤

⊹⊱⋛⋋ ⋌⋚⊰⊹ 彡 ❝❞° ﹌﹎ ╱╲ ☁ ₪ ¡ Þ ௫ μ べ ☪ ☠ ╬ ╠ ╣∷ ღ :﹗/ " _ < > `,·。≈ {}~ ～() - √ $ * &

# ※＊≮≯ ＋－× ÷﹢±／＝∫∮∝ ∧∨∥∠ ≌ ∽ ≦ ≧ ≒﹤﹥じ

①②③④⑤⑥⑦⑧⑨⑩ ⑪⑫⑬⑭⑮⑯⑰⑱⑲⑳ ⒶⒷⒸⒹⒺⒻ ⒼⒽⒾⒿⓀⓁ ⓂⓃⓄⓅⓆⓇ

ⓈⓉⓊⓋⓌⓍ ⓎⓏ ⓐⓑⓒⓓⓔⓕ ⓖⓗⓘⓙⓚⓛ ⓜⓝⓞⓟⓠⓡ ⓢⓣⓤⓥⓦⓧ ⓨⓩ

凸(⊙▂⊙✖ )(づ￣ ³￣)づヾ（*⌒ヮ⌒*）ゞ ( c//"-}{-*x) (-'๏_๏'-) (◐ o ◑ ) (⊙...⊙ )｡◕‿◕｡ ๏[-ิ_•ิ]๏(•ิ_•ิ)? (•ิ_•ิ)

(/•ิ_•ิ)/

(︶︹︺)(*-`ω´- )人(ц｀ω´ц*)(●ゝω)ノヽ(∀＜●)(ㄒoㄒ)(>_< wink ⊙▂⊙ ⊙０⊙ ⊙︿⊙　⊙ω⊙　⊙﹏⊙　⊙△⊙　⊙▽⊙ o(‧'''‧)o (◡‿◡✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕〝◕) (∩_∩)ミ●﹏☉ミ (≧０≦) o(╥﹏╥)o

㋀ ㋁ ㋂ ㋃ ㋄ ㋅ ㋆ ㋇ ㋈ ㋉ ㋊ ㋋

㏠ ㏡ ㏢ ㏣ ㏤ ㏥ ㏦ ㏧ ㏨ ㏩ ㏪ ㏫ ㏬ ㏭ ㏮ ㏯ ㏰ ㏱ ㏲ ㏳ ㏴ ㏵ ㏶ ㏷ ㏸ ㏹ ㏺ ㏻ ㏼ ㏽ ㏾

㍘ ㍙ ㍚ ㍛ ㍜ ㍝ ㍞ ㍟ ㍠ ㍡ ㍢ ㍣ ㍤ ㍥ ㍦ ㍧ ㍨ ㍩ ㍪ ㍫ ㍬ ㍭ ㍮ ㍯ ㍰

ツ ღ ♪ ♠ ♥ ♣ ™ © ¤ ✖ ✖ ✖ || ౦ ౦ ౦ ℓ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ￭ ￭ ￭ ☠ ☠ ☠ ● » √ Ξ ♫ ♪ ☼ ○ ▒ ♦ ◕ ◡ ◕

~ | ¡ ¿ † ‡ ↔ ↑ ↓ • ¶ # ¹ ² ³ ½ ⅓ ⅔ ¼ ¾ ⅛ ⅜ ⅝ ⅞ ∞ ‘ “ ’ ” «» ¤ ₳ ฿ ₵ ¢ ₡ ₢ $ ₫ ₯ € ₠ ₣ ƒ ₴ ₭ ₤ ℳ ₥ ₦ № ₧ ₰ £ ៛ ₨ ₪ ৳ ₮ ₩ ¥ ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

Á á Ć ć É é Í í Ĺ ĺ Ń ń Ó ó Ŕ ŕ Ś ś Ú ú Ý ý Ź ź À à È è Ì ì Ò ò Ù ù  â Ĉ ĉ Ê ê Ĝ ĝ Ĥ ĥ Î î Ĵ ĵ Ô ô Ŝ ŝ Û û Ŵ ŵ Ŷ ŷ Ä ä Ë ë Ï ï Ö ö Ü ü Ÿ ÿ ß Ã ã Ẽ ẽ Ĩ ĩ Ñ ñ Õ õ Ũ ũ Ỹ ỹ Ç ç Ģ ģ Ķ ķ Ļ ļ Ņ ņ Ŗ ŗ Ş ş Ţ ţ Đ đ Ů ů Ǎ ǎ Č č Ď ď Ě ě Ǐ ǐ Ľ ľ Ň ň Ǒ ǒ Ř ř Š š Ť ť Ǔ ǔ Ž ž Ā ā Ē ē Ī ī Ō ō Ū ū ǖ ǘ ǚ ǜ Ă ă Ĕ ĕ Ğ ğ Ĭ ĭ Ŏ ŏ Ŭ ŭ Ċ ċ Ė ė Ġ ġ İ ı Ż ż Ą ą Ę ę Į į Ų ų Ł ł Ő ő Ű ű Ŀ ŀ Ħ ħ Ð ð Þ þ Œ œ Æ æ Ø ø Å å Ə ə •

Ά ά Έ έ Ή ή Ί ί Ό ό Ύ ύ Ώ ώ Α α Β β Γ γ Δ δ Ε ε Ζ ζ Η η Θ θ Ι ι Κ κ Λ λ Μ μ Ν ν Ξ ξ Ο ο Π π Ρ ρ Σ σ ς Τ τ Υ υ Φ φ Χ χ Ψ ψ Ω ω • •

А а Б б В в Г г Ґ ґ Ѓ ѓ Д д Ђ ђ Е е Ё ё Є є Ж ж З з Ѕ ѕ И и І і Ї ї Й й Ј ј К к Ќ ќ Л л Љ љ М м Н н Њ њ О о П п Р р С с Т т Ћ ћ У у Ў ў Ф ф Х х Ц ц Ч ч Џ џ Ш ш Щ щ Ъ ъ Ы ы Ь ь Э э Ю ю Я я

ŋ ə ⁿ•

– — … ° ≈ ≠ ≤ ≥ ± − × ÷ ← → · §

๑☺ ☻ ☼♣ ♥ ♦·۰•●○●ஐﻬ↔ ↕ ▪ ▫ ▬♦ ◊ ◦♫ ♪ ♪ღˇ √ « » ™ ♂♀ ©№®@ ◦º°×°º◦ ´¯`·»ºØغøº¤ø,¸¸,ºº¤øøºﷲﷲ°º¤ø,¸¸ ´¯`•.•●•۰• ••.•´¯`•.•• ׺°”˜`”°º×»- ஆ ௰
Þ ௫

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

>>CATHAN DOLAN GORMAN
it's been a long time coming and it's finally come to this

we'll sing song, a soldier's song
with cheering rousing chorus
as round our blazing fires we throng
the starry heavens o'er us

☠

POST

impatient for the coming fight
and as we wait the morning's light
here in the silence of the night
we'll chant a soldier's song
☠

------------------------------------------------------------
take a look at him now, he's a soldier, he's colder, he's older
they have trained your boy to kill and kill someday he will

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

✖ DARCY RYLEE BRIZENDINE✖

it never happened before when we were playing
it's serious now
cos someone's luck runs out tonight
it's a terrible fright

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POSTING CODE

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we’ll sit for days and talk about things
important to us like whatever
we'll defuse bombs and walk marathons
and take on whatever, together

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

>> c h a r l e s BLACKWOOD
_xx aka r i c h a r d _ c r o z i e r <<
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

i am the teacher
come to reach you
take the old words back to you
you were lost
but I found you
and it's your choice what to do
i've learned a few things
as I've traveled
throughthe years

r

now i know you
and you know me
we have secrets we can share
we can build a new tomorrow
from the trash of yesterday

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
the M A G I C I A N is my name
and magic is my game ~

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

;; s i r i u s BLACK <<

POST

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

>> c h a r l e s BLACKWOOD
_xx aka r i c h a r d _ c r o z i e r <<
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

i am the teacher
come to reach you
take the old words back to you
you were lost
but I found you
and it's your choice what to do
i've learned a few things
as I've traveled
throughthe years

Having decided that the best way to deal with Camilla for now was to completely withdraw his attentions from her unless deliberately provoked into response. Instead, he focused his attentions on Daisy, his partner for the rest of the day. As he smiled politely at her, he wondered what in the hell had happened; not only was he paired with someone who seemed as disinterested in him as he was in her, but the other choices for females was....well, not any more appealing. There was Camilla, who was incredibly rude and frustrating, and another female who seemed to lack any real amount of personality. His gaze flicked over to where she was, and noticed she was staring off into space. An empty head and pretty face might delight some men, but he was a man of character who believed in much more than simply the face. No companion could be found that had an empty head. Of course, he thought Camilla had rather too much going on in her head; she was a cheeky brat, that one. She seemed to be able to comport herself with as much class as she might be thought to be capable of mustering. At least she had some self-control, he mused. She wouldn't have been invited here if she couldn't carry herself with composure when she applied herself to it. He had no doub that his opinion of her had been poisioned by his first impression of her in the carriage, but he didn't spare a thought to consider what she had thought of him. For someone whose livelihood depended so much upon being able to read his audience, he seemed to fail spectacularly at seeing into the heart of most females. Sure, there were your easily read females, but for some reason it was his weakness. He was harsh and judgmental, just as he expected others to be. Being judged harshly, however, was another story. Sure, he expected to be judged with a critical eye because he felt that his skills demanded it, but when he was criticized he did not take it so well, considering it a personal insult.

In a mangificent stroke of luck, it seemed that Camilla would perpetuate his belief in her lack of manners by shooting him a smug glance. Okay, so smugness was essentially a part of his personality, but he couldn't stand it in others (and failed to notice it in himself). As she cast him a look, he merely arched an incredulous eyebrow, as if to say that retaliation, or even real acknowledgement of her behavior, was well beneath him. Turning his head immediately, he cast his eyes upward, straining the ocular muscles in a personal expression of irritation. He had no idea that she would be able to see past her dislike of him to appreciate his magic tricks, because he had a hard time appreciating art for the sake of art if he had negative feelings toward its creator. He was a passionate man, and everything he felt permeated his mind. As he listened to her conversation with Zayne, his thoughts were full of derision. Pfft. Of course she hadn't been in invited to a fancy manor in a long time. I'm surprised that her manners afford her any civil company! She ought to learn to control herself better. He felt the slightest nagging as he tried to recall his own behavior, wondering if something he had done could really have prompted her to act in such a way to him. Finding little fault with his own actions that excused her behavior, he smiled to himself, though he directed it toward Daisy. He went through all of the motions as she introduced herself, idly wondering (yet again) why on earth he was here, surrounded by such mundane female company (Camilla excluded, though not in any complimentary way), with little possibility of escape. Perhaps Daisy was simply shy, or reserved and cautious about reveiling her brilliant personality until she knew he too was an interesting character. Well, he could hope, right?

"Miss...Daisy, then. I am feeling quite fortunate to have been paired with such a beauty as yourself." He caught up her hand and planted a soft kiss upon it to fortify his statement. "Hm, a lovely evening indeed; and what greater pleasure is there than spending a lovely evening among such amiable company? It is a delight to make your acquaintance." He forced a smile, feeling a muscle twitch slightly in his jaw, he realized that it was rather clenched and so he allowed it to relax into a more natural smile. He was vaguely surprised that she would offer just her first name, but he went along with it. He wanted to ask her about her background and where she was from, but if he could figure out if it was an appropriate question, he would not ask until later. Though he had intended to leave her side and go introduce himself to the pianist, he threw away that plan as rude and boorish, and decided he would weather out this awkward conversation until she closed the conversation herself. Besides; if the pianist really wanted company he ought to seek Charles out himself; for Charles was not so desperate for amiable conversation yet that he would seek it out so readily. No, now that he thought about it, it would be great fun to challenge himself and see how well he could fare in this situation. Let Miss Daisy do her worst.

As the doctor went around providing refreshment for all of his guests, Charles took it as a very welcome break. "Thank you very much, Dr. Edwards, very kind of you." He graciously accepted the drink, though he merely posed holding it, not drinking from it. He rarely drank during parties, prefering to be quite at his best mental capacity; that way, should anything arise, his mind would not be befuddled. Besides, he did not enjoy making a fool of himself and waking up with little more than a headache and wounded ego as a reward. He took a very small sip as he waited for Daisy to respond, his gaze following Dr. Edwards as he mentioned that he was going to check on the status of dinner. This was good news indeed! Hopefully platters of food would distract them from the present scenario, and nothing encouraged amiable conversation like food and drink.

{{ hostile>>I look forward to antagonizing your character
;D

Sorry guys, for not posting for so long....and for it being short
D: }}

now i know you
and you know me
we have secrets we can share
we can build a new tomorrow
from the trash of yesterday

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
the M A G I C I A N is my name
and magic is my game ~

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

;; s i r i u s BLACK <<

People were weak and stupid. Sirius did not include himself and a choice number of people in this thought, but as a whole, people were weak and stupid. He didn't mean weak in physical strength, because any dumb brute can be big and strong. No, strength of mind, intelligence. Perhaps it was not a very objective thought, but it was his nonetheless, and if it wasn't something he thought of often, it was first in his mind when he was feeling annoyed or irritated. It was part of the reason he treated so many people so contemptibly, with seemingly little regard as to their emotional happiness. He wasn't inherently mean or cruel, and a part of his actions was borne from an inability to really understand in addition to a lack of empathy on the whole. People idolized him, for what? What did he do that was special? The only answer he could come up with was that they were weak and recognized his mental prowess, his inability to be tricked by such a foolish idea of "popularity". It simply added to his coolness that he acted aloof, staring down at everyone while offering them a grin as compensation, a smile that spoke of a laughing pity. His romantic life was rife with it; all those girls that were foolish enough to think they could change Sirius were fooling themselves, and it wasn't his fault they wanted to take a chance. His passion was fierce, and his reputation well known. Weak and stupid.

Very very few people had shown him he was wrong, and so he maintained this belief. As long as females kept throwing themselves at him, he would gladly accept them; they knew what they were getting themselves into, and had themselves to blame when their feelings got hurt. You couldn't get close to everyone; James had happened by accident, and James Potter was the only person Sirius felt close to. Their relationship was of closest of brothers, and he could not even let Remus or Peter into the workings of his mind, much less all the girls that confessed to him. Perhaps that was one reason why he enjoyed the relationship he shared with Andy; though he knew he made her angry, the almost twisted pleasure he received from their quarrels was mired in respect for her as one of the few females that were not dazzled by his charms. At the particular moment that she was berating and mocking him, he heard few of her words. All he could think of was that he realized that she was one of the few people whose company he really, truly enjoyed. The thought left him rather baffled, and he realized he ought to take some time to evaluate his situation--anger resurfaced as he remembered the reason why he had little time for his daily rumination, and they stood before him, cheeky and defiantly focused upon hating and shaming him.

"At least I don't go out charming every guy in the school, and then throw them away like they're nothing. As if I'm better than them. Get over yourself, Sirius..." He arched an eyebrow as she stuck her tongue out at him and turned around, continuing in her childish ignorance. He put on a cheeky grin and swaggered toward her, leaning forward as he talked to her, staring straight into her eyes. "Get over myself?" He posed as if in deep reflection as to the possibility of her words, but he was really having a laugh at her expense. Oh, Andy, if only you knew how many boys here had pined after you. He debated whether or not to point out how many members belonged to the informal fan club that was dedicated to the beauty and grace of Hogwart's Andy Lockhart. He, of course, was not a member, though he did enjoy teasing the poor fellows. They had less of a chance of gaining her affections than he had; after all, they had a relationship. Fighting is more of a relationship than secretly idolizing--negative attention is better than none, and in all those cheesy romance stories, doesn't the couple end up falling in love at the end despite their prejudices against each other? Sirius wasn't much of a fan of romance stories, but he was not the type to abstain from something simply because of a stigma; if it was an interesting story, he would read it. If it was fluff made for young ignorant girls who just wanted to daydream, it wasn't worth his time--but neither was the story that had little imagination and a lot of violence, catering only to the blindly aggressive boors. A good story was a good story despite the context. As for the cliched stories, he had once had a girlfriend who had been obsessed and when in good humor he would watch her films and listen to her stories in order to stay on her good side.

He didn't often talk about his love life, even with male friends. There were many things in his past that he was loathe to remember, and his three real girlfriends had not given him a very good impression about girls and romance as a whole, but he couldn't help being a bit of a romantic; the chase was the best part, the obstacles to overcome before one could declare their passion and the thrill and racing heart as you waited for a response, fighting against hope in preparation for the rejection sure to come. Just because he was very rarely rejected didn't mean he didn't get enjoyment out of the possibility. He was simply a rogue romantic, a rebellious and ardent lover of the art and finesse it took to be the sort of...Casanova as he was. He didn't like the word playboy, it made it seem as those all of the work he put into it was nothing. He didn't treat the girls he took up with poorly save for when the end came, as they always knew it would. So they deluded themselves that they were different, it wasn't his fault--he always made it quite plain. With his face close to hers, his own childishness won out. Leaning even closer, so that he could speak into her ear, he took a breath and paused before stating one single word. ".....Hypocrite." He sniggered, hissing the word accusingly as he straightened his back and turned, taking a few paces away from her. He trusted her mostly because of her personality and the fact that she wanted to be Sirius' very opposite, but also because he had the feeling that she would not feel quite so victorious if she did not win completely and fairly. As for being his opposite, though he was not one to cheat unless it was a grave consequence for losing (or if Snape and Filch bore the brunt of the consequences), he was quite certain she expected him to cheat as much as possible to win. He would have been offended if it wasn't so entertaining!

"Yeah, don't bother plaguing them. Please, oh please, plague us."
He swiveled around in one smooth action, a grin plastered on his face again. Surpressin gthe urge to laugh, he assumed his gentlemanly manner. "Why should I plague anyone else? No one else would play the game so well, and you do the part nicely, Andy. And you too, Lily, but forgive me if I...leave you out of this scenario a bit. I do not wish to overstep my bounds with the woman my 'brother' admires." He flashed her a charming smile--though mostly genuine, it was a bit sneaky. He used the word brother to refer to James, in a figurative sense with multifaceted meanings. "Anyway, Andy, as it seems you well know, if I treated any other girl the way I treat you, they'd either cry or fall in love with me. And I can't think of any two things that could be more annoying than those." He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he glanced over at the lake, nonchalantly turning so that she was to his left rather than facing her. He stared off over the water, wondering if they'd bugger off or if he'd just have to look for some other place. He certainly didn't want to just go to sleep, especially not now. "Why am I out here?" He repeated his question, glancing down at his feet. "None of your business, anyway, is it? I thought you two weren't going to talk to me? Or is this how you pretend I don't exist?" He smiled brilliantly, hoping that he was acting in an infuriating manner. He glanced down at Lily who was playing passive spectator to this spar.

"Why are you out here? I know you don't pay much heed to the rules and regulations of the world Andy, but for you Lily? And I didn't realize that the both of you held as little regard for the rules as I do. Perhaps we have more in common than you thought, no?" The last was directed at Andy rather than Lily. "Shouldn't you be resting?" He asked suddenly, staring up at the night sky. "It is late, and you have to save your energy for some thorough spying tomorrow, not to mention all the energy you'll need when...I win, and....you....lose." He stretched out the last few words for effect, eyebrows raised inquisitively to watch her reaction.

Sirius was excited about the coming day, but he would have to watch himself. Flirtation and flattery were his very nature, and he knew it would be very troublesome to have to check his every action and reaction. He had made sure people knew about it so that the girls who still pined for him would aid him in his victory in the hopes that they would be favored above all the others. Perhaps he would favor them, it depends on how he felt after winning or losing. Sure, it was a bit underhanded and cruel, but he was sure there would be a number of people secretly working behind (for he was sure she was not the type to outright cheat) Andy's back to help her beat him--out of either revenge or a dislike for the circumstances if he won. After all, she'd be subject to a lot more than humiliation at his hands if he won, he was sure of that--oh, he had plans. Yes, he had plans...

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

✖ DARCY RYLEE BRIZENDINE✖

it never happened before when we were playing
it's serious now
cos someone's luck runs out tonight
it's a terrible fright

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It was a damp alley way that boasted the devastating smell of garbage that had been sitting in a hot dumpster for weeks, with walls splattered with what looked suspiciously like blood, that a young woman stood defiantly staring up at a brick wall. She had scraggly fire-red hair that was pulled back in a messy ponytail, looking as if it had not been brushed for days. Her clothes were mismatched, with gray longjohns on underneath a pair of black jean shorts that were cut off just above her knee, a gray and black striped shirt, and sturdy-looking boots. Her hands rested on her hips as she contemplated the possibility of not being able to make it up onto the roof. There was not much room between the walls, so perhaps it was possible to scale it by pushing off on both walls; she had seen Bear Grylls do it once in a crevice on Man vs Wild. That had been one of her favorite shows, and who the hell cares if he didn't always sleep there, or if his team helped him? It was just a demonstration, after all. She was damn sure glad she had watched it so religiously, because his fun little lessons had been a great help lately. She had only tried that method once before, and in an alley much smaller than this one, so she was a bit skeptical about being able to climb up that way. Climb up she must, however, unless she wanted to stay trapped in this little corner just waiting for an Infected to find her.

Although she was very well prepared for this odd survival situation, the one thing she most completely lacked was a practical weapon. Sure, she had a knife, but it was only good in close range, and she didn't want to get close enough to an infected to use it. She had been searching lately for something she could use--what did people usually use as weapons in zombie stories, aside from guns? Baseball bats? She could only hope to find one. She kept a constant look out for any potential blunt object to use for defense. Until she did, however, she was simply going to stick to her survival plan of "get as high as possible"--and no, that didn't mean drugs, it meant climbing onto rooftops and precipices. She had observed the Infected from her rooftop perch for awhile now, and she had a little journal that she wrote them down in, along with the daily events that occurred--on the front was written "DARCY BRIZENDINE'S SURVIVAL", an optimistic declaration that showed her complete determination to survive this ordeal through any means necessary.

Through her observations, she had been able to discover some key survival tips; assimilate into their group by.....well, not washing. It wasn't hard to do, seeing as how what little (clean) water she found was immediately used for drinking water, and she witnessed a massive attack on a perfume shop in the downtown area. She had always wondered how the Infected knew which humans to attack. Perhaps the Infected gave off a certain signal, of scent or something. Or perhaps it was the healthy humans that gave off a scent? Either way, she figured not washing and steering clear of anything that smelled "clean" or "nice" would be a good choice. Darcy was afraid most of the time, yes, but the need to survive drowned out anything else until her mind was clear and focused, consumed with the need to remain calm. This was not difficult when there were no Infected in sight, but that just made Darcy all the more unsettled. Where were they? Maybe the sun light was just keeping them at bay. It had certainly been blazing earlier today, but now that it was so late in the afternoon, the light had begun to turn a golden hue as the sun made it's descent. This is why it was so important that Darcy figure out how to scale this wall. She had always enjoyed loitering among the rooftops, but now it was a necessity rather than a luxury. She knew that the infected could climb, she had seen it; but she had not seen them use their problem-solving skills in an effective manner. No, she was quite sure that if she had such great trouble climbing this wall, that it would be next to impossible for them. Climbing delicately up onto the stinking dumpster, she put her hands out and stretched them so that her palms were pressed against the rough brick.

She looked up; it would be dangerous, a long way down if she fell. She'd probably break a bone, and then what? She'd just be a sitting duck. Still, it was better than staying on the ground. She jokingly thought to herself that perhaps she ought to just spend the night in the dumpster. Surely that smell would drive even the most furious Infected away. A smile graced her face, and she resolved herself to the task at hand. Making sure her backpack was buckled securely over her shoulders, she braced herself and pushed up, catching her boots on either side of the wall. She was pressing against them both with all her might. The boots were perfect for her; they were sturdy, yet light and flexible. They did not impede her running or climbing, and were quite comfortable. As she scaled the wall, she focused all of her attention on shifting her hands and feet, almost forgetting about the dangerous fall below that awaited her if she should slip up, forgotten in the great thrill she received from the climb. It was always a rush; she was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and so danger was not new to her. She successfully reached the top, carefully maneuvering so that she had a good grasp on the ledge. Pushing off the opposite wall, she scrambled to pull her lower half up onto the roof. Once she did, she rolled over onto her back and let out the breath she had been holding in suspense. Gasping slightly from her racing heart, she held her hands up, frowning as she stared at the scratches received from the rough surface of the bricks. It hurt a little, but no matter.

She sat up and pulled off her backpack, rifling through. She pulled out a first aid kit (purchased at a drug store) and wiped her hands off with an anti-bacterial pad (no sense in taking chances there), pulled her knife out of her pocket and set it down beside her. She surveyed her surroundings, taking note of any possible entry point for an Infected. She had chosen this rooftop because it was near where she had been, and was in the open in the sense that she could see anything coming a mile away, and the only other rooftop that had access to this one (if the distance was jumped) was too high for an infected to survive--if they even managed to get up onto the other roof. She had had a successful run at the grocer's today, which had been her sole objective. She devoured two energy bars and a bottle of water as she sat and waited for the night to fall, she pulled out a book from her pack and began reading in the dwindling sunlight.

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we’ll sit for days and talk about things
important to us like whatever
we'll defuse bombs and walk marathons
and take on whatever, together

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

>>CATHAN DOLAN GORMAN
it's been a long time coming and it's finally come to this

we'll sing song, a soldier's song
with cheering rousing chorus
as round our blazing fires we throng
the starry heavens o'er us

☠

Disaster. A complete, utter disaster. Oh, he loved it...

Cathan reclined in a luxurious armchair, wearing his newly washed, crisp uniform and shined boots. Pinned upon his breast was a green badge that bore an image of two crossed swords, an insignia that denoted his rank in the military. Quite currently, Colonel Cathan Gorman was the highest ranking officer in all of Ireland. The supreme authority, representing the state. It was...delightful. Cathan loved to be in control, and not the false sense of control one might impose on others by being clever, no--this was real, validated power that everyone recognized. He deserved it, after all--one of the few who was willing to stay behind, willing to "risk his life" for "the good of the country". Yeah, right. He was not the type to stay out of the fray, no; he highly valued his life, but he also valued his personal happiness, and for him, boredom was a sin. His only means of pleasure was through the struggle of others, through action; death, destruction, obliteration. He would do anything to achieve his goals, and his primary goal was usually....entertainment. He had always liked his job. If he hadn't, he certainly would not have stayed in the army, climbing up rank by rank. His poor morality was kept in check by not only the law, but his own desire for self-control. It was all a big game to him, seeing how well he could guise his true self, how fast he could make his way up the ranks. Now, of course, little of that mattered. His orders; who would check that he carried them out? Only a few of the officers that served under him knew anything about what his orders were. The regiment under his command did as he commanded, and there was no law for him to answer to. He assumed realistically that he would not survive this ordeal, and he was reconciled to the fact. He would much rather die in a bloody battle than die of old age. It had little to do with honor, for he felt it no necessity. No, it was the idea of dying surrounded by death that was a result of his own actions was what satisfied him on that account.

No appeal to his kindness, no appeal to his sympathy had ever worked. Those that begged for their lives deserved them even less. He had taken many lives, and had it not been for his being a legal professional killer, he'd have been branded as a murderer and thrown in jail long ago. They would have called him a psychopath, someone unable to feel empathy or anxiety, with lack of control and poor judgment. He knew he was different, he was above any such lable, he wasn't....crazy. Just sensible, a realist who looked out for his own interests. He had a great amount of self control that allowed him such a luxurious lifestyle where he could satisfy his needs and desires without the repercussions. People are more willing to look the other way when you do something wrong if you are a Colonel, after all. While most were having trouble grasping with the idea of a lawless country plunged violently into anarchy, he was in raptures at finally being able to unleash his inner demon. People were falling into animalistic tendencies, killing their fellow man with as little hesitation as he; in a way, he felt akin to the Infected. They represented his pure, unbridled fury, his taste for blood, his desire to destroy everything that defied him, ravage everything beautiful and make it dirty.

He was currently sitting at a desk in the study of a once beautiful townhouse that had been transformed into army headquarters. Displayed in front of him was a stack of detailed maps. His fingers were tapping on a map of Menlough, where they were currently stationed. The flats surrounding the townhouse were used as garrisons for his soldiers, though they were not in full numbers anymore. They had once numbered in the hundreds, but many had been killed or worse--infected. Only his top ranking officers were allowed to stay in the townhouse with him, along with a defense squad that served as a sort of body guard to keep the house secure. Again, he wasn't afraid of death--but there was no reason to throw away your life, especially one as magnificent as his own. Menlough. It was his town now. They had mostly cleansed the perimeters of the neighborhood from Infected and had captured a great amount of supplies, including food, jewelry, money, clothing, and many other things. He had let his men run the town in a rampage, insinuating though never outright stating that they could take whatever they like, damage whatever they please, and kill anyone not in fatigues. He was not a chaste man, and so he was not one to deny his men what he would not deny himself. His sexual tastes were rather on the deviant side, tending toward violence (like much in his life). He used to act the part of a gentleman, but now it was not necessary. Slave trade, some of the high and mighty might call it, but along with the supplies the soldiers always brought back women and children. The men were either executed or used as bait, and the....undesirables, as they had begun to call them (disfigured or unattractive individuals) were also used as bait to attract the infected. It had become a competition between the men to see who could kill the most infected. Children and women both were used as slaves, from kitchens to cleaning, satisfying all the hungers his men felt.

This sort of situation, this apocalyptic world, had been his true dream; to be in control of everything and everyone, to be able to do absolutely anything he desired--yes, it was anyone's dream to be able to do anything you'd like without any of the nasty little consequences that came with organization, social structure, and a legal system. A thin and bruised young woman shuffled into the room, and his dark gaze flicked up to watch her. She kept her head bowed as she approached his desk holding a tray with a display of conquest--a delicious dinner, the likes of which he hadn't had since--well, a few days ago. He grinned maliciously at her. There was no need for shackles, because they usually broke their slaves so that their hope of escape, their fire, was crushed. She was wearing close to nothing, but he quickly quelled his thoughts. Now was not the time. Dinner, and planning. She placed the tray down and stood back a few steps, waiting. He waved his hand impatiently at her, and she scurried out of the room with a frightened gasp. Chuckling to himself, he picked up the freshly-baked roll. It had been fortuitous for them that, passing through some farmland, they had picked up livestock and carried them away. He might be a brutal and heavy handed ruler, but Cathan was not looking to crush his men under his thumb. No, he instead demanded their loyalty, and in return allowed them free reign. He kept them well fed, and through his own magnificent leadership, had secured them ample food and weaponry. Another battalion stationed elsewhere had been manned by a much less competent officer, and as a result had fallen to the Infected. He would not allow that to happen to his men. He didn't care about some of his men dying, but he didn't want them all dead. Or worse, rebelling against him.

He looked at the antique clock sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. He had five minutes before the meeting with his officers. He had sent out word to them, and they ought to be assembled already. Though he did not adhere to laws unless necessary, he expected his men to follow his orders, and his discipline was harsh. He knew a fair bit of history; he rather enjoyed the idea behind Hammurabi's laws, especially the one involving cutting out the tongue of a subordinate who talked back, no matter how trivial the words. Unfortunately, he couldn't do that because it would go against what he was working toward. Setting down his glass of whiskey and swallowing the last bite of food, he stood up and pushed his chair in. He opened the door, marching down the hallway followed closely by the two soldiers that had been stationed outside on either side of the door. He pushed open the double doors of the dining room, greeted by a sudden cessation of the animated conversation that had taken place as they waited for him. There was a great noise of chairs scraping as all stood to salute. He nodded his greeting to those assembled, motioning for them to take their seats. With their eyes focused solely on him, he realized that this must be what it felt like to be a king, he stared expressionless at them as he spoke. "Greetings, gentlemen. Shall we begin?"

impatient for the coming fight
and as we wait the morning's light
here in the silence of the night
we'll chant a soldier's song
☠

------------------------------------------------------------
take a look at him now, he's a soldier, he's colder, he's older
they have trained your boy to kill and kill someday he will

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

;; s i r i u s BLACK <<

He watched as Lily left; it was just as well, she must have felt a bit awkward. After all, fighting or not, Sirius and Andy were really only paying attention to each other. He felt exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. She kept accusing him of actively sabotaging her desire to wander about without his presence being near, when really he couldn't help it if they seemed to think alike and had chosen the same place to go. Sure, it was just the lake and a rather common place for students to go, but at this time of night and this specific spot? It was like fate, as if life was telling him to expressively make her life difficult. He would willingly oblige, of course, and though he didn't recognize it he was glad of every chance to be able to see her (fighting or no). He wondered sometimes what it would be like if they were actually friends with no bickering, no competition, no harsh words being thrown back and forth. It was almost a frightening thought, and it was completely unimaginable for him. He couldn't remember a time when they had met and hadn't fought. The first time he met her they fought, he strained to recall--he must have said something callous to a girl and she had overheard. She was like a champion of women. He almost laughed as he looked at her ferocious warrior-stance. She was a fierce opponent, but he refused to lose.

Sirius scoffed. "Well it's not my fault, is it? I was here first, you know. It's not my fault you could being away from me....in your BEDROOM. I'm not likely to be there now, am I, what with the whole spell against boys going up girls stairs." He smirked, insinuating that he knew from experience. "Thank god girls can go up the boys stairs." He laughed, but his laughter trailed off as he watched her walking toward him. His breath caught for a moment as the moonlight shining behind her illuminated her silhouette. Her clothes were still wet and clung to her skin, adding to the effect and leaving little to the imagination. Sirius' jaw dropped, and it wasn't just because of that, for his gaze was locked on hers. Though most males might have considered a pretty face to be one wearing an expression of meekness, but to him, nothing was more beautiful than Andy with a smile full of mischief and a little danger. It was the first time he had looked at her and thought simply "She is beautiful". He barely even heard her words as she leaned against him, and he felt his skin tingle wherever she touched. He felt his face get warm which caused him great alarm. He didn't really remember his early love life, but as far as he could remember he had never blushed because of a girl. He never blushed even when he was embarrassed! Closing his eyes to calm himself down, he fought hard to ignore her presence.

This was just like the time on the train, now that he thought about it. She had done something similar then as well. He didn't understand; was she trying to tempt him? He regained his composure, a broad grin replacing his confused frown. He threw his arms behind him to catch around her waist and hold her where she was. "Alone, hmm? Why Andy, you aren't going to do anything...inappropriate to me, now, are you?" He let go and turned around, deciding to play right back. He caught her wrist and pulled her close, his smile disappearing into a well-composed serious expression. "You best watch yourself, girlie." he spoke in a low, soft voice as he lifted her chin and looked down into her face. He arched a brow, his expression as serious as ever. "You never know what a bloke'll do if you tempt him like that. Shall I...show you?" As he spoke the last two words in a dangerous whisper, he drew so close that his lips were almost brushing against hers. His mind went blank for a moment, and he wondered if maybe he was really going to kiss her. Was he really just teasing her, or was this his true self? He knew he wasn't really the person that he showed to the world, but this self felt...dark. Some part of him knew that he was about to be slapped or injured (best case scenario), but right now he spared no thought. He swiftly dropped the hand that was resting against her jawline and grasped her hair, pushing her head forward to close the gap between them as he kissed her.

{{ I dunno if you've read Skip Beat! at all, but I guess this was based off that....Ren as the "King of Night" XD >> PS if you don't know what I mean and want to, read this: from page 4 to page 15. }}

[sheldor the CONQUEROR]

;; s i r i u s BLACK <<

In all the years he had known Andy, he had never disliked her. Been vaguely annoyed and irritated or frustrated, yes, but dislike? Never. He knew about her feelings toward him, and they were much colder toward him than most people. She had seemed to have an intense and blatant hatred of him aided by their clashing personalities. They clashed so often because they were so similar (with a few key differences). They were both loud and stubborn, easily provoked and competitive, and they both longed to bring the other down a peg or two. He thought he was amazing, and she found him profoundly stupid. Not that he ever knew what she was thinking; these are words he'd heard year after year. He had grown to be able to predict how she would act--it's what made it all the more fun to tease her, because he often got the reaction he desired. He was a well renowned womanizer with a dark background, and she was the untouchable with an even darker past. They were both rather mysterious to those not in their close inner circle, and Sirius wondered just what was behind that spitfire young blonde's tough exterior. He liked to think that he knew an Andy that most people didn't get the chance to see--she usually chased away people like him. He, however, had stuck around--for the personal entertainment as well as her mystique.

He didn't know when he had become the person he was presently; had he always been so careless, such a complete womanizer? He couldn't remember back far enough to be able to confirm any of his past behavior. When had it started? He highly doubted he was as "suave" as this his first year. In all actuality, before he met James and Remus and Peter, he had been quiet and reserved, the person that was invisible and who seemed to be a mute. He didn't talk to anyone the entire first half of his first year, a frightened and emotionally scared little boy of eleven, the result of a ferocious mother from a cruel and prejudiced family that regarded any deviation from their expectations as complete disloyalty. Disloyalty earned the harshest punishment in his household; loyalty was prized above integrity and honesty, above kindness and selflessness. It was too easy to blame it all on his family, but he couldn't deny they played a grand role in shaping his character. He guiltily acknowledged that there was a remote possibility that his overly flirtatious behavior had been a way of covering up his insecurity, attempting to reassure his social dominance to himself, to earn the attention and respect of his schoolmates. He tended to avoid thinking about the causes of his behavior in everyday situations because it often lead to confusion on his part.

Either way, it did not surprise him in the least to find himself pulling her close, flowing through well-practiced moves. He was not surprised when he realized he had pulled her into a passionate kiss. He was also not surprised to find the kiss to be fierce and passionate. What did surprise him, however, was that Andy did not immediately pull away, struggle, or even turn her head away. He almost broke apart in his confusion then realized he didn't need his mind to think at the moment and he simply acted upon impulse. A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat as she ran her hands across the bare skin of his chest, sliding to lock around his neck and as she grasped his hair in her fist, he allowed his arms to slide down her back, trailing along the sides of her waist to rest upon her hips, ignoring the damp cloth. As he inched his thumbs underneath the hem of her shirt and brushed against her skin, she suddenly pulled away. As she backed away and fled, his hands fell limp at his sides, his breath ragged. He licked his lips and then rubbed his thumb against them, the memory of her taste still upon his thoughts. As he watched her quickly retreating figure, he began shaking uncontrollably. When he thought she was back inside the castle, he fell down on his knees and doubled over, clasping both hands over his mouth as he burst out with the laughter that he had held in for her sake. He laughed at the situation, he laughed at her, he laughed at the absurdity of it all, and he laughed at his inability to control himself. He stifled the roaring laughter and rolled over onto his back, eventually coughing with the lack of air, clutching his sides as the muscles twinged with pain. As he gasped for air, he grinned up at the night sky and pulled his bangs off his forehead.

He still couldn't believe that happened, but he was so completely, inexplicably happy. He didn't feel that tomorrow would be awkward; on the contrary, he was looking forward to it. Of course, he wasn't going to tell everyone about this little scene; it was a secret between them, and he wasn't going to make her hate him so completely--that would be a horrible situation. No, he planned on acting like normal tomorrow. Besides, tomorrow was his big day; their bet started in just half an hour. He would win. He wasn't sure what he was going to make her do, because making her act as if she adored him seemed not so glamorous now. A part of him felt a little victorious, as if he had won some outstanding competition between them. He got up finally and collected his things, then snuck back into the castle via secret passages that would lead him directly to the Gryffindor common room. In order to get there he had to make a mad dash through a part of the hallway, and as he lurked behind a statue he wished he had remembered to bring the Map with him. The Map was bespelled by the four of them to show absolutely everyone in Hogwarts and where they were. A brilliant piece of work--he wondered what Andy was doing. It occured to him now that perhaps he ought to have chased after her and apologized, but he merely scoffed at the idea. He didn't think Andy was the "fragile" damsel type that needed-or even wanted-to be chased after. When he was upset, he wanted to be completely alone. Anyway, why was he worried about her? He had never been worried before. He was about to step out and scuttle to the next passageway when he heard male voices. He didn't recognize them at all, and he couldn't look to see who they were. He didn't want to risk being found, even by other mischief makers. He didn't really trust most of the students. He heard someone ask a question, and Andy respond in an oddly emotional voice. His heart nearly stopped as he listened to her words, risking an eye to see who it was. He saw two males that seemed from this angle like they might be very similar physiologically. He couldn't tell if they merely had similar builds and hairstyle, or if they were actual twins--but it didn't matter. He shot a fierce glower at the back of their heads, then ducked back out of sight, his heart thumping loudly. Now he was jealous? Tonight was riddled with firsts!

As soon as he got a chance and the others were gone, he scurried off to the next passageway. After complimenting the Fat Lady profusely, he finally gained admittance and clambered in. Realizing just how exhausted he felt, he trudged up the flight of stairs, found his bedroom and snuck in as quietly as possible. After removing his pants and dropping his clothes in a disorganized heap on the floor, he flopped into bed and almost immediately fell asleep with one last thought:

Obviously, Andy didn't hate him as much as she pretended to...