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Identification Card» » »




xxxxxƕòηòяιfιc »
Avali [ Abeline ] Tristam

xxxxxŝòbяιquєт»
[ Avali ]

xxxxxŝєηєŝcєηcє»
[ Nineteen ]

xxxxxŝєx»
I am the creature that was [ Made ] from the rib.

xxxxxιηcɭιηαтιòη»
I like those from which the rib was [ Taken]

xxxxxɓιятh∂αy»
[ 167 B.C — October 15 th ]

xxxxxɓιятhƥɭαcє»
That place called [ Heaven ] I have traveled from [ England. ] I suppose I'll stay here in [ Hulling. ]



xxxxxƕιιgƕ»
I am [ 5 feet and five inches. ] A bit short, aren't I?

xxxxxfάɭɭɨиǵ»
[ One Hundred and forty pounds. ] All these womanly curves, I suppose.

xxxxxтняσυgн»
[ Purest Steel ]

xxxxxɓяυѕɧєŝ»
[ Raven's Feather ]

xxxxxɱαηιfєŝтαтιòη»
There Is A Charm About The Forbidden That Makes It Unspeakably Desirable.



xxxxxcɭαŝs»
God dubbed me [ Abel. ] Though I do prefer, Abeline.

xxxxx∂òяɱαηт»
HA! Don't make me laugh! Don't speak of such foolish things to me! Yes, this does mean I am [ Loveless —&— Mateless. ] Thank you for asking.

xxxxxяòoɱ ηυɱɓєя»
I originally lived in [ England, ] but some insatiable pull brought me here to Hulling. I have picked out a place to live, the address is [ 485 Cipher Street. ] Never heard of it? Good, I thought I was the only one.



xxxxxŝєяєη∂ιƥιтy»
[ ☑Ability To Relate To Animals
☑ Charisma
☑ Can Shift The Way People Think Easily
☑ Charm
☑ Kindness
☑ Empathy
☑ Just
☑ Calming Presence
☑ Loyalty
☑ Not Easily Angered
☑ Deeper Than An O—c—e—a—n // Not Shallow
☑ Honesty
☑ Mystery?
☑ Sarcasm?
☑ Hopeless Romantic?
]

xxxxx∂αɱηαтιòη»
[☒ Shy
☒ Quiet
☒ Skepticism
☒ Cynicism
☒ Puts Up A Cold Facade
☒ Withdrawn
☒ Annoyance
☒ Fragility
☒ Emotional
☒ Holds Deep Grudges Onto Those Who Do Her Wrong
☒ Can I —HiiDE — Behind This Mask?
☒ Easily Hurt — EMOTiiONALLY —
☒ Doesn't Like People Seeing Her True E—m—o—t—i—o—n—s
☒ Slightly S—a—d—i—s—t—i—c
☒ Afraid To Get H—u—r—t
☒ Uncoordinated
☒ Mystery?
☒Sarcasm?
☒ Hopeless Romantic?
]

xxxxxɱєɱòιя»
Being born in 167 B.C. I have heard, witnessed, and spoken things that no mortal could ever imagine. Being a Mittere Dios, my only sole purpose was to guide and keep close watch on the mortals that survived on this planet until their Savior was due — Jesus Christ. No, that was not blasphemy, don't even think it. Our job was hard, nearly impossible in my eyes. Mortals have this tendency to pick fights with other mortals, seeing what rubs the others the wrong way and they keep doing it. This is how the wars started, in my view, they were somewhat entertaining. Though, in the most important war between good and evil everyone had drawn their weapons, that was when we were sent out like a troop of fighter jets, down to the main location of this raging fight — the very planet we were to watch over, Earth.

You may be asking yourself, What are Mittere Dios? Well, ask as much as you want, for you only will get the vaguest answers from me. You could say that the Mittere Dios are the beings from which Guardian Angels were thought up of, we constantly watch over mortals to keep an eye out for the things we are supposed to — unnecessary violence, natural disasters, you know, that sort of thing. The Mittere Dios are naturally prideful of what we are and what we do. have you ever heard of the saying, Life is not fair? Ha, don't ever tell me that. An unfair life is when you cannot die, you cannot live, and you cannot love. How's that for unfair? That is the life for us, those you would call "Angels," though there is nothing glamorous about our lives now that you have delved in deeper. Besides to protect, our life's purpose was also to find our one and only, the other half to our whole — our true love. Upon finding them, we would slowly die, just like a mortal. Some of us, well, they could not handle it. They pushed towards lust instead of love and went for others, immediately jumping their bones, or falling for another. Would you forgive someone of cheating on you, even if they were a so called Angel? No? I did not think so, neither did the Mittere Dios' true loves. Me? I have never fallen in love, not even once. I could not go through the pain that we have to go through when we lose those we fall for — when they are not our one and only of course.

I used to reside in Birmingham, England. The place was a green paradise, similar to what you would think Eden would look like — only, less sunny, more cloudy. With a lot of rain, the air always smelled fresh and clean. I loved it there, my own personal paradise. That is, until I got the call. At least, I thought it was some sort of call, it felt more like an instinctual pull to go to New York, to a small city called Hulling. Is this even making sense? It is cozy compared to Birmingham, and I have grown used to it these past few weeks, but I feel homesick every now and then. My secrets are deeper than any you have ever uncovered, consider yourself lucky, but no one else can know. I have never met my mate, though some part of me wishes to, some part of me doesn't. I want to live, but I want to die — is this making sense? I suppose not, but when you have lived as long as I, a lot of things don't make sense anymore.

xxxxxɓιŝƥòŝιтιòη»
Me again? I'm starting to feel self-centered. Well, you could describe me as a bit stoic, serious, cold, whatever. I personally don't care how you mortals view me. You only see what you want to see, you never want to behold me when I heal a little girl's broken bone after she falls from the jungle gym, or when I find an injured animal on the road and nurse it back to health, No, you only see the mask I put on. So be it.




xxxxxυŝєяηαɱє» [Obvious]
xxxxxɱòтιf» [Theme song]
 
     
 


♦♣♥♠ remember the name Avali Fai Zarina ♠♥♣♦
b e c a u s e- - -y o u ' l l- - -b e- - -s c r e a m i n g- - -Belle - - -l a t e r

    A stranger? O-oh! H-hello... They call me Avali Fai Zarina, but I usually go by Avali, or Fai, Bookworm on more than one occasion. It was four score and eighteen years ago that I was born on October 9th, but that's history. I guess you could call me Stoic, but I don't think I'm anything like that. In fact, I'm Actually really shy. And I mean, really shy. I am what you would also call, studious. Absorbing book after book is my special talent you know, reading, and writing are my main talents. Though everybody says I'm practically a genius. With a 4.0 GPA and getting awards for my grades, I really can't disagree with them. Not that I could, any prolonged exposure to socialization and I will overheat. That means, I blush really easily, especially if one of the male variety decides to miraculously speak to me. I am a bit ambitious, holding up higher goals in life makes me proud, though I doubt I could ever have the confidence to pursue them. I am actually very kind, rather empathetic as well. My loyalty overpasses anyone else's, going so far as to give my life for those I love. No one takes the time to get to know me though because it seems they don't want to struggle with my thick shell, I really don't know how some people think, but I know that I'd rather be friends with those who take the time to get to know me. I'm not vain, nor lusty. A person such as myself cannot flirt competently, being more than a little uncoordinated and shy, it is not possible, though I am a huge romance freak and the slightest romantic gesture will get my heart thumping. I can also see the best in people, though sometimes my skepticism and negativity can bring me down, you know. Do you think that makes me withdrawn? Yeah, I guess so. How did I end up at the academy? Well, here's the story.Me again? I'm starting to feel rather self-centered. Well, I was actually born in Birmingham, England, to a mother, a father and two older brothers. We were a happy, ideal, rather wealthy family until I turned six years of age. My middle brother was nine and the eldest, ten. That was when my mother got diagnosed with cancer, leukemia, I recall quite clearly. I don't remember my mother much, I only remember her maybe in glimpses, or certain things bring flashbacks — nothing from the cancer part of her life, though I know I was there. A few years passed, life became quite hard, my eldest brother became an addict, both of alcohol and drugs. That was when I was twelve and he was sixteen. My father soon fell into the very dregs of insanity, being diagnosed with several mental problems. It started out with a few murmurings here and there, but then he started screaming at us, saying that they got to us. He even locked me in a closet at one point for three days because he thought I had been corrupted. When I turned fourteen, and my middle brother seventeen, we decided to do something about our family. At this time, our wealth was almost depleted. We decided to move to the city of Seattle in America, where they had a few rehabs and institutions. We enrolled my father in a mental hospital and our brother into regular rehab. Two years later, our father came back to live with us again. It was said that he was in much better mental condition than before and we brought him home. It was like having our old father back — caring and warm. that was before he decided that life was not fun anymore. I'll never forget that memory, it has been burned forever into the confines of my brain. I walked into the bathroom to find blood everywhere, the tiles, the shower curtain and the sink. I looked down to find my father, butcher knife securely in hand and a long slice down his arm. I horrid noise broke through the silence, I was surprised to find it was me. My brother came up to see what was wrong and well, everything goes black after that. All I know is that father is back at the hospital and my brother and I are trying to live like a normal family, I go to day collage, while he goes to night school. It does not need to be said that my brother is my hero. Books are the only thing that help me escape from the nightmare I am living in, they take me to a different world where anything can happen. they are also the only thing that can help me break out of my shell — well, that and music. , but it's not like it's a big deal. You know, I really have a soft spot for Books/-/Music/-/Romance/-/Candy/-/Animals/-/The Supernatural/-/Writing/-/Awards/-/Drawing/-/Laughing/-/Roses Of Any Color. It's weird, I know. Oh, and don't bring Arrogant People/-/Drugs/-/Alcohol/-/Rap &&Country Music/-/Knives/-/Blood/-/People Who Pry/-/My Shyness/-/Silence/-/My Father/-/My Eldest Brother/-/Needles/-/Razors/-/Dark, Enclosed Spaces (Like a closet)/-/Bugs anywhere near me, you hear? God, I hate those things. I've been watching this one kid, Beast, for a little while now. I guess you could say His disregard for everything sane attracts me. I love the bad-boy thing but I wouldn't go quite that far. I mean, I'm just a Ruler Straight Princess so it's not really a surprise. Can you keep a secret? I didn't think so, but I'm gonna tell you anyway. Here's the thing, My father also use to abuse me, not sexually or anything, but cut me with razors, so I have all these scars on my arms that I constantly have to hide with long-sleeved shirts.. Tell anyone and I will hunt you down and make you suffer. Oh, and if you've got a score to settle with me, take it up with Princess Vampireska okay?
     


T e l l me I'm [ F R O Z E N ]
But w h a t can I D O?
CxAxNx`T tell the [ r e a s o n s]
I d i d it for
Y O U


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxคשคlเ Ŧคเ zคгเภคxxxxxx


















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T e l l me I'm [ F R O Z E N ]
But w h a t can I D O?
CxAxNx`T tell the [ r e a s o n s]
I d i d it for
Y O U


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxคשคlเ Ŧคเ zคгเภคxxxxxx




                          {} rather loud groan erupted from in a full sized bed that was piled high with blankets, at first glance, you would say about ten or eleven, each were covered with unique patterns and designs. A slight bulge was visible beneath them and you would think it was not a living thing at all. That is, until it shifted and another groan issued from under the layers. Pushing back the covers, a young woman with thick, raven black hair and a slightly tawny complexion sat up. The girl opened her eyes to reveal forest green irises, normally very pretty as well, but were currently blurred with sleep. Avali groaned again and stretched, her thin arms making a sort of arch above her. Glancing at her clock, she realized that she was late. "What? Oh no!" she shouted as she tried to push the covers off of herself, sliding down to the ground and landing hard on the carpeted floor instead. "Oh!" Avali cried out in surprise as she looked around, at that moment, her bedroom door opened and her brother's head appeared. "Avali? he started laughing uproariously when he saw his sister, still clad in Hello kitty pajamas, looking bewildered on the floor. "What happened to you?" he asked between laughs. Avali shot him a withering glare as she promptly got up, "You! It's all your fault! You put the covers on my bed!" she cried as she ran to her closet, her bare feet making dull thuds on the floor. Her brother laughed again as he watched her scurry, grabbing items of clothing and putting them on her bed. "Of course I did, you looked cold," Avali smiled at him genuinely in thanks before throwing a pillow at his face, it hit home with a resounding, yet light, thud. "Thank you, now get out! I have to change, you perv!" she shouted as her brother threw the pillow back at her and managed to hit the side of her head. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving," he said with one last chuckle. Avali sighed and grabbed her shirt, a black turtleneck with a single snowflake on the lower left corner. Sometimes, she wished she could be like her brother, caring and care-free — able to laugh when and where he wanted, so very easily. Taking off her pajama top, she slid the shirt on quickly. Looking at the dark blue, pleated skinny jeans she had gotten, she put them on too.

                          {t}he rest of Avali's routine was done quickly. Brushing her tangled hair, she combed through it until it was straight and free of any knots. Rushing to the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth quickly and thoroughly. Lastly, she placed on some eyeliner and a thin layer of mascara — the whole thing was over in ten minutes. Rushing out of her room, Avali ran down the stairs that led to the main floor of the house, slipping more than once the slick carpet — worn with use. "Why are you in such a hurry Avali?" her brother asked as she grabbed a apple from the basket of fruit that was on the kitchen counter. "The library open half an hour ago, and if I don't hurry, all the good books will be gone!" she cried as she bit into the apple. rolling it around in her hands, she tried to memorize every contour and how the apple felt in her hands for her writing piece — her novel in progress, as her brother liked to call it. Avali ran to the front of the house and grabbed her black boots from the foot of the stairs, being somewhat of a slob, she was too lazy to take her shoes upstairs after she took them off. "Only you would practically kill yourself to go to a library at seven o' clock Avali!" her brother's voice reached her and she rolled her eyes, zipping up her boots and opening the knob, she closed it softly behind her.









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FΛᄂᄂΣП ЩӨЯDƧ | ∂ση'т ℓєт тнєм ѕℓιρ ƒяσм уσυя ѕωєєт ι ρ ѕ !




↔ღ[Ŧคllєภ ฬ๏г๔ร]ღ↔[1x1↔Lit-Adv.Lit]
 
     
 



I've w o k e n now to find myself
xxxxxxxxxxxxxIn the shadows of all I have created
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm [ l o n g i n g ] to be lost in you
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxWon't you t a k e me [ away ] from me


________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________




















     



I've w o k e n now to find myself
xxxxxxxxxxxxxIn the shadows of all I have created
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm [ l o n g i n g ] to be lost in you
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxWon't you t a k e me [ away ] from me


________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________





                              A lone girl, hair as black as a raven’s feather and with ghostly eyes the shade of pure steel. Who was she? Where did she belong? Where did she come from? Not even she knew the answer, the only thing she knew was that her name was Aeval, Aeval Feeorin. And she knew she was in London, but other that that, nothing. Her memory was as blank as a canvas wiped free of paint. In was midnight in the town, the only reason Aeval knew this was because the old bell tower chimed no more than a minute ago — the deep black of the sky also told the tale. Her long black hair was pulled back from her eyes in a ponytail, though who did it for her was lost on her. Something passed her far to fast for her eyes to comprehend it anymore than a single blur — shapeless and with no sign of what it could be. Something inside of her stirred with fear and her gray eyes widened — monsters, demons, Wych-kin. she gasped and began to run, long, uneven steps that left her stumbling. All the while, she began to yell for help. “ Help! Please! Someone!” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, something inside of her ached again with the familiarity of the blur. Her head began to hurt as a distinct buzzing began to occur and a space behind her left eyes began to throb. Crying out in pain, Aeval stopped and looked around — she was alone. No lights shone through the nearby windows, no dogs barked at the full, pale white moon and no crickets offered their comforting chorus — Aeval truly was alone. Placing a hand to her temple in pain, she began to run again. Her footsteps echoed eerily through the desolated streets as her feet pounded the pavement. Thump, thump, thump! gasping for breath, she rounded the nearest corner and collapsed in a heap. If the Wych-kin were there, who knows where else they could be. Running her hand on top of her hair to smooth out any flyaway strands, she bit her lip — where could she go to get help? Aeval stood up and hunched forward, trying to make herself blend into the darkness around her — though with her black hair and black clothes, it was not that hard to do. Raising her steely eyes to her surroundings, she saw no other signs of the malevolent being. Sighing heavily, she straightened and became walking again, her gaze permanently peeled for any more of the grotesque things.

                              Where had she come from? The question lingered persistently in Aeval’s mind as she stumbled through the cracked roads of the city. There was nothing, no memories that she could delve into in order to find the answer she was looking for. No flashbacks that gave her the answers and no one to help her with information. She had no idea how she even got to be in the forsaken city if London. Aeval’s primary question had been joined by another — who had she been? Was she a kind person? A cruel one even? An apathetic or an empathetic? Who knew, because she didn’t. Groaning, she stumbled into a different road that led off into a smaller town in the city. She was not aware of anyone who was around her, no above her — all the buildings seemed to be empty. Or every one was asleep, which was a more logical explanation than the latter. The road suddenly became uneven and she tripped over a raised stone. Aeval fell to her knees and winced, she could feel the rough rock carve into the soft flesh of her knees. Ugh, dammit! she thought in frustration as she tried to get up. Stumbling, she now kept her eyes on the ground. She could not trip as much if she knew where she was walking at least. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she felt the bitter chill of Winter arriving and she shivered, her teeth slightly chattering. Though she did have a long sleeve shirt on, it was not very thick at all, and the cold wind blew right through it. Why had she come here? There was nothing for her here — then again, there was nothing for her anyway as far as she knew. She frankly felt like huddling into a ball, hugging her knees and dying , but she was not going to. She was not a quitter, she would never do such a thing while a silver lining still existed. She still had to find it though, but she was certain it was out there — waiting for her in the cold streets of the city, and she would find it. Limping through the streets sounded easier than it was. Being injured, she could feel the warm stickiness seep through her stockings and down her legs as she walked, but she could not stop anywhere, she had to keep looking. Laughing bitterly, she realized she must look insane — wandering around, legs covered in blood in the middle of the night. Not that Aeval really cared, she was there with a purpose, she needed to find her hope — she needed to find out who she was.

                              Wondering vaguely who else could be like her, wandering the empty streets at night, Aeval came across a small fountain in the middle of the city. Sighing in relief, she walked over to it and sat on the edge, taking off her shoes and stockings, she set her feet in the icy water. At first, she cringed away from it — it seemed that Winter's kiss had touched it and made it as cold as the Ice Queen's heart itself. Shivering, she tried again and lowered her feet gently into the water, it felt warmer, but not by much. Aeval decided to get it over with quickly and she began to wash her legs free of the oozing blood that spurted out of the deep gashes in her knees. The concrete had left small pebbles in the wounds that Aeval had a hard time seeing in only the washed out light of the pale, colorless moon — it sufficed though, as she finished picking out the last of the sharp bits and she ran rivulets of water over them again — not wanting them to get infected. While she washed, Aeval began to sing. Mostly tuneless — or so she thought, a distinct melody could be heard in her voice. The sound of it sounded almost ethereal as it broke through the endless silence that abandonment had produced in the city. The cold water no longer felt icy against the skin of her hands and her knees, but only felt the sharp touch of it when Winter decided to blow a breeze at her and chill her to the very bone with it’s glacial ruthlessness. Groaning, she swung her legs back around and shivered — How was she going to dry herself? She contemplated using her stockings, but they were completely covering in the sticky, red liquid and she grimaced — she was just going to have to deal with the wind. Sighing, she turned back around and washed out her stockings. The once-clear water, now stayed a discolored red — or a strange, dull pink, whichever you prefer. Aeval sighed and folded her stockings up, placing them over her arm, she began to walk again — singing as she went. That same song, the only song she knew by heart, but she didn’t even know why.






 
     
 




--------------------------------------------------------------------------
You're so m e a n, you always just bother me
L oo k over h e r e- once in a w h i l e would be o k a y !
Don't [ t e a s e ] me... won't you t e l l me your T.R.U.E f e e l i n g s?
My >> H E A R T<< is c r y i n g "s q u e a k, s q u e a k"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------┘























     


═════════════════════════════════
So I´ll be w a i t i n g for the real thing.
I'll k n o w it by the f e e l i n g.
The [ moment ] when we´re m e e t i n g
Will play out like a >>SCENE<< straight off the s.i.l.v.e.r <screen>

═════════════════════════════════










 
     
 




--------------------------------------------------------------------------
You're so m e a n, you always just bother me
L oo k over h e r e- once in a w h i l e would be o k a y !
Don't [ t e a s e ] me... won't you t e l l me your T.R.U.E f e e l i n g s?
My >> H E A R T<< is c r y i n g "s q u e a k, s q u e a k"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------









                              Meow! A lone cat's call echoed through a dark and seemingly empty room, a light groan was the half-hearted response. It had come from the bed in the middle of the room, beneath the layers of blankets placed over it to keep something warm. Meow! this time, the call was more insistent and something shifted from beneath the blankets, a bulge that moves. MEOW! the cat sounded very well near exploding and the covers suddenly pitched forward, revealing a girl with shoulder-length, raven black hair and honey colored eyes. ”Alright, alright! I’m getting up! Jeez, glutton cat,” her voice was pleasant, and light. Not very high-pitched, nor very low — it was nicely in the middle. Brushed her static-full bangs out of her eyes, she swung her legs over and placed her feet lightly on the carpet. Her eyes slid over to the clock, which flashed it’s bright numbers at her furiously, 4:30 A.M. Running a hand through her hair, Aika groaned and sighed. ”Couldn’t you have waited a few more hours Hikari?” she asked the darkness, something furry leaned on her arm and Aika smiled, picking up the small black cat. The pink ribbon on it’s neck was tightly on as so it wouldn’t slip and Aika rubbed her cheek against the cat’s fur. Hikari purred loudly and Aika put her down. ”Okay, okay. Let’s get you fed,” she whispered as she got up, still clad in Hello Kitty pajamas, she opened the door to her room and walked to the kitchen.

                              Living alone was not so bad, her parents were over in America in business, so Aika was thriving in the house by herself. Taking out Hikari’s food bowl, she opened a can of cat food and plopped it in. It fell with a loud smack causing Aika to grimace with disgust as a distinct fishy smell reached her nose. Grabbing the bowl, she set it down on the kitchen tile, — Hikari rushed up to it and began eating hurriedly. “Enjoy,” she told her cat as she headed back for her room. Taking out her school uniform, she slipped out of her pajamas and pulled on the uniform. Running a brush quickly through her hair until it was silky and knot free, she sighed and grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth slowly and monotonously. Aika hated her morning routine, considering it was dull and overused, but hey, what can you do? Running a hand through her hair again and shook out her hair and tried to style it a bit. Leaning back against the nearest wall, her eyes wandered over to her clock again; 5:30 A.M. Aika had taken a little over an hour getting ready, and she had not even taken a shower. She had taken one the night before to save time in the morning. Hikari wandered in looking very content and Aika couldn’t help but smile, her honey eyes lighting up at the sight of her only companion through her empty days and empty nights. She had always adored cats, they were independent and still managed to be amazingly sweet when they wanted to be — kind of like her.

                              Aika straightened and grabbed her school bag — a ratty thing with manufactured tears, it was black and looked like a sort of bag instead of a messenger bag. Throwing it across her shoulder, she waved to her cat and walked downstairs. She always liked going out early, instead of late when there were so many crowds. Being claustrophobic, Aika hated crowds and any enclosed space where she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her dark hair glimmered in the lights of the buildings and street lights that were not turned off yet. Aika closed the door behind her and smiled, a new day, new experiences. Something inside of her stirred suddenly, a memory of someone flashed in her mind. A young man, from her youth. What? Who- she shook her head from side to side and groaned, what was that? Shrugging, she locked the door and began to trek to school. The length was not particularly long, nor was it very short — it was in the middle. Everything about her seemed to be in the middle, her grades. Her social status, her voice, her height, (she was 5’5), her weight. Aika thought she was completely average and ordinary, she thought she was merely a plain Jane, wandering the world blessed with unoriginality. Her feet moved at an even pace, making dull thuds on the streets as she walked. The gray concrete looked black in the darkness and Aika yawned loudly, scaring even herself. Sighing, Aika turned when she was suppose to and crossed her arms, standing in front of the tall, brick building — school.

                              Aika debated what to do then, standing in front of the school with her arms crossed, she knew it was still absurdly early to be there when the school opened at 8:40. Sighing, she walked over to the nearby park and sat on the swings. Sitting there, swinging back and forth, she had a lot of time to reminisce to her earlier years. Her childhood. And the boy, she didn't remember his name, and she didn't want to. He had left a long time ago, after all his childish begging after her, she didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone, it was one of her quirks. She was also rather cold to strangers, brushing them off as if they were maple leaves falling off of a tree during Fall. Because of this, a lot of people steered clear of Aika, feeling rather intimidated by her. Aika didn't mind, she liked to be alone — it gave her time to think. Her honey gaze wandered to the sky, beholding the yellows and golds seeping into the blackness, turning it blue with it's light. Threads of pink and red sneaked in between the golden splendor and Aika grinned — she adored sunrises and sunsets. The beginning and the end of each day, and tried to watch each one everyday.






     
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ɑ ɒ ʙ ɓ ɔ ɕ ɖ ɗ ɘ ə ɚ ɛ ɜ ɝ ɞ ɟ ɠ ɡ ɢ ʛ ɥ ɦ ɧ ɨ ɩ ɪ ʝ ɫ ɬ ɭ ɮ ɯ ɰ ɱ ɲ ɳ ɴ ɴ ʀ ʁ ʂ ʈ ʉ ʊ ʋ ʌ ʍ ɣ ɤ ʎ ʐ ʑ

☺ ☻ ☼ ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦ ♪ ♫ ░ ▒ ▓ ▀ ▄ ■ □ ▪ ◦ ₴ ۱ ۲ ۳ ۴ ۵ ۶ ۷ ۸ ۹ ۞ ۝

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

§__° _°_ °__§

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

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

❶ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼ ❽ ❾ ❿


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

? Ɂ ɂ ʡ ʢ ʔ ʕ ʖ ˀ ˁ
Ȣ ȣ ȸ ȹ ʣ ʤ ʥ ʦ ʧ ʨ ʩ ɶ ы ʪ ʫ Ӹ ӹ
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▀ ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ▉ ▊ ▋ ▌ ▍ ▎ ▏ ▐
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!i
 
     
 


═════════════════════════════════
So I´ll be w a i t i n g for the real thing.
I'll k n o w it by the f e e l i n g.
The [ moment ] when we´re m e e t i n g
Will play out like a >>SCENE<< straight off the s.i.l.v.e.r <screen>

═════════════════════════════════







                                        Tick, tock, tick, tock. A familiar, annoying noise reached Adria’s ears and her eyes blearily opened. Immediately feeling disoriented in the deep darkness, her eyes slid over to her bedside table to try and get a glimpse at her clock. Being an old-fashioned clock — not digital, the noise that had woken her up had been issued from the stupid thing. As she gazed at it, her eyes immediately began sliding down to close — the fluttering strangely went to the tempo of the ticking. The hands pointed at the fancy four and the fancy one — 4:05 in the morning was not a healthy time to be up. Making a half-groan of submission, she turned over and placed an arm over her steel gray eyes, making the inky blackness even blacker. Adria did not need this, she really didn’t. She had merely moved there a few days ago, a Saturday, and that morning was a Monday — she needed to go to school. Groaning loudly this time, she rolled over to face the window. The steady thrums of rain made a sort of song in the darkness, Adria loved the rain, she just hated getting wet. The whole concept of walking in the rain and playing in the snow was lost on her — she really hated anything to do with getting wet. Running a slender hand through her duo-tone colored hair, she swung her legs over and sat up — wanting immediately to go back to bed, but she knew that even if she did, she would not be able to go back to sleep. Getting up slowly, she rubbed her eyes and headed for her closet, picking out an outfit at random in the inky darkness. Heading for the bathroom, she looked at what she had gotten. A black tee-shirt with manufactured frays at the sleeves and the bottom of the shirt, pale pink skulls made a straight file line across the middle and a gray broken heart was smack dab in the middle of the line — interrupting the orderly skulls. For the bottom, she had picked a hot pink and black plaid skirt that reached her knees. Chains crisscrossed their way to the top where they hung like lifeless snakes from the belt loops. She had also grabbed a hot pink studded belt to match. Black tights were the accompanying item to make the set complete, made of thick cotton so she wouldn't get cold. She slipped out of her pale pink Hello Kitty pajamas and pulled on her clothes, taking the better part of twenty minutes getting them on. More than once, stumbling and tripping on her tights while she got them on and had the brightest idea of getting something that was across the room, stumbling as she half-walked, half-hopped to where her skirt was. Adria finally put on all of her items of clothing and grabbed her hairbrush, though one look in the mirror told her it was going to take more than the usual five minutes it took to brush through her hot pink and black, straight hair. Her recent tussle with her clothes had left it more than a little tangled and it now resembled a bird's nest on top of her head. Grabbing her brush, she began to work on the tangles, one by one. Ten minutes later, she had tangle-free, silky hair that hung like a curtain down to the middle of her back.

                                        It was not needed to say that Adria was not going to be in the best of moods that morning, after brushing her teeth, she had dropped the toothpaste and it had squirted out and covered the whole wall in sticky, blue stuff with cleaning crystals that was probably going to take her whole afternoon to clean. Pushing her bangs out of her eyes, she grabbed an apple from the basket of fruit that was on the table, her breakfast. Biting into it, she leaned against the counter and looked up at the clock, 5:30. She had taken more than an hour to get ready, her usual half a hour overtaken by thirty minutes more. She looked out the kitchen window to find that the rain was still falling like it was nobody's business. Adria sighed and grabbed her black raincoat and put it on, careful not to catch any of her hair in the zipper, she zipped it up. Heading for the front of the house, she stopped in front of the house, there in the corner, were her black, studded, ankle-length, waterproof boots. Adria had a feeling they were going to be her new best friends in the rainy place of Forks, Washington. Placing her feet in them and zipping them up, she sighed and stood in front of the door. The worst part of the whole situation was that she had to walk to school, in rain. Yeah, she was not a happy Adria. Groaning, she picked up her hood. Apple in hand, she opened the door and stepped out into the forsaken downpour, getting soaked to the bone after just a few seconds. She felt like screaming with the grand injustice of it all. Turning around, she locked the door securely behind her. Her mother had already gone to work at three in the morning, and was probably going to be back at about nine at night. Sighing, she began her long trek to school. It was just her luck to, her mother had picked the one place that was farthest away from the high school. Her steps were unsteady in the pounding rain and she slipped more than once, never falling though, which she was glad for. Thump, thump, thump. she sound of her heels against the cracked, gray concrete sounded like a heartbeat to Adria and she smiled slightly, the familiar sound broke through the empty, overwhelming, sound of the rain and warmed her. She wasn't sure why, but it reminded her of her previous home — California. She missed the warm sun beating down on her pale skin, she missed the roar of the ocean by her window, she missed the fresh fruit she had eaten. A lump formed in her throat and she forced it down with a harsh swallow — she was in Forks now, it was her home now.

                                        By the time Adria reached the school, she felt like a drowned cat — and she was sure she looked like one too. Pushing open the double doors of the school, she followed two girls inside, they all looked like it was the best day in the universe and it was not pouring outside. They removed their coats and hung them up, Adria followed suit, a bewildered expression on her pale face. She followed them until she had to go to her locker, finding it, she took out her locker number from her pocket and with nimble fingers, spun the lock one way to the other. Ten. Twenty-three. Seventeen. The lock clicked and the locker was available to open. She put in her school supplies from her black bag and took her bag with her to her first class — Trigonometry. Looking around the various rooms, she finally found the correct one and opened the door.





     
» A D I L A | E D I L I N E | W Y N N «
A news sense is really a sense of what is important, what is vital, what has color and life - what people are interested in. That's journalism.

iD3NTiFiCATi0N CARD
    × Adi, Adila, Edi, Wynnie
    x Force fields are my specialty!
    × Thirty two divided by two? Sixteen silly!
    × Just a lonely Barbie Doll.
    × Lois Lane, do you think it fits?
    × Superman!

i D0N'T ACT MY AG3
Kind✦
On The Quiet Side✦
Shy✦
Sweet✦
Stoic✦
Hopeless Romantic✦
Empathetic✦
Sometimes Apathetic✦
Moody✦
Funny✦
Slightly Skeptical✦
Reliable✦
Responsible✦
Defensive✦
Reluctant✦
Sensitive✦
Resistant✦

MY LiF3 ST0RY THU5 FAR
So much me! I'm starting to feel rather self-centered. Hm, well, I was born on October 17th in Birmingham, England. Yes, this does mean I have a slight British accent and some people like to tease me about it, mocking me and doing things like that. My father was Robert Wynn, a charming Englishman who worked on the moor, and my mother was Susan McHammond, a serious business woman who went to England on business. They say it was love at first sight, and after a burning night of passion, my mother resulted in pregnancy. They decided to stay in England for most of my childhood, then, when I was ten, my mother thought it an excellent idea to move back to America. She wanted to live in her good US of A again. I tried to put up a fight, even back then I was a fighter, but a ten year old child against two adults is no match at all. I have been here for the rest of my six years, and I grew up to be not quite what my parents expected.

Yes, I am indeed a journalist. Prying into people's private affairs is my favorite thing in the world. And I very serious about it as well. I take pride into what I publish, and I want it to be the best. I am not your typical writer though, getting piercings and dyeing my hair are my second favorite things to writing. My current hair color is black, but that's bound to change soon. I adore my job, it is my life to me. I have only two friends here, and I suppose that comes from my reluctant nature. Superman? He's a whole 'nother story love. But really, I can't deal with a relationship, not right now. You see, I have the power to project force fields, though the reason why has been lost on me.

Even though I have an affinity for strange clothing, and piercings, and dye jobs I am really a good girl. Don't be put off by my appearance and prying. A lot of things get on my nerves, but when people start picking on me, I really can't stand it. I am really sensitive and tend to cry for the most harmless comment. People have to be really careful of what they say around me, oh, and I also have a weakness for candy. Sour kinds, sugary kind, chocolaty kind, really, anything is good and will be gladly accepted.

THiS G3TS M3 THR0UGH TH3 DAY
Never Too Late ~ Three Days Grace


MY PUPP3T33R
Princess Vampireska
 
     
 


════════════════════════════════════
So I´ll be w a i t i n g for the real thing.
I'll k n o w it by the f e e l i n g.
The [ moment ] when we´re m e e t i n g
Will play out like a >>SCENE<< straight off the s.i.l.v.e.r <screen>

════════════════════════════════════















     

ANTI-TWILIGHT
I can smell the hate mail already

Twinnie ❤
x___iPocky
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