⊹⊱⋛α яσyαl τэაτ⋚⊰⊹

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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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>
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Beep! Beep! Beep! A blaring noise broke through the thick silence of the dark room, a groan issued out from beneath several layer of blankets. A slender hand shot out from beneath the covers and knocked over the bothersome clock from the bedside table and it landed on the carpet with a loud thud and to Adila's dismay, completely unharmed as it kept shouting at her to wake up. Another loud groan fought with the chaos of the alarm, the covers suddenly pitched up and forward, revealing a girl with jet-black hair and dark green eyes, her current expression was not a pleasant one and she felt like she was about to wring someone's neck. Adila was obviously not a morning person, yawning and scowling at her obnoxious clock, she picked it up and slammed the off button with her palm. The time was horrendously early — 4:00 on the dot. Swinging her legs over, she put the thing back on the bedside table and she stood up. Stretching, she walked over to her closet and picked out a random outfit from the long line of clothes. A soft knock sounded on her bedroom door and she mother's head poked in, Adila always thought her mother was beautiful, with honey colored hair that gently waved to the middle of her back and sparkling blue eyes — it was no wonder her father fell in love with her. "Honey, are you up? Can't have you being late for school," her mother said to her as Adila yawned again, nodding lazily. "I know mum, I'll be down in half an hour," her voice was half-muffled by the yawn that forced her mouth open again. Her mother nodded and closed the door behind her. Heading for her bathroom, Adila looked at the outfit she had picked out so at random.

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. Adila 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 raven 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. Adila knew that she was going to dye it soon, she needed to. Putting a hoop through her nose piercing and a barbells in her ears, she half-smiled at her reflection — that was as good as it was going to get.

It was not needed to say that Adila 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 and a half to get ready, her usual half a hour overtaken by sixty minutes more. Yawning widely, she took another bite just as her father came in, dressed in an elegant Armani suit. Adila could not believe this was the same man who her mother had said worked on the moor, carting people around in boats — a sailor. He was a company owner now, the boss of tons of people in a successful company. "Good morning Adila, good morning love," he said in greeting to both Adila and her mother, Adila gave him a nod as she took another crunchy bite and her mother gave him a deep kiss. Adila wrinkled her nose and walked to the front door. "I'm going mother, father! I'll be back after school!" she shouted as she put on her pink and gray flats. She needed to walk to school, and it was almost never pleasant. It took her almost three hours to get to school, it was definitely not fun. "Alright darling!" her mother cried as Adila opened the door and locked it behind her, she had her black bag over her shoulder and a look-out-world expression on her face.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

» A Y L E T T E | T E I G R A | C H E M A I N E «
As a rule, I am very careful to be shallow and conventional where depth and originality are wasted.

→ iD3NTiFiCATi0N CARD

× Ayli, Lette, Tiger, Chemi.
× What are you stupid or something? I'm obviously sixteen!
× I do not come equipped with a joystick, I can assure you.
× Miss Richie is my status!
× Mr Egotistical Pretty Boy over there catches my eye... Or is it the Romantic? Ugh, I am so confused!

i D0N'T ACT MY AG3 ←
Shallow＊
Spoiled＊
Self-Centered＊
Can Be Kind Sometimes＊
Passionate＊
Cynical＊
Skeptical＊
Stoic＊
Calm＊
Slightly Shy＊
Romantic＊
Intelligent＊
Sadistic＊
Rude＊
Apathetic＊
Cold＊
Distant＊
Easily Feels Guilt＊
Indecisive＊
Appreciative＊

→ MY LiF3 ST0RY THU5 FAR
How much do you want to know about me? Are you a stalker or something? Ew, how creepy. You need it? Fine, fine. I was born in Rome, Italy, on October 6th to two loving parents with lots of a dough. Their names are Marie Antonette Stone and Gulianno De Chemaine. Well, it was originally my mother's you see. She was on a business trip to Rome, trying to overtake the latest company, my father was a poor man who earned his money by carting people around in the canoes, back and forth across the channels in the city. My mother says it was a reluctant love at first, she had to travel by one to get to the building and my father was the driver. My father says it was love at first sight for him, seeing my mother was like beholding an angel. Heh, whatever. He asked my mother out, and she reluctantly accepted. That was when she fell in love and in a burning ardor, I was conceived. Nine months later, I was born. They named me after their favorite animals. Aylette means Dove, my mother's. Teigra means Tiger, my father's.

My childhood was one of happiness and being spoiled. Getting everything I wanted, here and there, then and now, well, I suppose it made me kind of spoiled. I expect to get whatever I wish for. It also made me rude, though I am sorry if I offend you in anyway. Though my parents are filthy rich, they have always found time for me, and I realize how privileged I am. Even though I can tell you so many things that are wrong with me, I could never be rude or angry at my parents, they are the best that I could have ever asked for. I am not always a b***h you know, I can be kind and caring. Hey! I see you laughing! Please don't, I really mean it! I can be very nice when I want to be, or see a reason to be. For example, I can't stand when things are injured. Something inside compels me to nurse them back to health. You're still laughing?! Shut up! Yes, I do have a slight Italian accent, and most people think it's sexy. Though some people think it's fun to imitate me, don't. Please.

As for my likes, I love anything romantic. I suppose this is why the Romantic is making my heart thump. Then again, I can't get enough of the Pretty Boy. What is wrong with me? What else? Oh, I can't stand silence. I always have to have some kind of music playing. Oh expect rap and country music, I hate that music, it literally makes me gag. Um, I love any kind of candy and I can't stand needles and knives. What else... Nope, that's it! Now get out of here!

THiS G3TS M3 THR0UGH TH3 DAY ←
Hero/Heroine ~ Boys Like Girls

→ MY PUPP3T33R ←
Princess Vampireska

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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H o w can she b e g i n to ::try:: ?
>>MISUNDERSTOOD<< so m a n y times so many t i m e s
R.i.s.e above, rise [ again ]
T h o u g h t you <went> away but I m i s u n d e r s t oo d
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[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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I'm j u s t a girl, l i v i n g in >>CAPTIVITY<<
Your r.u.l.e of t h u m b
Make me w o rr y some
I'm j u s t a g i r l, what's my [ destiny? ]
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[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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I'm j u s t a girl, l i v i n g in >>CAPTIVITY<<
Your r.u.l.e of t h u m b
Make me w o rr y some
I'm j u s t a g i r l, what's my [ destiny? ]
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I never thought that you could break me apart, I keep a sinister smile and a hold of my heart... Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls broke through the silence in what seemed to be, and empty bedroom. A lump on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room slightly shifted. You want to get inside, then you can get in line, but not this time... A slender arm shot out from the bed and tried to get the clock to stop the annoying music. As much as Aylette loved that damn song, she wished it would just shut up. Her searching hand found nothing but air, then she remembered with a loud groan that she had moved the damn thing to the top of her dresser — her own intelligent method of getting herself up in the morning. I feel like a hero and you are my heroine! Aylette placed her arm over her eyes and shouted, "Shut up! Stupid alarm clock!" her voice could barely be heard over the blaring music and she felt like throwing one of her many pillows at it. Finally, she opened her eyes and finally looked at it. The numbers on it stared at her accusingly — 8:15 A.M She was late. "WHAT? Oh no! Oh no!" she cried as she shot up from her bed, flinging the covers off to the floor. She had to move fast, otherwise, she would be late to school. Running to her closet, she picked out random clothes. Shifting gears, she ran to her bathroom to get ready. Slamming the door loudly behind her, she looked at herself in the mirror. She had taken a shower the night before in order to save time in the morning — and boy did she need it. Opening the door and running to her alarm clock, slamming her hand down on the clock to shut it up before she forgot, she ran back and slammed the door again.

Looking at the clothes in her hand, Aylette decided that she had a killer sense of fashion, even when she wasn't paying attention to what she grabbed. A black South Pole tee-shirt and the matching hoodie was in her hands, a pair of dark blue, boot cut South Pole jeans accompanied the outfit. Dressing quickly, she managed to apply her makeup at the same time. After that, she grabbed her toothbrush and her hairbrush and began on multitasking those two things. More than once, she had put her toothbrush in her hair and her hairbrush in her mouth — it was not necessary to say that it was disgusting. After this whole ordeal, she rushed out of the bathroom to put on her black Prada heels and grab her Dolce & Gabbana dark purple purse. Taking one last look in the full length mirror that covered one whole wall of her bedroom, she decided that for a rushed morning, she looked fine. Running a hand through her black hair and appraising her green eyes for less than fifteen seconds, she ran out the door of her bedroom. Screeching to a stop when her father appeared suddenly in front of her. "Tiger? Bambina? You are not at school?" Tiger was her father's nickname for her, bambina meant little girl. Shaking her head, she kissed her father on the cheek before explaining. "No papà, I am late!" she cried as she dodged him and ran to the kitchen, where her mother handed her a glass of milk. "Chemi, darling, you are late!" Aylette nodded and gulped the glass of milk down in a couple of swallows. "Si, mamma, I know! I'm taking the limo, okay?" her mother nodded and Aylette kissed her on the cheek as well. "Ciao famiglia!" she shouted before running out the mansion door.

Getting into the limo, she looked back at the elegant mansion and then at the clock on the dashboard. It was 8:21, she was going to make it. Lucky for Aylette, the school was only five minutes away from her house and she sighed in relief, sinking into the comfortable seats. Five minutes later, she ran out of the limo and hurried into the school, as soon as she got inside, she managed to regain her composure. Straightening, she looked at the kids in the hall, each of them cringing into their lockers — as if an anti-popularity bubble surrounded her. Grinning brightly, she walked to her locker and with nimble fingers, opened it. Fifteen. Twenty-three. Nine. Yawning, she reached in and got the books she needed for her next two classes. Aylette's eyes wandered over to the Lelouch leaning against his locker with his eyes closed, blushing, she shifted her gaze back to her locker and closed it gently. Lelouch was the heartthrob at the school, he never looked at anyone but himself — this was what Aylette was telling herself, why get her hopes up for a guy she could never have? As spoiled as she was, she was not promiscuous, guys were the one thing she could wait to have. Being sluttish was something that Aylette did not do. Yawning again, she covered her moth with one hand. She wondered vaguely where her boyfriend was, and she shrugged, he had his own life — she was not his babysitter. Looking at her watch, she saw that she had three minutes to kill before class. Walking over to the water fountain, she bent down and took a drink, her long black hair falling forward to obscure her face.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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So what if you can s e e the d a r k e s t side of me?
No one will ever c h a n g e this >>ANIMAL<< I have [ become ]
Help me !BELIEVE! it's not the r e a l me
S>o>m>e>b>o>d>y h e l p me t.a.m.e this {{ ANIMAL }} !
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[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

Princess Vampireska

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H o w can she b e g i n to ::try:: ?
>>MISUNDERSTOOD<< so m a n y times so many t i m e s
R.i.s.e above, rise [ again ]
T h o u g h t you <went> away but I m i s u n d e r s t oo d
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I need to know, when I will fall into decay... A cacophony of sound blared through the crisp, silent air and a harmonious voice accompanied it like honey. A loud yawn melted into the song, except it had not come from Lacuna Coil's lead singer, but a petite, pale girl with steely gray eyes currently laying in the middle of a queen sized bed, arms spread out around her, she raised one to place over her eyes. It was summer — sixteen year old Alessa was glad, she liked school, but it was nice to take a two, two and a half month break sometimes. Sighing, she sat up and yawned again, looking at her clock — 8:15 A.M. Not so early, but not so late — perfect. Swinging her pale legs around to the edge of the bed, she ran a hand through her dyed, blue-black locks. She felt exhausted, but with good reason. Her insomnia had kept her up until four in the morning, she was researching all-ages nightclubs for her best friend —Christene, or as Alessa liked to call her, Auz — and her to go to. She found one too, it was new and in quite the demand — it was called, The Beast. It was very strange, and definitely dark — Alessa's favorite type of club. She stretched and lightly set her feet down on the padded carpet with a light thud, pushing her dark curls back, she headed for her closet. She scanned her clothes for a few minutes, running her hands over each article of clothing before picking out what she wanted with a decisive nod to herself. Dolefully desired, destiny of a lie... Alessa absently hummed along with the song as she walked over to her bathroom, it was still blaring but she didn't care. And neither would her parents, they let her do whatever she wanted. Once she closed the door to her bathroom, she looked at what she had gotten from the mess of clothes in her closet.

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. Alessa 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 raven black, curly 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 curled into graceful ringlets that met her shoulders. Her hair was actually a little bit longer, passed her shoulders easily, but she didn't really feel like straightening it that day she she shrugged and grabbed her toothbrush, monotonously cleaning her straight teeth. The whole routine had taken forty five minutes.

Alessa walked out of her bathroom and listened to the song that was currently blaring out of her hot pink iPod. Believe in me,I know you've waited for so long. Believe in me, sometimes the weak become the strong... Believe by Staind now spewed out of the speaker and Alessa hummed along as she walked over and yanked her iPod out of the iHome. Taking her hot pink Razr out, she began to text Auz with nimble fingers.

Yo, my home skizzles. Let's meet at the mall, I have to tell you about this kickass nightclub I found last night on the web! It's so ******** awesome!
Ciao amiga! ❤ Sesi

Grinning to herself, Alessa pressed the "Send button and watched as the little envelop took her text to her best friend. Now, all she needed to do was wait. And walk to the mall of course. Walking down the stairs, she saw her parents having breakfast, completely entranced in each other's eyes. Rolling her eyes, Alessa walked over and plucked an apple from the basket of fruit in the kitchen. "Morning dear!" her mother called as Alessa smiled at her, taking a crunchy bite of apple. Her father said nothing, he was too absorbed at staring at her mother., Rolling her eyes again, she walked to the front door. "I'm going to the mall, meeting up with Auz," even if Alessa didn't say Christene's full name, they knew who she was taking about — Alessa and Christene had been friends forever. "Alright dear!" her father shouted as Alessa put on her checkered hot pink and black vans. Walking out of the front door, she started walking the eight blocks to the mall. It wasn't that far, but it wasn't that close either. She arrived at the mall in twenty minutes exactly, she took a seat on one of the benches in the very front of the mall and waited for her best friend to arrive.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

» A L T A I R | V E R E D | R A M O S «
Music Is What Feelings Sound Like.

→ iD3NTiFiCATi0N CARD

× Alt, Air, Ver, Ra.
× Diez y siete amor. <3
× I come fully equipped with a joystick for all your gaming needs, some assembly may be required.
× Pretty Little Juliets... and sometimes those Romeos as well. >>Bi-curious.
× Perdon? I didn't quite catch that amor.
× I still believe Pluto is a planet, so wouldn't it make sense for me to be in Pluto Rising?
× I rock those main power chords onstage mi amor. >>Lead Guitarist.

i D0N'T ACT MY AG3 ←
Likes To Speak Spanish And Confuse People☾
Very Romantic☾
Defensive☾
Flirtatious☾
Chivalrous☾
Passionate☾
Sweet☾
Lover Not A Fighter☾
Naive☾
Brutally Honest☾
Loyal☾
Deep☾
Percieving With It Comes To Other People's Feelings☾
Caring☾
Outgoing☾
Doesn't Believe in Love☾
Sarcastic☾
Likes To Make People Laugh☾
Hates Irrational Fighting☾
Hates Everything Irrational☾
Sadistic☾
Complex☾
Great Storyteller☾
Gives Great Advice☾

→ MY LiF3 ST0RY THU5 FAR
Ay, pues sabes que amor? Tu preguntas muchas cosas! Ha, did that make you stop and stare? Yeah, I don't look it, but I am from Spain. Yep, my mother met my father in Barcelona, Spain. He was a public dancer who danced with castanets in hand, while my mother was an eccentric business woman who only had time for business in her life, nothing else. That was when she saw him, the great Antonio Del La Rosa Ramos, and when he beheld eyes on her, well, he says it was like she was un angѐl, an angel sent down from the very highs of heaven come to enlighten him — For he was quite the devil in those days, a genuine lady killer — or so he says. After una nochѐ llena de passiòn, my mother had me nine months later. It sounds like something out of una novela de romancѐ, no? Something out of a romance novel, well, enjoy the little illusion while it lasts.

Un diá, one day, when I was fourteen, I awakened to find my mamá gone, se esfumo como una hoja en un diá en Otoño. She disappeared like a leaf in Autumn, blown away to God knows where. My father always told me that she needed to get away. But... Get away from what? From me? From him? I had no idea, no tenia idea alguna. My papá decided to move to los estados unidos, the United States, in order to begin a new life, una nueva vida. I have been living here for the past three years in great contentment, joining up con la banda Rising Pluto was the best thing I have ever done. Yo toco la guitarra, I am the lead guitarist and proud amor. Algunos dias, some days, I stop and think about mi madre, donde se fue. I think about my mother, and where she went, perhaps she continued being the eccentric woman from before she met mi papá, because business was her life after all.

Yo? Yo soy muy romántico, I am very romantic! Must be the caliente Spanish blood running through my veins. I take care of my friends and am very loyal, being sweet and kind are two of my best talents. Pero odiò cuando pelea la gente, I hate it when people fight! I think it is a waste of time, solving our differences with nuestra manos instead of nuestras palabras. Fighting with our hands is useless, and I would rather talk things out than get into a fist fight. Te vas? Ay que pena! Me visitas mas alrato, no? Gracias por el interes! <3

THiS G3TS M3 THR0UGH TH3 DAY ←
Buried A Lie~ Senses Fail
Down With The Sickness ~ Disturbed

→ MY PUPP3T33R ←
Princess Vampireska

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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G e t up, c o m e on get [ down ] with the >>SICKNESS<<
O p e n up your !HATE!, and let it ~ f l o w ~ i n t o me
Get u p, come o n get d.o.w.n with the .:s i c k n e ss:.
You m o t h e r get up c o m e on get < down > with the [ > SICKNESS < ]
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[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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G e t up, c o m e on get [ down] with the >>SICKNESS<<
O p e n up your !HATE!, and let it ~ f l o w ~ i n t o me
Get u p, come o n get d.o.w.n with the .:s i c k n e ss:.
You m o t h e r get up c o m e on get < down > with the [ > SICKNESS < ]
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Altair laid on his bed underneath the thick covers, twisting a piece of black hair between two pale fingers, his wide, green-gray eyes bored and a bit angry. No one had particularly noticed him throughout the whole ordeal that they had gone through, but perhaps it was for the best. Taking a look at the clock he saw it was barely touching the edges of three in the morning — time to get up. Reaching over, he shut off the alarm before it went off — no use in waking up anyone else. Altair woke up a little earlier than most people did — oh, who was he kidding? He was up a lot earlier than most people, an anomaly. "No me quiero lavantar! Quiero dormir! I want to sleep Goddammit!" he shouted into the darkness, groaning, he slammed his head into his fluffy pillow a few times in frustration. Groaning even louder, he swung his legs around to the edge of his bed, taking care not to knock down the bedside table that was placed so perilously next to the bed. Walking over to the bathroom, he looked at his reflection in the mirror — his pale chest glowing in the dim light of the bathroom. Altair had a habit of sleeping with nothing but a pair of black boxers and he frankly did not care who saw him. Grabbing a few items of clothing before entering the bathroom, he changed quickly. Pulling on a pair of gray skinny jeans pleated so perfectly that people could see the seams sticking up, and a black tee-shirt that said "If we really learned from our mistakes, I'd be a ******** genius by now" in bold red letters across the front. He also needed to style his hair, blow-drying, straightening and a whole lot of hair spray was needed to complete this mundane task. By the time he was done, it was quarter to six — he had taken over an hour to get ready. Running a hand through his hair to fluff it out a bit, he got out of the bathroom and walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge impassively. The whole stranded thing had really grated on his nerves, were it not for a bottle of old relaxers in his bag, he would not have made it. Altair's only worry was that they may have been expired and God only knew what would happen to him if that was true. Taking the medium-sized, orange bottle out of his bag, he looked it over for the sticker that told people when it was expired — there was none. "Ah, damn," he whispered bitterly.

Altair had a few hours until the rest of the band awoke, walking out of the bus, he headed for any place. He was not in the mood to be cooped up inside of the stuffy bus for hours more. His steps were slow and measured, taking no hurry for he had no destination. crunch, crunch, crunch. The dry New Mexico grass crunched beneath his feet as he strolled, flipping his hair out of his eyes every once in a while so he could see. He came to a bench and he sat down, it was facing the horizon so he could see the sunrise perfectly. It was like a blanket made of many colored threads. Gold threaded with vibrant red, pale pink paired with the darkest lavender, blinding yellows chosen to be with dull grays and the underlying tone of a pale, clear blue. The touch of sunrise continued until it seemed that the sky was broken in half — the side of many colors and the side that remained a stubborn inky black or a pitch dark blue and one by one, the stars twinkled out to be hidden by the sun's light. Altair loved both sunrises and sunsets, they signified the end of a cruel day and the start of a fresh beginning and he tried to one each one every day. "Que hermoso es el dia, que rico es estar vivo... How beautiful is the day and how good it is to be alive," he whispered to himself as he gazed at the continuing sunrise. The sky was turning into a pure blue and he knew that he had been sitting there for a while — at least one or two hours. Running a hand through his hair, he laid and stretched out on the bench. If no one had missed him or talked to him while he was there, what would a few more hours do? Yawning, he closed his eyes as he felt the pounding heat of the bright sun erupt from the horizon. He didn't really like the sun that much, but hey, when life gives you lemons... Placing a hand over his eyes to relieve himself of the brightness that seemed to break through his eyelids, he yawned again and felt the warm heat sooth him into the arms of soft sleep.


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Altair awoke with such a start that he managed to roll off of the bench and land on the concrete with a loud thud. "Oh s**t, oh s**t. Mierda! I fell asleep! Do I have a sunburn?" Altair muttered, panicking until he noticed with relief that when he touched his face, nothing happened — no pain. Sighing in relief, he picked himself up and brushed himself off. He wondered vaguely he had been out there, taking up some vitamin D — even if he had not meant to. Yawning loudly, he stretched his limbs and began to walk back to the bus — though there was nothing really interesting waiting for him back there, nothing really important. All he knew was that they had a gig later — though the time was lost on Altair. His steps were the same pace as they had been before because, just as before, he was in no hurry. Sighing, he looked out to the houses that littered the land — cute and homey, Altair would have liked to live in one of those houses. Spain was not a bad alternative either — he would have settled for either. He arrived at the bus to receive some shocking news — Dae was gone, she had quit. He grimaced and wondered how her best friend must have felt, poor Chaz. Running a hand through his locks, he sighed and sat down in one of the chairs that was inside of the bus.

Altair gazed out of the bus's dirty front window, he had been so quiet during the whole dramatic broken-down-bus thing that he wondered if anyone had even thought of him. So, they were in Albuquerque now and turned out that Dae left the band. A sinking feeling had been securely wedged in the pit of his stomach since the news, but who could do anything? It was Dae who chose to leave and no one could make her come back. Running a hand through his straight black hair that was styled so perfectly that he was known to make the girls swoon — even a few boys here and there. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and closed his gray-green eyes impassively. Without a drummer, Pluto Rising was more than a little ******** and they might even have to turn the stage over to Zombies Ate My Cat. Not that Altair had anything against any of them, it was just that he would prefer the spotlight to stay on his own band — as selfish as it may seem. "Madre de Dios! Porque?" he exclaimed in Spanish, a plead to God — a question. Sighing, he placed his hand over his face and groaned. It was a little more than an understatement when it is said that he was in a bad mood. That was what he had been doing the whole time the bus had broken down — silently cursing their damned bad luck and silently fuming, he had always been more than a little over-emotional. Standing up, he began to pace the inside of bus, turning from one edge to another. He could feel the effects of not sleeping weighing on him, he had always suffered from insomnia and could never sleep more than one or two hours at a time. As he turned his eyes back to the window, he saw a girl approach Skyla and he instantly became curious. Smiling slightly, he stood and walked out of the bus. Walking over to the pair of girls, he extended his hand to the new girl and grabbed her own outstretched hand. "Hola amor, name's Altair, lead guitarist of Pluto Rising. What brings you here?" he asked genteelly.


>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>v

[translations]
No Me Quiero Levantar: I don't want to get up
Madre De Dios :Mother of God
Porque: Why?
Hola Amor: Hello love
Mierda: s**t
[/translations]

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

αƒιηα ƒαу вяσηωєη
The α ℓ т я υ ι ѕ т ι ¢ virtue of к ι η ∂ η є ѕ ѕ

t h e . [ B A S i C S ]
Call Me ; Afina, Afi, Nana, Fay. But never, ever, call me Fifi. I'm not a damn dog.
Label Me ; I do not come equipped with a joystick, I can assure you.
See Me ; I look for those with gaming pleasure >> Heterosexual.
Date Me ; S e v e n + t e n = S e v e n t e e n.

t h e . [ M i R R O R ]
What you should know about м є is . . .

I am Kindness.

I know what's going through that empty little mind of yours, "Oh, she must be so prissy, never doing anything bad and never getting her hands dirty!" Ha, your silly little presumptions make me laugh. Yeah, I am kind, I am nice, I am sweet. But beneath that layer of me lies a whole other layer of depth you probably never knew existed. Why? Because you've been too caught up in making new reasons to judge me, to hate me, to isolate me. I'm not perfect, I never was and I never ached to be. Why? Because everyone has a different definition of perfect. Blond hair, blue eyes, red hair, green eyes. Straight A's, aced tests, studying. Polos, light colors, pastels. No piercings, no tattoos, no hair dye, hair up, curly hair, straight hair. How about, I don't care? No really, I don't. I am who I am, I never try to be anything else than what I can possible be. This amounts to dyed black hair, a lip piercing, my ears being skewered six times each, a navel piercing, a spiderweb tattoo on the back of my right shoulder, a black butterfly on the left side of my collarbone and a blue and red butterfly on my left shoulder. Yeah, not so prissy now am I?

I'm pretty rude and sarcastic, once I get over the shock of someone actually talking to me. Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be all smiles and sunshine since I am a virtue, but sometimes, I just can't open that box within. You know, the one that holds all the good things inside of you, the one just begging to be opened. Just in case you didn't get it, that was a metaphor. There really isn't a box of everything good inside of you. Anyway, while I put up this brave and sweet facade, sometimes, the cruelty of the world is too much for me, so I just... retreat. I find shelter inside of myself and just linger there for days, going through the monotonous routine that is my life without any interest and minimal interaction. Once I am in this stupor, no one really knows when I'll come out. This act gives me time to reflect and decide what is truly important in my life and what I can live without. I am very reflective when it comes to things around me and tend to make critical observations on things that people don't even notice.

I am very emotional, the merest insulting comment will make me sad. Not enough to make me cry (unless it was something really bad), but it will hurt me enough for me to fall silent and hold it against you until you apologize or make it up to me in some way. I hold grudges, not the greatest thing I know, but... For being Kindness, I'm pretty cynical, rather than looking at the bright side of things, I always look for the things that can instantly drown the beautiful beneath tides of darkness. Bleak I know, you really don't have to remind me. I tend to blurt things without thinking, they are usually really rude and hurtful, but I am always quick with an apology. I hate lies and I hate liars. Even little white lies that are told often have negative consequences, which is why I do not lie. At all. I tend to get easily embarrassed, especially around those of the opposite sex. Blushing and quietness are my companions during those odd times, and it doesn't help that I'm pretty clumsy. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate love, hell, I don't even dislike it. Quite the contrary, I am in love with love, the very notion of it sends my heart into wild frenzies of palpitations. But as much I love it, I don't believe in it, or rather, I don't believe it will ever happen to me. I have pretty much given up on such a silly thing ever since my last boyfriend broke me, well, my heart. Same difference. One reason I have probably never found a date is because I have horrible balance. Tripping, knocking over things and spilling drinks are my talents, which is why I'm not much of a sports person. I tend to curl up with a nice book or maybe with my journal and write rather than play volleyball. I also love to sing and play the guitar, when I was younger I used to be in a band which is where my passion for music blossomed, I would die without music now.

One last thing, I love animals and would do anything to protect them. This includes the environment as well of course. Which is why I do everything I can to help them, recycle, clean up the streets, work at shelters, even in zoos, you name it. I can't stand animal abuse and am an active member of P.E.T.A, always taking my part in rallies and protests against animal testing or abuse. And since I love animals, I am not going to be a hypocrite and eat things like beef or pork, I am a hardcore vegetarian. Eating things that once lived, breathed, saw, shared and thrived in our world just doesn't do it for me, and I would rather keep it that way thank you very much. I despise the inhumane treatment of animals, such as animal testing or animal skinning for furs, and will do anything to prevent it.

I am a very complex person, and I have many secrets. I don't expect you to get me anytime soon, nor do I expect to get you. Don't overestimate me, don't underestimate me. Just. See. Me.

t h e . [ S T O R Y ]
Between м є and єηνу
See, it happened like . . .

Me again? Jeez, you know, I'm starting to feel rather self-centered.

It all began in a small town in Birmingham, England. My father, Joshua Malcolm Bronwen, was a man working on the moors of England, toting people back and forth, maybe even taking them out for a little fishing now and then. My mother, Renia Ala Martinez, was a thriving business woman with the health of an ox — strong and relentless, never once even catching a cold. She was in England for a business trip, taking over some company or perhaps negotiating with them for something her company needed. Point is, when it came time to go to the meeting, my mother had to ride a ferry across the moor in which my father worked — needless to say, he was the ferryman. It was like destiny — it was like love. No, scratch that, it was love. The meeting was canceled, traded instead for a night or fiery heat and burning ardor. The funny thing is that either they were too caught up in their passion to think about or maybe they forgot about bringing one key item along — a condom. In result, their sex cells combined and I was conceived. I am a child of a Spanish mother and an English father — so yes, I speak Spanish and do so fluently and often. I also have this slight British accent, some people like to mock me and laugh at me — I am very sensitive about it.

In case you haven't noticed, I am very different from other kids. This was true when I was little as well, always the outcast, always the one left out. I was — and am — a freak. I was always there though, when someone got hurt. When I was in elementary, a boy fell off the monkey bars, he had skinned his knee. I was there, I was the first one there — always. Handy with a band aid and some Neosporin, I had patched him up without the help of anyone else, this is how I met the Chaste one, sweet guy he is. Very shy though, possibly even more disastrous around the opposite sex than I am. This was my very first act of Kindness, ever since then, I've been looking out for people. Sounds quite virtuous doesn't it? I soon met the Temperate one after, borrowing lunch money I believe. You know, I don't think he ever paid me back, not that I really mind of course. I would do anything for a friend. As weird as I am, I never lacked a friend. The Chaste one and the Temperate one were always by my side, watching out for me as I do for them. Even when I reached high school, I stuck by them most of the time.

Through the end of middle school and start of high school I was quite the rebellious one, going through the phase that every teenager goes through, I started my short-lived life of minor crime. Stealing mostly, maybe mugging a few people here and there. Yeah, I know. I can see it on your face, "She's a virtue? Really?" Yep, sorry bub, but I am. Everything I did was for a reason. You see, my mother came down with cancer — leukemia, they told my father and I. My mother that was as strong as the foolhardy ox was dying. She was the one who supported us, she was the successful business woman, so when she went down, so did we. My father began working two jobs to keep up with the hospital bills, so he was not around much after that. Me? I began stealing, minor things of course. Flowers for my mother's room, a piece of jewelery we could sell, a couple of bucks I had pick-pocketed — you know, minor things. My father never questioned where they came from, he just... accepted them. Despite our efforts, my mother died. Pain and suffering were went through — both by her and by us. Every last bit of my mother's company money came to us and suddenly we were living the sweet life again — not that it would ever be really sweet again.

Since then, my father has been really different. Distant, cold. I suppose I've learned to mirror his feelings onto others because most people tend to stray away from me, not that I care. Ever since she died, I have really lived life as a semi-empty shell, still volunteering and still helping people of course, but never really relating to them, distant and cold — like father, like daughter. One day, something broke through the bleak clouds that hovered over me, obscuring my vision of everything that happened around me. He asked me out, my ex-boyfriend — Henry Scallow. I tried to love him, I tried everything to keep him near me. Adored him with every fiber of my being, I tried to be the perfect girlfriend, pleasing him in every way — except sex, I am proud to say I am still a virgin thank you very much — that I could, but I guess that was not enough. Wait, let me back up a bit here. Henry was... Something close to perfection, in my eyes at least. I had always spent time admiring him from afar, adoring him secretly and avoiding him whenever he trained his eyes and words at me. One day, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I couldn't believe it, it was a dream come true for me — everyone could see my personality do a 180. I was out of my deep stupor that pushed everyone away.

One day, I get the Envious one coming up to me asking for help on his History homework. I — of course — gracefully agree, happy to help anyone. Truth was, I had a bit of a crush on this guy. Even though I adored Henry, my heart was sent into frenzied palpitations every time the Envious one and I found something in common — whether was music tastes, or even favorite foods, I was surprised to see how similar we were. I was genuinely happy to be with him there, in the library helping him with something as trivial as homework. I don't know if he felt the same, but I felt a certain spark — one where there was none between Henry and I. We spent about an hour in the library, his homework was finished and we were conversing about our favorite books when Henry came in looking for me — it was time for our date. I was fearing the time with Henry because I knew it was not going to be a special as the one with the Envious one, I went anyway, waving goodbye to the Envious one and following Henry out.

It turned out that Henry was not worth the trouble, nor the effort. Nearly a week after, he dumped me. I was shattered, even more than when my mother died. I found no peace, not even in my sleep. Broken inside, I became the shell again, going through things like graduation blankly and without recognition. The only time my heart gave a start and threatened to beat again was when I looked at the Envious one, but my hopes were crushed by the fact that he was a Popular and I was a Freak, a kind Freak, but a Freak nonetheless. He never once saw me, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Graduation soon took that gift from me and I haven't seen him since. I have given up on such a foolish thing as love, but I still have not forgotten him — is it selfish to linger on such a petty experience? Is it foolish to hold on to the time we spent together as if it meant the world to me, but meant nothing to him?

Is it?

ρяιη¢єѕѕ ναмριяєѕкα wills me to breathe.

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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H o w can she b e g i n to ::try:: ?
>>MISUNDERSTOOD<< so m a n y times so many t i m e s
R.i.s.e above, rise [ again ]
T h o u g h t you <went> away but I m i s u n d e r s t oo d
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[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

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H o w can she b e g i n to ::try:: ?
>>MISUNDERSTOOD<< so m a n y times so many t i m e s
R.i.s.e above, rise [ again ]
T h o u g h t you <went> away but I m i s u n d e r s t oo d
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Afina gazed blankly at the papers in front of her, nothing was registering in her brain, nothing had for the past year and a half. The only time she reacted to anything in particular was when he was near, or more likely, in sight. Afina sighed quietly and ran a slender, pale hand over the paper as if she had never seen such a thing before — like it was all foreign to her. It was the registration forms for volunteering in the local shelter, not even animals held her passion anymore — nothing really did. Ever since Henry broke her, shattered her like a porcelain doll — though he treated her like she was nothing, nothing at all to him. Then again, for all she knew, she wasn't. Maybe it was all a ruse, or a dare, one to make fun of the Freak and make her cry. She would never given them the satisfaction though, she was stronger than what most people thought her to be. She was not especially petite, slightly wider in the shoulders than those anorexic girls and a bit more muscled. Even though she had never played any type of sport, she was built like an athlete. The clue that told that she was more of an indoor person was her clear, snow white complexion. Flawless and without a freckle from exposure to the harsh rays of the sun — Afina was a beauty. Of course, she really didn't believe it, she thought she was the scourge of the sewers and that's why Henry dumped her like last week's trash. Sighing, she ran a hand through her neck length, straight black hair, her golden-honey eyes beginning to slide down the page in a steady pace. It asked for all the basic details, name, age, sex, etc. Taking a pen in her hand, she began to fill out the information in neat, elegant lettering. Her handwriting was never particularly girly, nor anything like a boy's scrawl, but rather legibility was her ultimate goal when it came to writing and she eventually achieved it — after seventeen years of practice.

Afina wrote down all the things she needed and carefully sealed up the envelope, she needed to go hand it to the secretary in the office of the shelter. Sighing, she stood up and headed for the front door of the house. The house was not very big, nor very small. It was a medium sized house bug enough for two people, even though Afina's father now held all of her mother's money, he did not want to move into a bigger house. "Feels more desolate, abandonado hijita, vamos a nuestra casita," he had said, taking Afina's hand in his like when she was a little girl, and she let him. She was grateful that God allowed her to have one parent, instead of taking them both away. Opening the door slowly, she slipped on her black and hot pink checkered Vans and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Running a hand through her locks again, she began to walk the distance to the shelter. Since it was in the ritzy part of town, the shelter was more...luxurious than a regular shelter. There were still cages, but lined with soft blankets rather than with nothing, and there was aches of land behind the building where the dogs could play — ritzy it truly was. The shelter was not far from her house and she reached it in five minutes flat, her pace quick, yet calming somehow. She opened the glass door of the building and walked in, her Vans squeaking rather loudly as she slipped on the waxed floors. "Oh!" Afina cried out as she nearly fell, her Vans kept slipping. The commotion brought out the secretary from the confines of the front desk. A middle-aged woman with light, caramel colored hair — not a single gray hair in sight, no roots showing at the top. It was apparent that the woman had lived a stress-free life. Her name was Sasha, a kind woman who was always nice to Afina. Afina shot her a glare though when she caught sight of Sasha tried to conceal a giggle behind a hand. "Here honey, let me help you. The janitor is always putting too much wax on this floor," she said with an empathetic shake of her head.

After Sasha had managed to snag Afina and drag her away from the traitorous front of the office, she sat down with her in one of the pale cream colored love seats in a small sitting room next to the office — where the owners of a new puppy can coddle him all they wanted. Taking the applications from Afina, Sasha looked them over with pale green eyes. Looking up from the forms, she smiled at Afina and nodded. "Honey, you're hired. The first thing you can do is take a look at a new puppy we got it today," she spoke as she rose from the chair, walking over to the room where the puppies were kept. Afina was on her heels as Sasha kept talking, "Purebred Siberian Husky, three months, injured paw. We're not sure how it happened, but we're thinking it was glass of some kind — the injury is deep and ragged. Also, we managed to pull out some pieces from her paw, it looked like the glass from a car window. We need someone to take care of her, hug her, play with her and help nurse her back to health. I know about your aversion to blood, so I can clean the wound," Afina continued behind her without a word, so the puppy would be like her own. Except that one day, when someone wanted it, she would have to let her go. "Afina? What do you think?" Afina looked up and nodded, her amber-tinged, golden eyes guarded. Sasha gave her a smile before stopping in front of a cage, Afina almost "Awww'd." The creature inside was the sweetest, most innocent thing she had ever seen. A puppy the size of a laptop laid sprawled across the cage floor, her eyes closed and her head in between her front paws — one with a fresh, white bandage. Her fur was a pale blue interlaced with white and splotches of black — like the clearest day with hints of an upcoming storm. Her ears were a blue-black and pricked up, twitching as Afina approached the cage. The puppy opened her eyes and revealed icy blue eyes, rimmed with thick, small lashes. Afina felt her animosity melt away as the puppy got up carefully and limped up to the cage bars, it's long tail wagging. Afina smiled and reached her hand through the bars, the puppy licked them with a warm, thin tongue. A soft laugh from behind her made Afina turn her head. "She likes you, Afina," Sasha pointed her chin at the puppy who had quit licking her fingers and now exposed her stomach for a belly rub. Afina smiled and nodded, moving for Sasha, who held the key to open the door.

A few minutes later, the whole gang was in the sitting room. The puppy was securely in Afina's arms, though it squirmed, trying to lick Afina's face. Afina goggled quietly as the puppy did a backflip and landed on her back on the carpet, playing dead in order to get her long-awaited belly rub. Sasha also laughed, a sweet, low sound. "You can name her, all of our puppies here were named by the staff," Afina stiffened, if she named it, she would get too attached to it and would be able to let go when a person came to adopt it. Sasha took a look at Afina's frozen face and shook her head, "You're afraid aren't you? It's okay, give her a name — don't you think she deserves one Afina?" Sighing, Afina resumed her belly rub and the puppy wiggled in pleasure. "Vida, Life. This one has a great will to live, I can tell," Afina said softly with a smiled as she lifted Vida onto her lap. The puppy promptly gave her a swift link in the cheek, Afina giggled again — the sound of wind chimes in the wind. "Vida it is, and I agree. She definitely does," Sasha nodded with a smooth smile on her lips. The Siberian puppy, though injured, was full of energy that even Afina was having a hard time to control. "I'll leave you to some bonding time," Sasha said as she stood from the love seat, Afina nodded and put Vida on the floor, the puppy began to roll over continuous times until Afina got dizzy just following the puppy's erratic movements.

Vida served as a distraction for only a while.

Pretty soon, Afina's thoughts drifted off into the direction pf him again, his smooth talking, his gentlemanly behavior, though there was an aura of possessiveness around him, he was still the best guy she had ever talked to. They had talked so much and found out that they had so many things in common — it was almost frightening. Henry came for her then and took her away, she never exchanged words with him again. Sneaking looks was as far as she would go, no one so popular would ever talk to her — especially not getting involved with her. He had not taken any special meaning to their encounter, merely a smart Freak helping a Popular with homework — forget the conversation, for maybe it was all a hopeful illusion of her mind. Nothing to worry herself with, nothing to ache for. Why did she felt so lonely then? Like she needed to be near him, she needed to see him again. But after graduation, she had no idea where he was. She shouldn't care, this much she knew, but she couldn't help but wonder if he even thought of her — the weird girl who earned him an A in History. The weird girl with tons of piercings and an equally piercing — though very shy — personality. She shook her head roughly and gather Vida in her arms. She shouldn't care, she shouldn't care.

Should she?

[ZOMBiiFiCATiON]

ΚΛΣVΛП DΛЯΛΥ ΛΚIΉIΚӨ
The VIПDIᄃƬIVΣ sin of ЩЯΛƬΉ

t h e . [ B A S i C S ]
Call Me ; Kaevan, Kae, Dar, my little sister calls me Ray-Ray. But don't you dare call me Hiko, I'm nobody's prince.
Label Me ; A little toy soldier, standing at attention.
See Me ; I like those lil mamas.
Date Me ; E i g h t e e n.

t h e . [ M i R R O R ]
What you should know about MΣ is . . .
Yo, around here, I'm known as the a*****e. Yeah, go ahead, call me that. I really don't give a ********, my feelings won't get hurt. Yeah, I'm rude, yeah, I'm apathetic to your feelings, yeah, I'm a jerk — get over it. The one thing I love in life is watching other people in pain — a sadist you might call me — and I really get happy if I inflict the pain.

t h e . [ S T O R Y ]
Between MΣ and PΛƬIΣПᄃΣ
See, it happened like . . .
Start out with a brief background of your character--important things that formed him or her into the person he or she is now. Include their friends, dating habits, whatever you think needs to be known. Then, describe the event that took place between your character and his or her opposing virtue from your character's point of view. You can add whatever you want. Again, be creative!

PЯIПᄃΣƧƧ VΛMPIЯΣƧΚΛ wills me to breathe.