Eclectic

[font=Century Gothic][size=1]Rosa glared down at Billy as he crawled out of the tent, eyes narrowed in her anger. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" When his phone rang, she stayed quiet but continued to glare. No matter how much she might have changed since falling in with these 'friends', she would always remain respectful. "Just hurry up." She turned away slightly, her frame shaking slightly with contempt.[/size][/font]

Why, thank ye kindly Eikou and eternity. I love all of it. eternity, yours has all the lovely grainy-ness I envisioned in the wonderous set I couldn't make. Eikou, it's just amazing and other such great adjectives. It has even more of the grungeyness in that beautiful border. ... Err... I'm running out of words of praise, so return to your regularly scheduled slaving in my honor. ... I mean, filling of my requests. eternity, I have no idea who he is, though as Eikou said, he's reminiscent of the newer Castlevania art. I got everything from [url="http://www.animevisions.net"]http://www.animevisions.net[/url]. Now I must go revel in the beauty of what you two have given me.

[font=Century Gothic][size=1]Rosa watched everyone with a cool, calculating eye. This time couldn't be anymore perfect. She had banked a lot on Billy and Leah's mutual love, but from the little half-whispers she thought she heard, things couldn't possibly be any better. Sure, Imric had left and that wasn't something she had planned on, but these things happened. She would simply have to plan more carefully next time. There was sure to be a next time. It was how she had nearly mastered this mental game of initation in the first place. All there was left to do now was to wait. Wait and see if he would break.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]OOC: I know it's bad but I could think up a better way to convey Roa's personality.[/size][/font]

[font=Century Gothic][size=1]Lauren looked back at him, tears threatening to fall. [b]"It's beautiful. I... I hope she gets to read it."[/b] She gave a weak little smile before walking out and heading for the near empty library. At least there she could sob peacefully and regret not telling Leon how she felt in any way she wished. This particular low called for a few drinks after a bout of furious clubbing, maybe a coffee afterwards to help with the hangover the next morning. She dug through her pockets, hoping her car keys were still inside. With a resigned sigh, she headed back to 12G, hoping she could slip in and grab her keys without anyone taking notice.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]OOC: Lauren feels like such an unsensitive prick now. I just want to slap her. ... I know, I'm very much random, but I feel a disclaimer is necessary. Eclectic is in very few ways like Lauren. Come to her with any little problem so she can complain and threaten new people for a change.[/size][/font]

[font=Century Gothic][size=1]Well, now that I've decided to come back again, I need a new banner and avatar... and one of those background ma-gigs that have not so suddenly sprung up in my absence. Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten how to make such things look all pretty. Therefore, I petition you, oh great artists of OB, fill my not-so-humble-or-simple request with one of the images attached? I tend to change frequently, so if you would be so kind as to fill one that is not yet filled, I'd be much obliged. Thank you, and good night.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]Since I have the feeling no one will want to scroll through a bunch of posts and such, I'll add any filled stuffs below.[/size][/font] [u][font=Century Gothic][size=1]Chii[/size][/font][/u] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21162[/img][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21168[/img][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]by FirePheonix727[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][u]Gravitation[/u][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21187[/img][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21188[/img][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]by Rhian[/size][/font] [u][font=Century Gothic][size=1]...The Other Ones[/size][/font][/u] [font=Century Gothic][size=2][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21189[/img][/size] [font=Century Gothic][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21190[/img][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]by Crucifix[/size][/font] [/size][font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21196[/img][/size][/font] [/font][font=Century Gothic][size=1][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=21197[/img][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]by eternity and Eikou[/size][/font]

[font=Century Gothic][size=1]Lauren eventually wandered back to 12G, half-hoping Leon had been in the wrong room. She turned the key in lock and pushed the door open enough for her to look in and gasp.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]"Leon, what the...? Don't tell me..."[/b] A look of pure concern passed over her eyes as she sighed and closed the door. [b]"Let me take care of these."[/b] She walked over to her bags, pulling out the bandages her parents always made her carry, muttering something about 'masochistic tendencies'.[/size][/font] [i][font=Century Gothic][size=1]I could be missing one of the best drinking nights ever... But I guess the company could be worse.[/size][/font][/i] [b][font=Century Gothic][size=1]"So, you're one of my new roommates. Tell me now if this is going to happen often."[/size][/font][/b]

Personally, I love RahXephon. It was among the few anime movies I have seen, but it still is, in my mind, the best. I love the colors, animation, and generally everything about it. The plot helped quite a lot. Another I quite enjoy is Blood: The Last Vampire. I'm a bit fuzzy on it since I haven't seen it in a while, but I still enjoyed it. So there's my narrow opinion, what's your much broader one?

[size=1][b]Name[/b]: Rosalina (Rosa) Morrissey [b]Age[/b]: 15[/size] [size=1][b]Gender[/b]: Female [b]Appearance[/b]: [url="http://previews.surfsitesusa.com/22741.zip.jpg"]http://previews.surfsitesusa.com/22741.zip.jpg[/url] [b]Personality[/b]: Rosa is the calm and calculating type, prefering to sit back and come up with a plan to carrying it out. She's very smart and flaunts it whenever possible. She enjoys her role on being the gang's brain, and loves to manipulate Karl.[/size]

[font=Century Gothic][size=1][/size][/font]Lauren got up silently, heading back to her room for a quick change. She dug through her pockets for the key, not paying much attention to where she was going, until she bumped head first into Leon. "Oh, sorry, I... Leon? I... I think I have the wrong room." She felt a little pang, things she'd tried to drown out. She turned on her heel and walked as fast as she could without running. [i]Someone up there must really hate me...[/i]

[font=Century Gothic][size=2][color=sienna]Lauren pulled into her cherry red Toerag the near empty parking lot, the tinted windows tightly closed and barely containing the blaring club mixes playing. She carefully turn off the iPod and tucked it into her coat pocket.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=2][color=sienna][i]I wonder who my roommate will be this year? Maybe they'll give me some one more interesting so I can finally break out of this shell.[/i][/color][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=2][color=sienna]She lugged her things up to her room, 12G, barely glancing at what was around her, before rushing down to dinner. She noticed a few people she had seen the year before, but didn't take time to talk to them. She ate little, not really tasting any of it. With any luck, she could hit a club or two tonight to get ready for classes in the morning.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=2][color=#a0522d]OOC: Sorry I'm so late, and for my horrible first post. But I'll get better. I swear it![/color][/size][/font]

[color=sienna][size=2][font=Century Gothic][b]Name:[/b] Lauren Ryhines [b]Age:[/b] 17[/font][/size][/color] [color=sienna][size=2][font=Century Gothic][b]Gender: Female[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] [url="http://www.cupped-expressions.net/rod/die/rod03.jpg"]http://www.cupped-expressions.net/rod/die/rod03.jpg[/url] She'd be the one with dark hair and glasses. [b]Personality:[/b] Lauren enjoys to be the quiet bookworm most of the time, passing every test with perfect or near perfect marks. However, every weekend she slips off to the nearby clubs and parties, returning only when there are no more drinks or it's Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning, she's sober and back to her usual studious self. [b]Bio:[/b] Lauren has always been a good student, but has been the wild child for even longer. Since the tender age of twelve, she's downed the best and worst of alcoholic drinks, tried her fair share of different drugs (none of which she uses anymore), and been to any club, pub, or bar that would take her IDs. Her parents have more than enough money to support both her education and her exploits. She knows her parents won't believe she's buying books forever though. She wants to change her ways eventualy, but life's just too much fun right now. [b]Lessons Taken:[/b] Psychology, History, French, and Calculus. (I'll only leave the last one there if you have no problems with it.) [b]Extra:[/b] Student Council [/font][/size][/color]

[font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Name: [/b]Antionette Noire[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Alias:[/b] Gepetto (I've probably spelled this wrong so feel free to correct me.)[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Gender: [/b]Female[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Age: [/b]23[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Height: [/b]5'7[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Weight:[/b] 120 lbs.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Physical Description:[/b] Antionette has long blonde hair kept in a perpetual bun and a piercing ice blue gaze. [/size][/font][url="http://www.peabodyhistorical.org/images/gfh4.jpg"][font=Century Gothic][size=1]Her clothes[/size][/font][/url][font=Century Gothic][size=1] are black and crimson whenever possible.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Personality:[/b] Antionette is very quiet and introspective, preferring to be alone whenever possible. A recluse by choice, she hides herself away to drown in fiction and fantasy.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Pseudonatural Abilities:[/b] Antoinette has the ability to manipulate the movement of other living creatures. With enough concentration, she can control every action, even speech. However, the person will always remember what has happened unless another changes that memory.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Country of Origin:[/b] France[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][b]Biography:[/b] Antionette's childhood in Bordeux was happy for the most part. She used her powers from the age of ten, not recognizing them for what they were, to train dogs and other small animals for shows and local circuses. Eventually, she began to study dance and quickly became a rising star. At seventeen, she moved to Paris to further her studies and join a small ballet company there. After being in Paris for two years, her company was finally offered a chance to perform at the grandest theatre in the city. Rehersals were tedious and she slowly began wiling her peers to perform better, culminating in a flawless opening night. Her company began world renowned for their perfect performances but she remained half in the shadows, fearing what uses the government could put her to. She stayed in the city until the Taint Purges, when her closest friend was executed because of what she had done for their ballet company. She fled to England, no longer a diva, but increasing quiet, humble, and antisocial. She learned of the changes in French law through letters from remaining family and friends and turned to the Academy for sanctuary.[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]-----[/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]Just a note, the phrase 'her clothes' is a link. I hope this is okay.[/size][/font]

OOC: I can't believe I forgot all about this! Wait for me please! Anamaria rolled out of bed and yawned, feeling completely and utterly hung over. [i]I should really lay off the vodka before work...[/i] "Hey, Nani, wanna go to Gateway?" She turned and peered blearily at this strange kid at her bedroom door. "Who the hell are you?" she yawned rubbing her eyes. "Your cousin," he shook his head and walked in, picking up clothes for her to wear. "Your parents are off on a business trip again. Can you believe they still don't know?" "Yes. Wanna do me a favor?" She plopped down into a nearby chair and yawned. "No, never again," he smiled and laid her clothes next to her. "I'm sure you'll find someone willing at work. Now go take a shower or you'll be late." "Can't I just get fired and do the pimp thing?" He shrugged. "Aren't you the one who said this job paid well?" "Point taken." She shuffled into the bathroom. ----- As Nani walked to the club, she was stopped by a smiling man in a green suit. She glared and tried to pass him, but he blocked her everytime. "Look, I only pimp 'em, I'm not one of 'em. If you wait a few hours, I might be able to get you someone real nice." He gave her a quick once-over and nodded. "This is a perfect opprotunity for you. We're doing some drug testing in the area. Just give me a call." He slipped an enveloppe into her hand and walked away. She watched him go, then continued on her way. She was late enough as it was.

[size=1][color=#0000ff][color=black]Oh, oh, can I be the one person? This looks promising.[/color][/color][/size] [size=1][color=#0000ff][color=#000000][/color] [b][color=black][b]Name:[/b] [/color][/b][color=black]Anamaria 'Nani' Slovenskii (Jamaican and Polish... Wow, I must be high on something.)[/color] [color=black][b]Age: [/b]16[/color] [b][color=black]Gender:[/color][/b][/color][/size][size=1][color=black] Female[/color][/size] [size=1][color=black][b]Description:[/b] see attachment and ignore the fact that it says Vice[/color] [/size][b][size=1][color=#0000ff][color=black]Talent:[/color][/b][color=black] Nani sings backup for whoever will let her. She works at Gateway as a bartender.[/color] [b][color=black]Bio:[/color][/b] [color=black]Nani has lived around drugs her entire life. Childhood in the ghetto was spent dodging bullets and passing dealers on the way home. When she was twelve, she decided to stop and watch the oh-so-high junkies on a corner close to home. One handed her the joint, and the rest has been a blur of highs, withdraws, and normal life. She takes almost any job, except prostitution, to pay for her drugs, though she does do the occasional pimping. She also loves the fine spirits, like good wines, rums, and vodkas, but she avoids beer and cheap drinks.[/color] [color=#000000][/color] [color=#000000]How's this?[/color] [/color][/size]

Lala looked at him curiously before staring at Lian, suddenly full of focus and intent. "Wind Talker, how do you know the Book Man? Or do you know him? If so, why not call to him by name? What else is there to this relationship?" She continued to stare as Lian shifted slightly. "Come on, come on," she whispered, barely heard. "Tell me, tell me." She fell into a trance of sorts, hoping the slight reflections in her eyes would show something. "I would let one of them tell you. No one takes very kindly to prying. Besides, there isn't much to it." Lala looked up to find Vahnhels gazing down with something like amusement glittering in his eyes. "Will I have to leave since there is only room for two? I'll understand if I do." She plopped down into a nearby chair. "Or is it up to the Book Man?"

Could someone please make me a banner on Squee and Shmee or Johnny of JtHM? It can be in color, but I'd prefer black and white. Everything else is completely up to you. My username doesn't have to be one the banner and if it is, please make it small. I'd prefer the names of the characters anyways. Thanks in advance. -Eclectic

"Yes, yes, yes, I will bring him to you," she whispered at the breeze, nodding slightly. "Don't bother with it," said said, taking his arm and tugging him away. "Catch her first." "What? I have to take care of this first." Dimitri gave her an exasperated look. "Fine," she sighed, "I'll do it. You're just not fast enough when it comes to drawing weapons, Book Man." She closed her eyes, concentrating on the circle of string she was now weaving through her fingers at a blindingly fast rate. Her fingers stopped and her eyes shoot open. "Bind." The string glowed a light green as a similiar light surrounded the shadow. "Well, what are you waiting for? That's the only binding spell I know. And if you don't hurry, it will find a way to break my spell and attempt to slit your throat."

Lala wandered aimlessly through Tokyo, glad for the night's curtain. Her eyes roamed over everything before her, the cars and their drivers honking angrily at her as she meandered down the streets, silence with a glance from those over-bright green orbs. But she always looked away quickly, afraid of what she might see in a reflection. "No, no, no. No more reflections, no more Sight, no more eyes," she muttered, winding towards the train station. She stared at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. "Oh, seems I will have to find someone here. Is that why you've brought me here?" She stopped and gazed at her reflection in the tiles. A pair of fiery eyes replaced her own and the reflection nodded. "Really? Let's see, let's see. Will you lie again? I hate the lies, they lead to you, always to you." Again, the reflection nodded. "Truly? Is it him then? The one we Saw?" It seemed as if the reflection was to nod again, but she looked away. "Methinks I hath seen the Answer. Or could it be an Omen? Or is it just a man with a book?" She walked up to Dimitri, head cocked to the side. "Are you the one I'm looking for?"

[size=2]Name: Lalanei (Lala) Moore Age: 17 Gender: Female Species: Hunter; Southern Height: 5'6 Weight: 125 lbs. Description: Lala's short black hair has been dyed red at its ends and is spiked to perfection each day. Her light brown complexion is usually covered in makeup and her over-bright green eyes are always rimmed in black. Her ears, eyebrows, and lips are riddled with piercings of varying size and and shape. She wears baggy black jeans, black boots, a black tank top, long red fingerless gloves that reach to her shoulders, and more rings and bracelets than necessary. It's said that her gloves hide ancient runes she has engraved into her skin; she tends to drop cryptic hints as to their meaning. Weaponry: 'Watcher's Band'- a bracelet Lala found two years ago. It has the ability to transform itself into many ancient weapons, such as a sword of any kind, scythe, or whip. Cat's Cradle- a fine string Lala tends to play with. It appears to have no beginning or end. When woven into the right pattern, it can cast several spells, most of which are shielding. Gifts: Mirror, Mirror- allows Lala to use any reflective surface to look into the Beyond. The better the reflection, the more effective the power. Madness- projects images from the Beyond into the mind of another, usually driving them insane. The most powerful of her gifts. Foresight: precognition during and before battle. Bio: Lalanei was born in South Africa, the product of a forbidden love. She left the country at the age of two for Haiti. There, she grew up happily until her mother's sudden death when she was ten. She was sent to live with her father, who now resided in New Orleans. She enjoyed life with him until she began to notice that there were no mirrors or fountains in her home, like all the others in the quarter. Her father refused to tell her and no one else knew. Frustrated on a rainy day, she stopped and knelt by a puddle in the street. She looked into the Beyond and ran home. Somehow, it seemed her father knew and he had her committed to an asylum that day, one owned by the Southern Hunters. There, she learned to control her power of Sight, but not without consequence. For six years, she lived life in eccentricity just bordering on insanity. Lala has adopted a slighty gothic lifestyle, draping herself in black and surrounding herself with pounding, loud music at all possible times. She refuses to even acknowledge the Beyond if she can avoid it. She has decided to leave to asylum and searches for Rev. Gravier for reasons even she can't fully understand. If there's anything wrong, just tell me. [/size]

Hello all. I've something new for y'all. I've been working on this for a while now. Okay, three days, but that's pretty good for my attention span. Anyways, it's supposed to be a houguan(vodun priest)/usurper holding the head of a spoiled prince, probably during some sort of ceremony, but I haven't decided yet. The ribbons coming from the head read "kill our kings", "murder our monarchs", "destroy the divine", and "slay our saints". I'm not sure if my hand writing's legible or not, so there you have it. I think that's all there is, except the fact that my shading doesn't show up very well. Enjoy. [url="http://www.freewebs.com/moderndaysinner/killourkings2.png"]http://www.freewebs.com/moderndaysinner/killourkings2.png[/url]

Imara sat in the café until early the next morning, talking with Matt about nothing and occupying her thoughts with slightly more pressing matters. She'd leave Matt alone, at least for now. Just to keep Dept. 7 awake. But it was nearly time for her to move again. She'd become so attached to her apartment and 'friends', she really didn't want to leave. [i]Well, since I'm changing my diet, why not change my moving schedule? I'll stay here for a few more weeks, that's all. Besides, Matt's too cute to die just yet.[/i] She left around 4 am, wanting enough time for a quick breakfast before classes. OOC: Sorry if my posts are short, I just don't have the greatest amounts of time.

"What's wrong?" Matt looked a little worried, and with good reason. She had stopped dead on the sidewalk, glaring furiously at a spot that appeared to be nothing more than shadow. "Imara?" "Oh, it's nothing. Maybe I should just go home now. I have a paper due in the morning." She turned and hailed a cab, determined to find her follower. Her eyes glittered a little, the preternatural emerald filtering out the flecks of grey. "I would be faster if I just drove you home. I really don't mind..." "No, it's better this way. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" A cab pulled up and before he could say more, she jumped in and growled directions back to her apartment. Not only had this onlooker ruined a perfectly good meal, he'd interrupted a date with someone she actually had a slight attachment to. She arrived home within the hour and comtemplated the events of the night. Everything led only to one group, Dept. 7. She raged at them for a few minutes, before calling Matt and setting up another meeting later that night at a quaint little café. [i]At least the night's not a total waste,[/i] she thought.

Imara strolled aimlessly through the Metropolitan, gazing at the paintings for a few seconds before moving on. Nothing really caught her eye, at least none of the art. She spotted one of her classmates across the room, head bent intently over something. She meandered over, gazing around his curtain of flaming red hair. "Hey, Matt. What are you working on?" He jumped, but flashed her a bright smile. "Oh, uh, just a little sketch. The inspiration just kind of hit me, ya know?" She smirked and nodded, sliding onto the bench beside him. "I think it's wonderful. You should show it to me when it's done. I'd love to see the finished product." "Oh, I wasn't planning on finishing it, but I guess if you want me too. You...you wanna do something later? I know of this great club and I heard you like clubbin' so..." He looked away, probably a bit embarassed. "I would love to go. Meet me at my apartment around nine, okay?" She took his sketchbook and wrote down her address in her neat, flowing script. "Bye now." She left eh museum and headed for her apartment. She'd have to look good, even if it was just to feed. Four hours later, she walked into Antoinette, a trendy little goth club near the edge of the city, with Matt by her side.. She'd play nice with him for a while and see if she could find anything more exciting.

[font=Century Gothic][size=1][color=sienna]A while ago, around the beginning of this school year, I started writing this. It's kinda grown since then, but I still want to get a critique on it so far. It's written in preludes, which are actually in the future, and movements, the story. Most of them, at least the ones I have typed, are very short. Anyways, here's the story thus far. Oh, and the band's name is tentative. I'll gladly take suggestions.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][color=#a0522d][/color][/size][/font] [size=1][color=#a0522d]First Prelude[/color][/size] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][color=#a0522d][/color][/size][/font] [font=Century Gothic][size=1][color=#a0522d][size=2][size=1]Fayren peered out at the crowd. The club seemed nearly full. It was the last night they would open for Spineshank. Sighing, she turned to Hayden, her bassist, and Raquel, her drummer.[/size] [size=1]"He's out there. Are we ready to deal with him?" They both nodded. She had discussed this many times over. "Even during the set?"[/size] [size=1]"We've gone over this hundreds of times." Hayden stepped towards her and was just about to give her a reassuring kiss when the club's manager ducked backstage.[/size] [size=1]"You're on in two," he barked. Stopping short, he looked from Hayden and Fayren to Raquel and back again with a curious look in his eyes.[/size] [size=1]"They love each other," Raquel said from her spot on the far wall. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The manager only shook his head and left.[/size] [size=1]"Thanks," Fayren said as she pulled away from Hayden. "I don't know where we'd be without you."[/size] [size=1]Raquel let out one of her ringing laughs. "In Hell, of course. That, or in a garage looking for a decent drummer. Just don't let that bastard get in between you, alright?" With a tiny smirk, she leaned back against the wall and fell into a meditative state.[/size] [size=1]"Don't worry," Hayden whispered softly into her ear. "I won't let him hurt you." He pulled her close and gave a light, but lingering, kiss before prepping himself.[/size] [size=1]//But there's nothing you can do for me, love...// She thought back to all that had happened as she absentmindedly put on the microphone and tuned. Stretching a bit, she noticed the tattoo on the back of her right hand, the mark of the Agents of Heaven, or Angels as mortals so loved to call them. Where it had once been black, it now glowed an angry, dark red. She rubbed at it, as if that could ever make it go away or make it what it once was. It was meant to show the Servants of Hell, or Dæmons, other Angels, and psychics like Raquel and Sirel that she was a Fallen: an Angel removed from grace and Paradise. She spared a glance at Hayden. He too bore a Mark, but he hid it as much as possible. //Come on, get back in the game...// With a furious shake of her head, she attempted to clear her mind, but to no avail.[/size] [size=1]"Ladies and gentlemen, it's my pleasure to introduce Blood Red Moon!" The crowd clapped, a little subdued but at least they clapped. Fayren glanced at her band mates before smiling at the crowd and playing their newest song.[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=1]First Movement[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=1]Gabriél looked away in disbelief at what she was hearing. //How could he?// "Why, Uriel? Why?" she asked, forcing herself to look at him again. Her eyes welled with tears she refused to let fall in front of him.[/size] [size=1]"Don't," Uriel ordered as he turned his back. "Do you know how hard this is for me?"[/size] [size=1]She spun him around angrily and stared into his bright green eyes. "This must be terribly agonizing for you! You get to stay in Paradise while I'm sent to that hellhole?! And for what? Nothing! How is that hard for you?!"[/size] [size=1]"I'm sorry but you know your ideas have become too controversial for Him." He turned away again. "I'm sorry."[/size] [size=1]"Don't be sorry. I know you're not. Just understand. Can you do that for me? Please?" A single tear rolled down her cheek.[/size] [size=1]"Don't cry, please don't. You're the one who doesn't understand. I love you, can't you see that?"[/size] [size=1]Gabriél shuddered. "No," she whispered after a brief, thick silence, shuddering again. "Goodbye, my lord." With that, she walked away, trying with all her might not to look back. Uriel turned to watch her until she became a microscopic speck on the horizon. He would have a duty to fulfill, but that could be put off as long as possible.[/size] [size=2][size=1]"I'm sorry, my angel Gabriél."[/size][/size] [size=2][size=1][/size][/size] [size=2][size=1]Second Movement[/size][/size] [size=2][size=1][/size][/size] [size=2][size=2][size=1]Simon laughed to himself before turning to his most faithful of Servants, Hayden. "Heaven is losing an Agent. Find her, Convert her. It should not be too hard; her spirit has already been broken. Check the usual spots."[/size] [size=1]Hayden bowed low and, as he straightened, smirked. "Yes, of course, sir." Simon smiled. Hayden turned on his heel and headed into the club downstairs. After reaching the bottom of the spiral staircase leading to the offices, he strode towards the bar, calling over an old friend: Ria the bartender.[/size] [size=1]"Oh! What a nice little surprise. Haven't seen you in a good long while. Been working hard for the boss?"[/size] [size=1]"Of course. There's nothing I can really do about that, now is there?"[/size] [size=1]Ria made a little grunting laugh. "Right, suckered in by the bad soap plot like most of us? I thought you' be too smart for that one."[/size] [size=1]He looked away. "Just do me a favor. If a seventeen-year-old looking girl comes in here, give her whatever she wants and bill me."[/size] [size=1]She smirked. "You haven't changed a bit. Still taking jobs whenever you can. Or maybe you have changed and you have a new girlfriend."[/size] [size=1]He continued to stare off into the distance with a poker face. "Just do it. I have to go."[/size] [size=1]"Always such a charmer." She sauntered away to serve a customer. Hayden left through the back door and walked quickly to his motorcycle in the nearly empty rear parking lot. Carefully, he checked it for any kind of damage and wiped away a tiny smudge. Starting the engine, he thought of where to check first and headed for the police station. Fallen almost always ended up there for some reason or another.[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=1]Third Movement[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=2][size=1]"You idiot mortal! I have the power to crush you between my thumb and forefinger! I could rip your skin from your flesh with a single thought and use your heartstrings to create the sweetest elegies!" Gabriél turned to the officers attempting to restrain her. "As for you fools, how dare you try to hold me down!" With an enormous surge of raw energy, she threw them to the ground. They stood again warily as the chief tried reason.[/size] [size=1]"Look, kid, we--"[/size] [size=1]"'Kid'?! I'm older than you could ever imagine to become! I was born long before your family tree was even a sapling. Yet you dare to call me a child?!"[/size] [size=1]"Look, just calm down and tell me what happened earlier this evening, for the report."[/size] [size=1]"NEVER give me an order again! I take orders from my Lord and my King; you are neither."[/size] [size=1]"So...you're a foreigner? May I please see your papers and passport then? This could all just be a cultural misunderstanding."[/size] [size=1]"What are these things of which you speak? I have lived Above for millenia."[/size] [size=1]"Okay...so you're an uptown girl? Who's your father?"[/size] [size=1]"She's not an uptown girl or a foreigner, Chief, just my poor lost cousin," Hayden said as he strolled into the station, silently laughing at all the chaos that had been caused. Gabriél stared blankly at him as the police chief nodded solemnly and dismissed all the charges.[/size] [size=1]"D...don't forget to tell your boss what I did for you, okay? And tell him my wife and kids appreciated his gifts?"[/size] [size=1]"Of course I will. Just make sure that my cousin her doesn't get into any trouble again, got it?" The chief nodded and let Hayden and Gabriél leave without another word, for fear of upsetting Simon.[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=1]Fourth Movement[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=2][size=1]"What do you want with me?" Gabriél eyed him cautiously as they walked out of the station. For some reason, she held a deep and immeadiate mistrust of him. "Are you an Agent?"[/size] [size=1]He paused and eyed her for a moment, considering the consequences of his answer.[/size] [size=1]"Yes, I am," he finally said.[/size] [size=1]"Then know that I can never be Converted." She promptly turned and walked in the opposite direction. He sighed and climbed onto his motorcycle to follow. "Why do you pursue me, Daemon?" she asked loudly.[/size] [size=1]"You know," he commented, voice muffled by his helmet, "if you want to pass for a mortal, you'll need to speak like one. Otherwise, you'll stick out like a sore thumb."[/size] [size=1]"You imputent, self-righteous bastard!"[/size] [size=1]"No one says 'imputent' anymore, do you realize that? People would think you were just being a wise ***."[/size] [size=1]"I have the knowledge of ancients! Of course I am intelligent!"[/size] [size=1]Hayden sighed. He obviously would never get through to her this way. "I have a job to do. You coming?" He revved the engine and waited. Slowly, haltingly, she climbed on behind. "Hey, got a name?" [/size] [size=1]"Yes, ...Fayren." He was a little shocked to hear his sister's name but passed it off as just a coincidence, revving the engine again and speeding off.[/size] [size=1]"Where are we going?" she asked tentatively after a few blocks. She was shaking and her breathing was slightly heavier. [/size] [size=1]//If she's like this now, what is she going to do in a car?//[/size] [size=1]"H...Hayden?"[/size] [size=1]He braked suddenly and whipped around to face her. "Never pry my mind again. You won't like what find. We're going to my apartment." He watched her storm grey eyes narrow and a defiant look cross her face. "Do you have anywhere else to go?" Her eyes narrowed even more but her resistance was quelled. He turned and continued until stopping in front of a stately complex building. "Get off. Wait by the door. Don't go anywhere or talk to anyone. Got it?" She nodded, still mutinous, and stood by the enormous steel door. He felt the grey slits boaring into his back as he rode to the subterranean parking garage. He strode back, hoping she had listened to him. As he rounded the corner of the apartment building, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was still at the door, but facing it now for some reason. He rummaged through his pockets for his keys as he continued walking. That's when he saw him: a young man he'd seen at the club a few days earlier. He wasn't dead yet, just unconscious. "****, what did you do to him?" He glared at her in disbelief, not so much because she had done it, but that she was still capable of it. //I always believed that Angels lost most psychic abilities upon Falling. At least, that's what Simon has always told me. Was he lying? Why? Why lie about something that could get me killed?//[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=1]Fifth Movement[/size] [size=2][/size] [size=1]"I only tried to revive him. He was very intoxicated and something very traumatic happened. I cannot tell what, though. Somehow, I'm locked from his mind."[/size] [size=1]"What the hell are you talking about?! TRY HARDER!" He stared her down angrily, as if she had done something terribly wrong. With the tiniest bit of prying, she saw that was exactly how he felt, with something deeper and darker beneath it.[/size] [size=1]"I told you, I can't do anything more unless you want him to be paralyzed for the rest of his life. He must be a psychic of some kind, a pretty good one I would say. I can't even learn his name." Fayren gazed down at him, a boy in her eyes though he was 21 or so. He had to be very talented, or protected, if he could evade her like this. She fell into a trance, traveling to the border of his consciousness to monitor his erratic thoughts for any change or rationality. A stream of light poured down, reminding her strongly of Paradise. Two identical figures glided down as if on wings of some kind. As they proceeded slowly closer, the Angel began to notice the subtle differences in them. One was the young man; this one looked sickly and weak, leaning heavily on the other. The second had to be some close relative of some kind and it was this one who spoke when they reached the bottom of the light.[/size] [size=1]//Do not worry, Fayren. My name is Raquel and this is my cousin, Sirel. You must help him. I know you remember how. Sirel will explain everything when he awakes. Goodbye for now.// She ascended the ray again, leaving Sirel to collapse into her arms. With a deep, calming breath, Fayren began the rituals and incantations needed to restore his health. It would take at least an hour, even with her speed and experience, but she would be sure to take her time and be meticulous.[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=1]Second Prelude[/size] [size=1][/size] [size=2][size=1]The curtain drifted apart as Fayren began the first few semi-classical strains of "Fall". Hayden and Raquel joined in as she took a clearing breath and started to sing.[/size] [i][size=1]All the years / Wasted / All the tears / Jaded / As I spiral further down / Centuries of waiting / Feels like you're just raining / Pouring acid down / Burning on a frown / Looks like you're gonna win / Weakness is my greatest sin / See an Angel Fall again / Loving you's my greatest sin / As I Fall / ...[/size][/i] [size=1]Her eyes searched the crowd of drinking or drunken on-lookers as she played the instrumental measures between verse and refrain. There, in the middle of the club, so like a center of gravity, sat Uriel. His eyes swam in shallow little pools of tears but he still looked determined. She sang the chorus and continued one, hoping that the haunting melody of their lost relationship and parting would sway his nerve.[/size] [i][size=1]All the good times / Fading / All the bad times / Lead'ning / As I spiral further down / Days pass / I'm still waiting / Weeks pass / I'm still hoping / My head is spinning 'round and 'round / My feet can never touch that Ground / And I Fall[/size][/i] [size=1]She looked into his eyes again as her fingers near mechanically strummed the soft echo of Hayden's solo. He must have recognized the tune, part of a forgotten hymn he had taught her, for a fond look lingered in his bathing eyes.[/size] [size=1]//I might actually leave this concert alive... Maybe.// The song ended, softly echoing in the amps as the next began.[/size] [size=1][/size] [font=Century Gothic][size=1]Comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated.[/size][/font] [/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/color][/size][/font]

[font=Century Gothic]Name: Imara Mérloe [font=Century Gothic]Age: around 93, appears 18[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Race: Vampyre[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Race Information: Unlike the common misconceptions, Imara doesn't burn in sunlight and shrink away from crosses. On the contrary, she loves to visit cathedrals in full daylight, though under some cover, to stare at and ponder the stained glass windows and sculptures. She doesn't have any kind of adverse reaction to garlic, though she doesn't care for it. The only things that could kill her are direct sunlight and silver.[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Description (Mundane): Imara's short and fashionably cut ruddy brown hair is usually left out to float around her chin. Her smiling grey-green eyes and ruddy complexion are always complimented by something at the height of fashion.[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Description (True): Imara has pale white, almost glowing skin, bright emerald green eyes, and platinum blonde hair that falls loose and full to her shoulders.[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Occupation: Artist, Voice Actor, and College Freshman at UNY[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Bizarre/Supernatural powers: (It may not be considered a power but...) Imara has a near unquenchable thirst and bloodlust. She also has heightened senses and superhuman strength. If she abuses these powers, she usually falls into a deep, restless sleep for a week or so at most or a day at least.[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Weapons/Possessions: sickle and chain, a red Mini Cooper, and a large 'inheritance' (I'm sure I'll have to get rid of something here. Just give me an idea of what.)[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Background: At the time of her embrace, Imara was just 18 and living under the name Sara Mooreland. She hadn't lived as a vampyre in her former world for long before she was thrown into this. While most of her past is fuzzy at best, she clearly remembers her twin passions: the fine arts and blood. For the past few years, she's satiated her apetites by attending different colleges, museum exhibits, and the like as well as frequenting night clubs in the city.[/font] [font=Century Gothic]Misc. Information: Imara keeps as up to date, ahead if possible, on the latest trends and fashions. She always wears clothes that completely cover her during the day, even in summer.[/font] [/font]