Raiha

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Oh no. I don't know exactly how Gavin will react to seeing his long lost love. And check your tea whenever Raiha hands it to you. She has a thing for paralysis drugs.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="darkorchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I vote for free verse, creative stream of consciousness, and then iambic pentameter. Haiku are overdone.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]You're cute when you're mad Roxie. But if you can't grasp tongue in cheek humor then I really wonder why I even- The sake of the image search was just to say that there ARE girls who do the style AND are provocative and hyper sexualized. Directing someone to a wikipedia page doesn't exactly scream academic accuracy by the way. And your claim that gothic lolita isn't provocative is patently hilarious just linguistically. The term 'lolita' denotes a female who is pubescent or adolescent, pre adolescent, who are seductive or sexually attractive. Read the actual book [u]Lolita[/u] to see what I mean. Perhaps another term in your life style's title might be more beneficial and no longer call to mind the obvious 'I AM A YOUNG GIRL THAT'S TRYING TO BE SEXY SO PLEASE SCREW ME' response. [/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Odin M Yggdrasi']Gothic Lolita isn't porn at all though. It's just a reasonably classic and often misunderstood style of clothing. [/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Are you KIDDING me?ARE YOU INSANE?! Just any lowly google search for 'gothic lolita porn' with the SafeSearch off reveals a whole host of deliciously ridiculously Nabokovian results. [URL="http://asianpantypeeks.com/p/moe_outside_blue_dress3.jpg"]http://asianpantypeeks.com/p/moe_outside_blue_dress3.jpg[/URL][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I don't find that obviously Western females are quite as cute in the lolita outfits as obviously asian ones. Call me Retard McSpackypants, but the look was started by asians, and it's only fitting that it makes more sense on asians. Of course I also think wigs are a detestable fashion trend from the 1600s that should be abolished. You know, like slavery and opium were. And then there's the propensity of such gothic lolitas to cater to pedophiles with things for cute frilly tea party going chicks. I think trying to look obscenely younger than you are is a vague invitation for trouble. Unless you're doing it at a con. Where it makes sense. Oh yes, and the fear of gothicism being equal to Devil Worship is rather moronic, if only because the word gothic springs from a form of architecture most commonly found in ...ah...oh...erum...churches? Just remind people when they start mouthing off about how you're one of them Deeeeeevil worshipers. But I digress. Either way, it's not like I've never done the fluffy skirt thing with the fishnets and high heels, but then again, I have slightly exotic features being half Chinese. On the other hand, I have to say, the miniature hat thing isn't so cool. I find the little top hats rather ridiculous, when there are so many other cute and adorable head coverings available. I think that while it's fun to play dress up in a manner that most people would find completely insane [see Cosplayers], the lolita part of the situation is vaguely iffy.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]"There Is No Medicine for Angry Fools"[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Nine Inch Nails: Year Zero. It's like a throwback to the days of Star****ers Inc. and Head Like A Hole. And that brings me such joy. The heavy electronic sounds with deep, complex bass lines are also fascinating, now that I have access to my parent's ridiculously expensive sound systems, and as such can now really enjoy the music. .....until they come home and find me rocking out to it.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[i][COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]The plane landed in a hot screech of tires and smoke and haze and hell. Gavin stood as the plane taxied, unfolding his long legs from behind the cramped captain's chair, cursing the idiot that had designed the plane without considering the height of Irish males. Smiling rather sleekly, Crystia and Erica both stood at the same time, perfectly content with the leg room they had enjoyed on the flight, while Chaos slammed the latrine door behind him, relieving his feelings with a few choice curses. While he yammered to himself partially in English and then in Russian, Erica examined the files that she?d been reading on the supposed slave trade currently going wild in Belarus. Gavin looked over her shoulder, which wasn?t difficult, but then again looking over Crystia's shoulder wasn't always that safe.[/i] ?You think we?ll find anything or is this another one of those bloody rumors the policy wanktards dream up after doing too much blow?? ?No no, that was the last mission with the snake charmer and that insane Yogi guy.? ?Could you just ...not ever talk about that again please?? [i]Crystia beat a path towards the exit, unconsciously rubbing the remnants of an old snake bite on her shoulder. Chaos grabbed her bag as well as his own, and Erica?s, stomping towards the door, while Erica leaned over to let Gavin pass, picking up her leather attaché case on the way out. Then she squared her shoulders and headed for the door. The road to the possible location indicated on the map was a cruel joke. A mass of potholes, twisting vines, fallen trees, boulders, rocks, gravel, dust, and every other imaginable inconvenience short of hail. With a handkerchief around her face to prevent choking on the dust, Crystia sat next to Chaos, his hands dwarfing the steering wheel. Considering the press of the forest all around them, she had a vaguely queasy claustrophobic moment, that soon passed. The trip had been hellish in the extreme, the landing strip something that was best forgotten. It wasn?t that she wasn?t made of stern stuff, it was just- Well who knew anyway? Eventually, and by eventually, six hours later, the road tapered off and ended at a gate made mostly of sharpened stakes. A red symbol, crudely painted against the rude gate glared bright in torchlight. A warning for all who cared to see it. The Beast dwelled there. In another place, far removed from the common social mores, the reality of the day, the press and need of flesh and finance, Kenneth stood waiting patiently for the good agents to unpack themselves from their vehicle and enter his domain. The place where the Beast was worshiped, and waited. He passed by Her alter, with a brief moment of worship. His lips pressed to the stone that Her crimson paws rested on. A bifurcated tail curled around Her paws, and a hideous smile even in repose, played about Her thoroughly animalistic features. The horn that stood for her One True Reign, that which Is to come, glittering in the light of the fires, reflecting back the miserable faces of the female flesh slaves that had been collected. In their cages they waited, some with faces streaked starkly wet with tears, others with expressions set in concrete. Kenneth passed by them all, ignorant of their suffering, or perhaps uncaring. It would be safe to say that little escaped him. Gavin was the first to enter the gates, which had been opened wide enough for one person to come through at a time. Erica behind him, then Chaos, and then the gate was closed behind them. Crystia waited behind, her earpiece a dead weight in her ear, listening to everything that went on through the identical piece in Gavin?s. All felt the prickle on their necks, the quiet warning of the danger that smiled into their faces and shook their hands and said pleasant greetings.[/i] ?Welcome to the home of the Beast. You were sent by an interfering international task force of some kind, yes?? ?Interpol. We heard you were trafficking in slaves.? ?I suppose it?s not really trafficking if they don?t go any further than here. The girls are for the Awakening, when the new moon rises invisible in the sky. The Beast, She Who Consumes, will arise from Her slumber and partake of the human flesh we?ve amassed for Her.? ?That seems...rather unethical. Cruel. A violation of any number of international laws.? ?I have no use for the laws of mankind. Only the worship of She, the Beast who Sleeps, holds any true merit to me.? [i]In the back of the Jeep, Crystia frantically transcripted the entire exchange, and sent it through the satellite uplink to their superiors, moments before Kenneth jammed the frequencies, captured them all, and penned them near the already captive females. As Chaos and Gavin both struggled uselessly against their bonds, Kenneth strolled past their cages with his daughter close behind.[/i] ?Even if the men will make a meager offering, it?s better to have them for Her than withholding.? ?Agreed Father. It?ll be so wonderful to see Her when She awakens.? [i]Kenneth patted his daughter?s cheek almost absentmindedly, Roxie walking after him like a dog follows its master. And as the wire went berserk with the last transmission Crystia sent, the troops that had been on standby were immediately deployed. The operation was going to be a horror show. Everyone knew it. Slaves in cages, a madman with a cult following. Jonestown, but instead of a jungle, a forest. Instead of Guyana, Belarus. Who cared anyway? Only thing to do was to take down everyone that was there to raise a hand against them. Russians, Belarusians, it didn?t matter anyway. And when their Humvees pulled up to the gate, saw the fortified, if ill equipped cultists, the cages, they knew what would happen. Saw the bloody aftermath. The cultists had already gathered around the altar of the Beast, already raised their weapons in defense of their glorious leader. And everything happened just as some had predicted. Some slaves died in crossfire, many cultists fell, with Roxie crouching just behind Kenneth, fear written in her face. The team, Gavin, Crystia, Chaos, Erica, all were reclaimed and dragged behind the wall. But as the well trained military forces swept around the cultists, Kenneth stood and drew the ritual blade made of obsidian. The stone of fire and darkness flashed brilliantly in the firelight, and pulling Roxie close to him, held by her hair, he drew the edge along the perfect flesh of her throat.[/i] ?Awaken! She Who Consumes! The Beast! Come forth and bless those who are faithful to thee!? [i]Darkness swelled around the alter, obscuring the form of the slumbering Beast. Then, it swirled, coalesced, and under the light of a million stars, and the lesser light of fire, eyes filled with disdain and scorn snapped wide open. The troops that were falling upon the cultists who had survived thus far fell back as the Beast stretched once, languidly almost, and then bent her head down and snapped off the surprised face of her most loyal worshiper. Roxie, her torn throat glimmering in the light, soon became the next meal for the creature she had devoted her short life to. While the Beast consumed those that had been faithful to Her, just as Kenneth had asked for, the troops turned tail and ran shamelessly. As She called down fire, consuming the land around Her, throat glistening and pulsing with life, horn quivering as She speared each girl still yet living, Gavin shouted orders, while the others swarmed into their trucks. As they focused on putting as much distance between them and the horror that lay close behind, their rear view mirrors lit up, as brightly as if it had been day. She Who Consumes roared aloud, once, twice, three times, and then fell silent.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Publicity is a useless facet of a society in decline. Just as a premium on physical beauty denotes a society about to go the way of the Holy Roman Empire... I find that publicity corrupts people who were once good, just as power does. Since it all boils down to pretty much the same thing. It might be good when it's focused on a charitable organization, or calling attention to a serious issue, but it's rarely the case. BAD.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='James'][font=franklin gothic medium]Sorry for my lack of posting this week, everyone. I've been sick and I'm just starting to recover.[/font][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Ah, must be something capable of continent jumping, because I've been chilling outside of Death's Door for the past couple of days. But since I can't think of anything while I'm hopped up on enough medication to sink the entire MediCare system....[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Back from the dead. Sort of. Oh not really. Whenever I'm not around online for several days it's safe to assume that I'm dying or close to death. And since I wasn't online for almost three days...I was dead. Thanks for caring everyone. But I come back and nothing's happened, so beh. Fire missiles! I'll just yawn my way into the next chapter.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Shy'][size=1]I highly doubt it, given Charles' recent disappearance, and the enormous headache it was to run in the first place. Of course, if you've been around OB as long as I have you know that anything is possible, given enough time. Hm. -Shy[/size][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]And enough alcohol. And desire to flatly ignore the rules. And cocaine too. The blow's important. And the ability to unban people that were better off being banned.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I'm friends with a [strike]defective Catholic[/strike] Episcopalian... But essentially it boils down to the same thing. The Four Square Denomination of the Christian Church is pretty chill though. We'll sing special songs, read particular verses from the Bible, and then break and pray and THEN eat like there's going to be a famine. It's a potluck at an Asian church, so you can bet your bionic implants that there will be food and then more food and then we'll drown in food. I was just making ham with my mom and shopping for dinner rolls the size of your face. If you're a baby. So food. Religion. Food. Religion. And then food again.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"] She saw me first across an empty hallway, in an empty building. We were where we shouldn’t have been, Always with where we shouldn’t have been, going where we shouldn’t have gone. But it didn’t matter to her and it wouldn’t matter to me because, We know where they all end up, Stay or go, everyone ends and all songs fall still while all words stop writing themselves on the pages of we. Annie? Why did you come here of all places in the quieting dark and solitude of empty dreams and hopeless feeling? [b]Raiha? I thought you had never left that place we both grew into and out of.[/b] Some things you never grow out of and some things you never forget and some things you can’t leave behind. Everything goes with you if you take the time to care. So now that you’ve stopped caring, I’d like you to come with me and we’ll both go home. [b]Can’t go home now, can’t turn back, I have a life now that has nothing to do with this, Or that, or shrieking fanboys, or badly done stories, or the petty arguments and drama.[/b] The drama wasn’t so bad was it? [b]Wasn’t it? Why do you think I’m not there being poorly taken in and poorly-[/b] Stop that. Stop it. I think you just wanted to try and leave it behind. But if you can’t really leave it well enough alone- Then why are you here? [b]It’s not what you think it is. Nothing ever was. You were always wrong about things. Always prancing around with your attitude. Always thinking you were everything. Always with the sex. The blood. The ego. You always had too much pride.[/b] I didn’t come here to be dressed down by you. Hell I deserve half of that. But only half. And as for the rest of it? Not a chance. Not at all. You bitch. Hypocritical. Hypocritical of you to say that to my face after going. And that was the end of it. The end of all things that we’d thought we’d have. Maybe somewhere inside me there was a sadness at this true death, A loss that would finish off whatever I’d wanted to keep close to my inner heart, My thought within thoughts, [b]I'm sorry I did that to you Raiha. I'm sorry I couldn't stop. I'm sorry things fell.[/b] I'm sorry I did everything the way I did. Part of me knows the wrong. Part of me doesn't mind the wrong. This perhaps I could mind. Drifting, fading, rising, turning, flickering, glittering, growing, closing, freezing, empty night. Lonely fear. Were those footsteps or just the blood leaving my brain? I thought about it, considered it, even held what breath I had left in me. Not footsteps. Not anybody. Just Annie flopped uselessly on the ground next to me. Sightless eyes and lusterless hair broken beauty on the ground. Once been, once were, but now gone, now dead, all dead, all faded away. All songs fall silent in the end, and I’d talk more, but my time here? It’s not worth sticking around for. I killed for what I’d carried with me in the thoughts and quiet solitude of the one place, I never left behind. [i]It burns in the corners of the eyes, tickles the nose and prickles until you sneeze, Inner vision reveals the blood pooled for hours. Nobody saw what happened that night. Not until the next morning light, when it glowed angry red, scattered in the atmosphere, Did two boys that had never truly gone away, find the two girls that were beyond the reach of all things. Living that day down, Became the one sole purpose in their lives.[/i] [b]Sofort[/b][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I disagree with bad spelling. But whatever. I think personal responsibility is the issue here. If parents can't educate their children on smoking, then why should the government have to do it for them? Let the people smoke, let them drink, let them have extramarrital sex. Just remember, it's not the responsibility of the policy wonks to do this sort of thing. But they sure wish it was.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Jesus Christ people. Haven't you ever heard of PMs? I mean it's not that I don't appreciate your insanity and blathering and defense and then offense. But for the love of GOD, just let me do what I do best, which is to say take all of your complaints and throw them into a gigantic fire. I had every intention of taking Moyaku's request, which is sure going to make you all look stupid if you're in the 'She won't do it' camp. Oh yes, and as a personal favor to me. Someone please put Allamorph in boxing gloves chained to the floor. And next time, save the grandstanding and pontification for a private message. If anyone posts anything remotely related to this 'she won't do it' issue again, I will tell you all to fuck right off.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Allamorph'][FONT=Arial]Oh, [I]I'm[/I] sorry, Raiha. But didn't I hear you say once upon a time that you'd do [I]anything?[/I] That you couldn't afford to be [I]stuffy?[/I] You were excused with the one involving [COLOR="DarkRed"]A_M[/COLOR]; it would have been tasteless, and too many people would have crucified you afterwards. But this is nothing so ... problematic. Time to hit the books, I think, milady. You got yourself a request to fill.[/FONT][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Jesus, do you want this to suck or what? As we all know, the last time I actually studied tactics was when I was getting my head shot off playing some...FPS...some...where. And besides, considering the pending requests, it's not stuffiness. It's more a desire to NOT SUCK.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Oh dear god you've got to be kidding me. Do I look like I DO Mechas? DO I?! *hysterics*[/FONT][/COLOR]

[i][COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]The wind howled through abandoned buildings, rooms burned out, charred around the edges. Glass crackled under their feet. Aber and Allamorph stood in the Cultural District, watching the frayed power lines swaying chaotically, looking behind them at the Hall of Records. The once proud building had fallen into total disrepair, crumbling marble and carved stone. The statues of heroes were cracked and fallen, stained with old blood and ichor. Just how they?d avoided the destruction, they didn?t even know. And Allamorph leaned casually on the walking cane he?d picked up outside the Theater. Aber looked around nervously, no sound but the wind and their own breathing. His voice didn?t quite echo, but was instead swallowed up by the vast emptiness, the terrible quiet of Otaku City herself.[/i] ?Do you really think there?s nobody else here?? ?No. Some made it. I can?t believe we were the only ones.? [i]Allamorph rested his legs, leaning against one of the swiftly decaying walls, while Aber nervously ran his left hand across the knuckles of his right, and looked over his shoulder constantly. The vial of rock salt in his pocket felt heavy all of a sudden. It had been sitting innocuously and innocently on the corner of Convention Blvd. and James Way, propped up against a wall plastered with posters of the latest Otakuboards movie, ?The Almagest Legacy.? On the cover, Raiha in an elegant red hand stood surrounded by an older looking version of James and Shy, with Gavin and Crystia standing close by. Allamorph watched Aber pace back and forth. He felt the old oak of the cane, the grain smooth under his fingers. A shudder in a corner, a back alley, and he turned. A small black and grey kitten burst from the darkness, her eyes glowing gold in the moonlight.[/i] ?Jesus!? ?...it?s just a cat Aber. Relax.? ?What?s it doing here? Everything else beat a path out of here. After the bombings and the war?? ?No, not everyone.? [i]As soon as the words left his mouth he felt instant regret and felt immeasurably old. Another movement in the alley from where the kitten had fled and he gripped the handle of his cane so hard he felt the wood creak under his fingers. Eye shine, that should?ve belonged to an animal, but instead belonged to the face of Ken. With lurching, almost cautious steps, the thing that looked like Ken but couldn?t possibly have been, jerked towards the two living. Aber?s face drained of all color, and he gripped the small glass container in his pocket. Allamorph raised his cane off the ground a few inches and leaned forward just slightly. Expectation played over his face, when Ken went from a shambling grotesquery to a leaping, howling monster, his jaws unhinging to extend well beyond the normal range of movement for a human. The display of fangs and snaggled molars was about as terrifying as the hectic red flush across his torn and shredded skin, loosely hanging off his body like a badly tattered sheet.[/i] ?Fuck! What the fuck happened to him?!?? ?Keep it together.? [i]Feeling less confident than he felt, Allamorph heard movement behind him as well, the sound of dragging feet on Theater Drive. Raiha, her face distorted by huge fangs, Crystia, just behind her, reaching out with deformed, teratoid claws. Others behind the two, once beautiful things, coming closer all the while. Gavin leapt down from an impossibly tall building, his legs back jointed like a lions, followed by Charles and Revelation, coming closer all the while. Aber had one fleeting wish that he hadn?t come back to the place he had once called home so empty handed, and Allamorph sighed. The glowing eyes of former humans surrounded them, Raiha picking up speed, leaping across a huge hole in the asphalt. She ran faster now, and snatched up Aber in her claws, sinking her massive teeth straight into his chest. He screamed once, twice, then gurgled, while blood ran down Raiha?s face. Crystia tore at his back, exposed flesh peeling from the white of his spinal cord. Allamorph died without a sound, while the monsters around him tore at his skin, shredding it, pulling on his hair, tearing from his head. The sounds of bones snapping, crunching, the sucking of marrow. Pure raw animalistic energy, pouring off the masses, surrounding them, driving them into a blood frenzy. Some turning to strike against each other in their excitement. When they finally drifted away with the advent of the sun, nothing remained, but a cane, a vial of rock salt. They rested there, surrounded by stains of old blood, licked by jagged rough tongues until just the barest, faintest marks remained.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Lunox'][font=trebuchet ms] I find it more sad that Larry Craig is still a US Senator.[/font][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]The only problem with that is that he was only found to have a particularly wide stance in a men's restroom. Nobody ever found him with his pants around his ankles and a page bent over the table in front of him. Cough. There's the fact that he's homosexual, or at least roundly accused of being gay anyway, but he's not running for re-election this year so why the long face? At least he wasn't actually indicted as a co conspirator in a prostitution ring. Look at the bigger picture here. And no. You will never find an honest politician ever. But before you freak out about the new governor, remember that while he cheated on his wife, she cheated on him. Two way street there. She wasn't staying home and weeping over her knitting, as far as I can see, she was out getting revenge sex of her own. Which is definitely what you should do if given half a chance. Oh yes. What does he being legally blind have to do with anything?[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]?Got the shopping list yet for me?? ?Come back around lunch time. I?ll have it by then.? [i]Andrew sucked down the juice he?d poured for himself and then was out the door, grabbing his pack on the way out. Kiwi looked at his retreating back and sucked on the side of her hand thoughtfully, Kiwi bounced in her chair dangling from the kitchen door, while I paged through some of the latest advertisements at the local grocery stores. She compiled a staggering list of items and dry goods to pack the larder and refrigerator with. You would think the double sized plus the one in the garage would?ve been enough but oh no. Not with everyone appearing for dinner every single night. Why they couldn?t just cook for themselves she?d never know, but at least they did the dishes for her. The one consolation of it all. The kitchen was neat. Relatively anyway. Granted Kiwi?s things were everywhere, but why split hairs. I began to pair socks and fold shirts, my son?s things permanently grass stained or slightly charred from ki fights. Conversely, Sevara did all of her own laundry, which was increasingly difficult to find. I didn?t try to pry though. I?d always worn what I wanted, and she didn?t wear things too revealing. Her capacity to hide her Siyannan tattoos wasn?t quite as developed as it had been when I was 17. Then again she also had a good dollop of Saiya-jin blood that gave her some impulse control issues. We were working on that. She?d accidentally incinerated a few bushes before I?d managed to teach her a meditation exercise that Vicky and I had hammered out for the good of the ferals and Saiya-jins alike. Crystia leaned over and nudged the laundry basket, as it slowly filled with shirts, shorts, socks, underwear, and everything in between. I set down the final pair of socks and she immediately picked it up, her tail flaring out behind her for balance, headed up to Billy?s room.[/i] ?Thanks Crystia. Afterwards come back down and I?ll have the towels ready.? [i]I stood even as she twitched her tail at me in response and began snapping out the towels for the entire family. One after the other, folded neatly over themselves, then the sheets. The pillow cases, the blankets, everything that Kiwi was using. Mattress covers, pillow covers, slip covers, chair covers, until the linens were piled up in three separate sections on the kitchen table. Kiwi gurgled happily to herself, and picked up a steel rattle that Neil had welded for her 6 month old celebration. She shook it over her head, the ball bearings inside rattling with as much intensity as she could muster. I beat a hasty retreat to the living room, picking up the jackets that had been flung all over.[/i] ?I swear, next year...I am going to be so happy. College for the twins, and just Kiwi.? [i]As soon as I muttered it to myself, part of me felt guilty. Pre-empty nest syndrome? Maybe. I hung up the last of the jackets and turned towards the kitchen, the two pages of the grocery list clipped together and I stuck it in the basket stuck to the side of the fridge. Absentmindedly, I filled a watering can and began to take care of the houseplants. Orchids and herbs and freesias bloomed and branched out with all the power they could muster. They should anyway, the presence of Crystia in the house always gave a boost to all things arboreal for some reason. I wasn?t trying to understand it. Never could explain it anyway. Andrew swung by within the hour to pick up the list and finish it off before delivering the full load of groceries from the back of his truck. I laid Kiwi down for her nap on clean sheets, her stuffed starfish clutched under one arm and gave a longing glance to my own freshly made bed. Crystia padded down the hallways on all fours to rub against my ankles, and I ruffled her ears almost absentmindedly. Her eyes nearly shut as I rubbed the space just behind her neck. She mewled once or twice, and then slid down the banister towards the kitchen where I?d set out a glass of milk for her. Domestic tranquility reigned for just a few minutes, in the lull between when the groceries would be delivered, and Sevara and Billy would come flying in through the upper windows. Then the downstairs would be awash with school books, papers, and all manner of paraphernalia that would make relaxation impossible. Lulled by the impossible, I took a few steps towards the bed, grabbed up the comforter and crashed face first into bed, waiting for Kiwi?s inevitable howl to wake me. I was dimly aware of Crystia appearing, having drunk her milk and gone all drowsy on me, curling up around my feet. She fell asleep almost immediately, and, comforted by her presence and calm, I slept too. When Crystia was relaxed, it was a pretty good bet that I could relax too. And inert, limp as a dishrag, I slept until the sounds of my children coming home crashed through my brain. Kiwi, also awakened by the sound began to scream, partially out of complaint, partially out of surprise. Crystia was up like a shot, off to Billy?s room to say hello, and I stood, running my fingers through slightly messy hair, to pick up Kiwi. She reached up chubby arms for me and I swung her up to my shoulder, Sevara coming down the hallway.[/i] ?How was school honey?? ?Billy got into a fight again. I had to zap him one between the eyes. He missed Calculus because he was out cold in the guy?s bathroom where I told him to crash.? ?You know you can?t keep doing that. He?ll fail his classes.? ?Bah, he brings it on himself. You?d do it too.? [i]I sighed and headed towards Billy?s room, knowing that Gavin would hit the roof when he came home to find that his son had been brawling at school. Again.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[i][COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]The Queen of Hearts purred to herself, running a red handkerchief across her fingers, the flamingoes around her throne prancing in lock step with one another, the sound of wailing and faint screams. Suddenly bored, she flicked a perfectly manicured finger, with a wickedly pointed nail towards the footman at her knee. Her voice was low and cultured, fine breeding emanating from every pore.[/i] ?Bring them out.? ?Of course Your Majesty.? ?All of them.? [i]She put just the right amount of emphasis on the word ?all? to make the footman wince inwardly. Whenever she asked to see all of her newest flesh slaves, it always meant an orgy of violence and mayhem and then blood and death. He had avoided it thus far, but the poor things about to be shown to her were doomed to a horrifying death at the hands of the country?s most sinister ruler since Alice had left. The White Rabbit nodded and rocked in a corner, venerable and ancient, oblivious to the suffering around him. A tall, leggy Cheshire cat curled herself around one of the thin marble pillars, impossible for anything but decoration. Dark orange fur, beautiful glowing green eyes, she smiled her elegant smile, fangs so long they curled down to her lower lips. Beautiful people lounged around the Queen?s court, dozens of sylphs alighted on every flat surface. Several tengu kept their black wings folded tightly across their backs while they perched in corners, and on the window coverings. There were even several Outsiders mingling with the crowd, throwing forth the scents of death and fear like so much perfume. White roses mixed with red bloomed all around, with the occasional black tainting the ones closest to it. There was the clanking of chains, the clink of manacles, and then everyone felt the culminations of despair and months of imprisonment heavy on their thoughts. Six beautiful females and four males, chained to one another with a running line rose up from the floor. They crouched on the cold, polished surfaces, no traces of old blood remained, only the lingering thoughts of the dead.[/i] ?Bow to your Queen. The Queen of Hearts. The Red Lady.? [i]Those who were able to stand struggled to their knees to knock their heads to the floor in submission. One girl was too overcome, and lay still and quiet against the stone, occasional harsh intakes of breath fluttering in her throat. The footman grimaced. She would be the first. She was Eriju. The little tiny one with the almond shaped eyes, the dark glossy hair. She?d cried so prettily at first, before the dark garden in her mind had flourished and taken over, nurtured by the hysteria and panic around her. Instead of fighting it like the others, she?d given in. Surrendered without question.[/i] ?Bring that little one to me.? [i]The Queen whipped her fingers in the girl?s direction, and as if borne by dozens of unseen hands, Eriju drifted along, her feet barely dragging the floor, and came to rest at her feet. Her head lolled to one side, and her dark eyes stared all unseeing. Reaching out one hand, the Queen of Hearts slowly touched the alabaster flesh of her first flesh slave, as she writhed under her touch, supported by invisible hands. Eriju?s eyes fluttered once, twice, and the Queen snapped her fingers almost casually. The Outsiders in the crowd stiffened slightly, and then immediately relaxed as her life poured from her body. Sucking up her essence, even as Eriju?s corpse fell to the floor, the Red Lady licked her lips with intense pleasure. Tastes stimulated, the Queen stood, her silken gown slithering around her skin, as she walked down the steps to the slaves, sprawled over the floor of her throne room.[/i] ?Hold up the next one.? [i]Another girl, this one a brunette with perfectly round blue eyes stared upwards in terror, then shut again as if in sleep. The killing went on, the Queen walking among her flesh slaves, who raised neither hand nor fist against her, until she came to the final one. The hands held a dark skinned boy, tall and slender from his imprisonment. He flung out his limbs with all the strength he could muster, his anger flashing in his eyes, now that she was close enough to touch him. She raised a hand in surprise, and a ripple of muttering spread through the crowd. It had been years since someone defied the queen. Not since Alice. Not since that trial.[/i] ?Why do you struggle against me boy?? ?You?re wrong to kill us. Just so you can take what doesn?t belong to you. You?re not a Queen. You?re a thief. A monster.? ?All that dwells in my kingdom belongs to me. You belong to me. And your heart... is mine.? [i]Her hand flashed out, faster than the eye could follow, and jerked into his chest, squeezing his heart between her fingers, before ripping it and slammed it down on the white marble, the splatter covering every surface. The boy spasmed, and twitched, and jerked desperately then died. His arms bent upwards and the hands slowly returned him to the ground.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]Eiyaga flicked her hair from over her eye, smiling slightly just to herself. The last person that she'd jumped and successfully used to end her curse had fainted dead away at the sight of her face. Not so flattering. In fact, a real afterglow killer. She shook her head just barely enough for Andras to notice movement and she favored him with a faint smile.[/i] "Well of course I like you. You were able to help me. You and that nice smelling girl." "So you remember her?" "I remember trying to kiss her, and when she knocked me over." "Wait. Nice smelling? What did she smell like to you?" [i]Eiyaga paused thoughtfully, musing to herself very slowly, so slowly Andras thought she'd forgotten. Instead, she was pulling back that particular scent memory from her thoughts. Like any wolf, she could pick out one among hundreds of thousands, it just took a little while to come back to it when the sample wasn't right in front of her, giving off their own particular odor. Feeling of standing in a sunny kitchen, light slanting through the window, warm dust... And a slow, almost child like smile spread over Eiyaga's features.[/i] "Like sunshine in a kitchen. A feeling of heat and light, the kind that warms you. Not like a roaring fire, but like being a really sunny room. You know?" "I think so." [i]Andras nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Now Eiyaga was slowly rubbing her fingers against her right temple, the only other place on her body where he could see a single scar. Weird enough for her though. Why would a hyper healing female have any lasting marks on her besides the obvious eye. She must have picked up his question, merely by watching his face and the way he was tapping his feet and thumbs.[/i] "Dani gave it to me. I don't heal so good when it's a would from my own kind." "No shit. So if I started zapping you like crazy you'd get all scarred and burned?" "Probably. Let's not find out. I would hate to have to jump you all over again." [i]Mischief smirked in her features and she looked up at him with a mock-injured expression on her face, a mirror of his own. She cocked one hip and raised a shoulder as she tilted her head so girlishly he could've sworn her lower lip was sticking out just a little. He looked slightly poutish and crossed his arms over his chest.[/i] "You'd hate it eh? I seem to recall you all over me, rubbing...kissing...out of control really..." [i]Eiyaga flashed a look of fake fury at him and crossed her own arms over her chest, stamping one foot, which was incredible considering that she was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. He smirked at her indignant expression and leaned over a little, reaching for her face, a light tendril of energy sparking from his fingers. It lanced over her cheek, producing a tickling sensation that she pretended to swat away before, grabbing his wrist and inhaling the growing smell of thunder, burned ozone, going straight to her head. Andras smiled inwardly as he watched her pupil instantly dilate at the scent he was giving off.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Gurgh...don't mock me woman! *runs from the room weeping* ......yeah, it would figure that my monthly cycle would synch up with my birthday. Because it just would be my special day without my special friend. Good god someone beat me with a sock full of quarters until this annoyance is replaced by a desire to murder you instead. And I figure I shouldn't post until there's something meaningful happening underground.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I have yet to get a single violation aside from a $20 parking ticket for not being faced in the stall properly. My god that was such a load of- But other than that, no speeding tickets, probably because my car begins to go insane if it goes over 85 miles an hour anyway and thus, I keep it around 80. No parking tickets even though I've made mistakes every now and then that were innocent enough. And while there is cell phone legislation in the county I'm in, I have yet to get pulled over, as I usually do most of my cell phone chatting late at night when I'm trying desperately to stay awake on a dark highway. But that's the whole trouble with California. The long LONG stretches of highway between counties makes driving to visit old college friends a 2 hour trip in one direction. And if you don't wear your seatbelt in California, they slap you in the face REALLY hard with their riding gloves and then drop the national debt in your lap in the form of a ticket you'll have to mortgage your house six times to pay off. Needless to say there is never a passenger in my car without a seatbelt on. And if they refuse, the car stays stubbornly still. It's like magic![/FONT][/COLOR]