Raiha

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]OOC: ....what was he thinking when he let you into this rpg? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "....Hanger.......49? Oh Christ, I really am lost." "Lost Ma'am?" "Private. Please direct me to Hanger 13 please." [i]After taking several wrong turns due to bad directions from that insipid twit of a private, or her lack of sleep taking over completely, she noticed an eclectic group of people waiting by the hanger, which the sign noted as number 13. And she hiked up hers skirts with the left hand and ran, thankful that she had the presence of mind to wear combat boots. And they complimented the skirt and blouse quite well. Also went with the hat. Either way she came to a screeching halt in front of who she knew presicely to be her one and only Captain. She dropped the breifcase she had been carrying with her right hand and stiffened to salute. He nodded and waited patiently. She spoke, slightly out of breath.[/i] "Captain Chubbs sir. Sorry I'm late. The private down the hall is directionally impaired. And, sadly, so am I." "Noted." [i]She picked up her breifcase and shook her head, feeling embarassed and angry with the world in general.[/i] "I hate my life."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlenn was not shocked at the sight of blood, she had witnessed death before, and tended to several bad wounds in her time. The man looked in pain, and she was quick about her remedies. With the flat of her palm, she drove her hand directly into his wounded shoulder, stopping the blood in a matter of mnutes. He nearly screamed at the sudden pain, but she merely held him still with a strength he didn't know existed within her delicate frame.[/i] "Hold still sir. This will take some fixing." ".....thank you." "Quite the contrary. I owe you quite a bit for your actions earlier today." "It was nothing." [i]He was about to shrug, when he looked at his shoulder and thought better of it. she smiled and took her hand away. It was around this time when he noticed that her hair had rooted itself firmly into the ground. Caden gasped, then saw it revert to normal hair and a piece of the ground open up. She dipped her blood stained hand in the pool of water she'd just revealed and rubbed the blood away with a clean kercheif. Then she leaned forward, holding his normal shoulder with her left hand. He blinked in surprise. She had brought her lips down to his shoulder and was closing the broken skin, mending the wound with her mouth. It was around this point that he realized the pain had gone away. And he was left with an extremely pleasant tingling feeling in his shoulder. She drew her lips away and bandadged his wound with a strip of cloth torn from her petticoat.[/i] "Feeling better?" "As good as ...new. How did you do that?" [i]Her grin was mischevious.[/i] "Magic."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlenn was surprised that the Bo carrying man had paused to defend her honor, and was even more surprised when he left without another word. The lady in charge smiled and helped her pack up the remaining goods, to be sold at another date. The chest was sealed with a handmade lock, unbreakable exept by dark sorcery, and stowed away for the evening. The women at the booth had set up their own tent and willingly welcomed the child of Camellia with open arms. She smiled on them all and took her place in the far corner of the tent, most junior to every woman present except for the nursing babies. Her grace while kneeling was apparent, and her gestures and movements spoke of a hidden talent of sorts, but the women surrounding her merely passed the plates of food cheerfully and said nothing about it. Camellia had been one of the best, it was necessary that her daughter be held to the same high standards. The youngest woman present stood at a later hour, when the eating was finished and everyone had laid down for the night. She didn't find herself tired. Instead, she was curious as to where she was. It was a warm evening, bright stars, gentle breeze, and the sounds of humans and animals attracting her attention. With a gentle brush of her hands, she placed her skirt in place and opened the tent flap. Then, with delicate footsteps, she made her way through the groups of tents, taking in everything quietly.[/i] ~~~~~~~ This is the part where I am found by someone.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlen Arboreal recieved the e-mail, and stood to leave. She had time enough to get home, pack, and then perhaps bring a few coat hangers as well... The willow wand of a lady straightened her dress, took her hat from the wall and picked up all her files and left her desk immaculate. She prided herself on having any available surface around her clean enough to eat off of. . .....aside from very obvious impossible ones. She walked outside, hailed a taxi with her briefcase and got in.[/i] "248 Tara Court. Quickly please." [i]The cab driver opened his mouth to protest when she shoved a credit card into his hand. He looked at it, then floored the gas pedal. Avlen settled back and wrote down a mental list of things to bring. ...both dresses, tan and pink, shoes, boots, trench coat, uniform...of course, black lingerie, corset, ....hmmm, all my files are here...books, white board, pens, headset....and probably a few pills. She smiled to herself and exited the cab, thanking the driver for his expediency. Then she entered her apartment and enetered a brand new recording on her phone.[/i] "Gone skyfishing. Leave a message for me to get back to in a few years. That is if this place still stands by then. I love you all, Avlen saying goodbye." [i]Witbout further ado, she packed her old military tote and stuffed her files into a more durable metal case. Lastly, she included her dresses, rolled and snaped shut into separate cylinders. It wasn't like her to forget such things. Standing before her full length closet mirrors, she pulled on the required lingerie, laced up the boots, added the longish black jacket, and pulled the tote over one shoulder. Then she turned to leave when she saw something in the mirror that wasn't there before. Little girl looking up at her with huge red eyes. ....saying please take me home. Help me find my home..... Avlen stepped closer to the mirror, touching the surface, when the little girl screamed, audibly to Avlen's sensitive ears, and transformed into a hideous displaly of fangs, bones, and flesh. The communication's specialist didn't turn a hair, but took a step back. Then she rushed from her one time home and slammed the door behind her.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Rena smirked to herself, playing with her tail, and inspecting her already iron sharp claws for any sorts of chips or cuts. Crystal preened quietly, while Grim eyed the two girls with a wary eye. They were far too relaxed for anything useful. But perhaps there was a reason.[/i] "Rena. Why are you so calm?" "....Ben'll make it. I've known him long enough to be aware of his skills." "Such confidence. ....the way of the feline." "You bet your ass." [i]She yawned and stretched, showing all claws, all teeth, and the prickling guard hairs of her fur. Crystal laughed at her, and stretched her wings as well, yawning in that oh-so-infectious way.[/i] "How long have you two been working together?" [i]Rena and Crystal exchanged a slightly bemused glance.[/i] "Two days?" "Or is it three?" "We sort of lost track of time. What with all the-" "Killing, and plundering, and uh- ..." "Massacring!" [i]Grim settled back, crossing his arms.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]When Avlenn arrived to take her place at the embroidery booths, she found the women in charge had left her an open space. They welcomed her pleasantly, speaking kind things about her mother, Camellia, and saying how nice it was that her daughter had honored them with her presence. Avlenn Arboreal smiled pleasantly on everyone that gazed upon her and opened the chest of needlework.[/i] "Those are lovely....especially the piece showing our valley here..." [i]Avlenn smiled at the woman and held it up to the light to show the bright green and gold threads interwoven. While she did, people slowed to take a closer look. Those that passed saw her folding dresses and tunics of every sort, emblazoned with symbols of trees, mountains, and wild creatures. Such garments were rare to come across, and she knew that someone would be bound to be interested in her mother's works. While she was an excellent needleworker, her daughter had merely inherited the skill to choose plant dyes and change the colors of threads and wool. Some of the newest pieces were done out of Avlenn's own dyeing threads. She smiled ant the thought and sat down on the now empty chest, the pony that had done all the hauling reposing with his nose in a patch of clover in the corals. Avlenn smoothed down the corners of her dress and adjusted the corset beneath her bodice when a rather wild looking group of young men sauntered by. The woman who had reserved her a space stood next to Avlenn and gently nudged her underneath the table with her foot, a warning to be silent. The leader of the group, sporting stylish clothing and a bright sword leaned down to get a closer look at Avlenn's face. She didn't make his job any easier, and kept her eyes lowered demurely.[/i] "Who's this?" "....the daughter of Camellia Arboreal. You have no buisness with her unless you seek to buy some of her mother's handiwork." [i]Avlenn stared at her hands and said nothing, although she was slightly embarassed at the treatment she was recieving. In Tracy, the men that spoke to her did so with respect, because everyone knew she was not the average lass looking for a husband. ...but here was a man, or boy, speaking to her like she was a good to be sold.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]When Avlenn Arboreal finally came home after unhitching the pony cart, her father was sitting at the table, one hand resting around his tea cup, the other on his knee. When she had washed her hans and tied back her unusually thick auburn hair, she entered the two room house and sat down at the table. There she sipped her tea quietly, inhaling the scentes of valerian and chamomile, the evening tea they both drank to soothe their aching muscles and bring relaxation to their overworked bodies. After an hour of a pleasant, and silent, supper and clean up, her father finally spoke.[/i] "This year I want you to go to the Luthen Fair in your mothers place." "Yes father." "...take her embroidery and try to get a good price. We need a Shire for the plowing next year. ...now that I have your cousin's help." "Yes father. I'll do as you ask." [i]He nodded to her obedience and then, for the rest of the evening, not another word passed between them. Such was the way of Avlenn and her father. But it was all well and good. They never became angry, and when they disagreed, it was a long time before one spoke to the other, to give time to consider the truth of the opposition. And in such a way, Avlenn had learned how to deal with the frustrations of life. She went to bed, curled up in the small room above the kitchen, while her father rested in his easy chair by the fire place. Like usual, they were both asleep within minutes of pulling up the thick woolen blankets. The next day, Avlenn rose and prepared a small breakfast for herself, her father already out working. When she was finished, she opened her mother's chest and pulled out all of the clothes she had sewn herself, covered in beautiful colcha stitches. A small smile passed over her lips, and she closed the lid of the chest and dressed in her mother's clothes. Advertisment perhaps. Then she loaded the chest onto the cart, hitched up the faithful pony, and began the ride from Tracy to the fair. ...it would take a day or two...but she would get there. And her father saw her pass by in the fields and smiled to himself. He had gotten lucky, having a daughter like Avlenn.[/i][/COLOR]

[FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=RoyalBlue][i]So there she was, standing to one side of the door when the man came through the door, gun out, knuckles white, hair all tousled and disheveled. She smiled and narrowed one eye. The door to the hallway closed behind him and when he turned to yank it open she charged. Like a striking hawk, Avlen descended, one hand at his throat, the other holding a 44 Magnum to his head. The force of her blow knocked him back into the chair she had expertly placed, and...kindly...bolted to the floor hours earlier. He caught a flash of bare skin before he felt the none too gentle pressure of both her thighs over his legs and the muzzle of her gun kissing his temple. His eyes stared up into hers, catching that wild untamed spirit he had known would come as soon as he heard who he had killed. ...and who she really was. She indicated with her eyes and he dropped the gun to the ground. Its metallic clatter brought him face to face with the cool reality staring him in the eye. Her voice, when it finally cut through his ears into his mind registered as astonishingly soft and cool. Considering she had become the one killer that had refused to lay down and die after weeks of torture and hours of interrogation. She had lost the smooth unbroken lines of her back, but not the curving delicacy of her neck and wrists. And now, her voice was calling him out of the memories and back to her.[/i] "...Cowboy........" [i]she breathed, so gentle and sultry compared to her slightly crazed appearance,[/i]"...I'm not happy about who you chose to kill. So I'm going to kill you and solve my problem of being unhappy." [i]He looked up at her once more. Her voice was flat she spoke, stating the facts so cooly, without turning a hair. And that caused him excitement. But then he remembered she was going to kill him....and that simply heightened his pleasure. Cowboy managed a smirk, even though his entire body was aching, especially his back from the way she had slammed him down. She looked at him through half shut eyes, with her eyebrows curving up pleasantly. Before he voiced any response, not that he had one prepared, she had leaned over and begun licking up his neck until she reached the spot where his jawbone curved down to form the mandible. Once there she began to nibble until he began to squirm underneath her hips. Ever so gently, she nudged his opposite temple with the gun and he sat still again. Then, she laced her legs under his calves and brought one hand to his lips. Cowboy kissed her palm and she smiled at him as gently as a mother caressing a child's face. Then she brought her gun around to the back of his head and slammed it down into the base of his skull. Out like a light, she set the Magnum down and reached for his butcher knife. Once she felt its cool touch in her recently kissed palm, she unsheathed it and placed it across his throat. Then she rose off of him and tied one hand to the back of the chair and both his feet. And time went by. He came around within minutes, and saw her with her back to him, holding his knife in one hand. The Magnum and his Desert Eagle rested side by side, just beyond his reach. Then he saw her pushing away the fabric of jeans and shirt until she was down to bare skin and a delicate curve to her smile. She sank down to her knees, curving her back forward so the results of the torture were completely revealed. In six jagged lines, the force of her punishers were shown. The lacerations were slightly puckered, and at certain points, elongated here and there to resemble arteries, veins, and capillaries. She cupped both hands over her shoulders, hugging herself, then slid around on the balls of her feet to face him.[/i] "You did a good job Cowboy.... .....they never quite healed." [i] Her tone was mocking, but not acusing....and this time he found a reply.[/i] "I pride myself on making things that last." "Did you know you'd be dying tonight?" [i]Avlen smirk was unmistakable now. And for the first time he realized what was happening to him. Things were slightly blurry. His skin felt wet, and ...it felt like it was on fire. He lowered his eyes and saw red dripping from cuts up and down his skin. No inch of it had been overlooked. And while he had been napping she had taken the liberty of removing all of his clothing, thus making her job far easier. Before he could protest, she walked towards him...stradled him once more and kissed him. Roughly, painfully, but not so bad, because she had avoided cutting open his lips...preferring to simply bite through them instead. His free hand cupped her *** to him, pushing into her ever so slowly, before he found the butcher knife resting at his side and drove it up into her gut in one fluid motion. Avlen's mouth opened in shock, rather than pain, and then she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his bloodied neck. He breathed on her skin and she nearly chuckled through gritted teeth.[/i] "...lovers suicide is overrated, don't you think?" [i]Her coy tone amused him. Here they were. Assassin and wild child on the brink of death, and no way to pull back.[/i] "Terribly. ....but....this is more murder, isn't it?" [i] His rough voice soothed her as she let him move in and out of her, before closing her eyes and finally resting her body against his, embracing him as he held her to his chest with one hand.[/i] "Yes. ...come with me...." [i]And he did. When the nurse opened the door hours later, she found herself wading through three inches of blood, covering the floor like the carpet of Satan's throne room. In a final act of mercy, Cowboy had stabbed her through the back, the butcher knife finding its sheath in her heart, and he, drained of blood, had collapsed back, his hand resting over the back of her neck. She screamed, and then blacked out.[/i][/COLOR][/FONT]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Name: Avlen Arboreal Age: 26 Sex: Female Specialty: Communications Specialist Bio: Avlen Arboreal. Ex-Marine. Will work her *** off if promised the reward of a hot shower afterwards. Otherwise you can expect whinning, bitching, moaning, and a great deal of profanity. She likes linen dresses, hats, and foreign languages. Space travel is ho-hum, been there done that, but so far, nothing more exciting than a drunken Russian in a space station. She was born in Los Angeles, and in that City of Angels, she grew to the height of roughly 5'8" and learned enough to qualify for the better communications jobs out there. But for some twisted reason, instead of joining private industries, she elected to take the ASVAB and learn how to kill things...since she already knew how to communicate. The killing led to the talking, which led to the specialty of being a Communications specialist. She's been sent on missions to hostile territories, been expected to live on virtually nothing, and still manage to bring everyone home on the same wavelength. So far, her record is spotless. There have been deaths, there have been accidents, but never any retreats. Avlen, or Avl for short, likes the aforementioned hot showers after every tough mission, and that means...she must be the cleanest Ex-marine that ever retired from active duty and spent the rest of her life working for Verizon Wireless in an offshore division. This is where the foreign language obsession comes in handy. Mind you, she's a dead shot with a rifle, and an expert at using a bayonet, but she's much more excited by clean fresh consoles and the threat of demon seeds being planted in her person. Which is why she's no longer "In" as they say, and has been hired by USAF to work her *** off yet again. And this time, in much more bizarre circumstances. Space is fun.[/COLOR]

[FONT=times][COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Name: Avlenn Arboreal, Avl for short. Gender: Female Age: 26 Appearance: See attachment, note the simple cotton shift, imagine the ears normal, and visualize neutral skin tones and equally neutral eye colors. Most of which come in hazel honey and creamy dusk. In the way of shoes, she's elected to wear half soles, a pad of leather held in place with crisscrossing thongs over the metatarsals and ankles. Skills: Besides having the ability to make her hair completely wooden, which can have its uses, she also can perform a summoning spell that calls on both the particles of spirit energy in air and any flowing underground or above ground water. This "Deepening Call" is a subtle sort of spell, invisible to the human eye, and so far, has remained unused except to help find water for the farming community. So perhaps, I should say that her skill is dousing. When water is found by the spell, her hair will take root and pull up the earth to reveal any hidden water. Otherwise, she is utterly weaponless. Personality: If compassion could be personified, it would find its place in Avlenn. Fortunately, it has been personified, and it does live in Avlenn. She is the woman that sees suffering and seeks to relieve it. Her kindness is unparalleled, as is her ability to make friends. Besides this great philanthropy, Avl is extremely subtle, like her spell, and people don't notice her until they can count the lashes framing her eyes. But even so, her skill for putting people at ease is legendary Biography: She's never given much thought to being heroic at all. And her parents, although casually mentioning it while she was growing up, haven't pressed her for any results. Born in the small farming town of Tracie, Avlenn doesn't seem to be particularly heroic, nor did she act particularly heroic. Unless you call soothing a child's bruised knee heroic. She spent most of her childhood days like most of her adult days. Cleaning the two room hut she was born in, trotting after her father and the plow, caring for the horses, and doing the customary dousing for water. Her mother, may her soul rest in peace, was very kind and gentle, urging her down a path that would certainly lead to the wood in her hair and the water in the earth reacting. This experience happened when she was 6, and has stayed with her ever since. When she was sent on an errand to go fill the jars of the house with water, she obeyed. The creek was nearby and she wasn't a weakling. But, like any six year told, she became sidetracked. She wandered into the fields, following a butterfly, and soon found herself in the forest that grew to the north of Tracie. Soon something peculiar began to happen. Avlenn's hair began to press down the sides of her face, and she sank to her knees, which wasn't very far at the time. Her hair planted itself in the ground, hardening and sprouting leaves. When she tried to stand again, she merely had to breathe slowly, then her hair rose back up to surround her body normally. Each hole made by her hair was filled with water. Amazed, but not excited, Avl went home and quietly mentioned it to her mother. She followed her beloved daughter and watched has her hair took root once more. This time, Avlenn was able to will her hair to pull apart an entire clump of sod, revealing a pool of fresh water. The jars were filled and life continued as normally as could be expected. She went to the school and learned the history of the land, the languages of men, and the political systems of the territory. Tragedy did not strike all at once, and Avlenn knows that tragedy is more of an exaggeration than anything. Mothers die. Everything changes. Nothing is eternal. And she was the one to bathe and wrap her mother's faded body when the disease finally consumed her. When Avl came of age, she took upon herself the mantle of responsibility. After all, who would take care of her besides her father? Now that her mother was cold in the grave...there could be no marriage. As was the custom, the daughter remained with the family when the mother died. Now, Avlenn is an unofficial water witch, and spends most of her time working under her father as he raises the staple products that feed them. There are very few complications. The men of the town know she is not meant for them, and she is completely loyal to her father. He is cold, but kind, and refuses to be afraid of her daughter's bizarre ability. After all, it has kept his farm, and every other farm in Tracie, from succumbing to drought. But this subtle nature of hers refuses to take credit for anything. She merely found water when it was needed, and mentioned it to the extremely close-mouthed people that were responsible for running the aquaducts. This way, she has remained pratically unrecognized in her power to affect the entire wellbeing of Tracie. And, you know, she likes it much better that way.[/COLOR][/FONT]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Consunse popped a salt tab to wake herself up and shaded her eyes out of habbit rather than necessity. Her voice was a low mutter, low enough to reach everyone present with the capacity for speaking the English languae.[/i] "I'll have you know, Captain Planet, that Lorn requested that I join your little pleasure excursion. So go play with your stick." [i]Odysseus opened his mouth to respond with about as much venom as a scorpion when the horses began to move. Consunse smiled softly and squinted.[/i] "Arabian stallions. Really pretty ones too. Purebred I'll be-" "We're doomed." [i]Carlos's facial features might have been deadpan, but his tone of voice had a slight sense of impending...well...doom.[/i] "How cheery of you to think so." [i]Consunse grinned and disarmed herself, handing both guns to Odysseus, who took them with no change in expression. Then she opened her pack and pulled out a bedsheet, stained with blood. Just as the horses were near enough for their riders to be able to see the figures in detail, she pulled it over and covered herself almost completely with it. Eyes barely visible, she stepped back behind both of them and waited patiently.[/i] "Explain this bright idea to me Consunse. Dressing up like a native doesn't seem to be the best idea." [i]She answered him in Arabic, and he quickly closed his mouth. The dust rose from the sand, and Consunse covered her eyes in response. Then the horses were close enough to smell. She called out a greeting and loaded weapons remained loaded.[/i][/COLOR]

[FONT=Palatino Linotype][SIZE=2][center]Friday, July 23, 2004 -Neuvoxraiha- [color=mediumturquoise]Enforced Silence The night is deepening in the darkness, I am all alone in my horrific humanity, The colubrids are crying for their caretaker, Shift your eyes lower to settle on my skin, Lashed with bamboo and broken with blood, The labyrinths are wavering and languishing, All together and all apart in my enforced silence I break. Snapping my mind like a whip, Cracking open along the fontanelles, Reminiscent of the past in which I, The breathing and the laughing and the crying, Was whole and happy and so very young, Young enough to not know what this, This pretty treason and this manipulation could do to me. I am all broken down in this quiet place, While my skin is not whole and my body, Once a door of light, Requests to be listed under another title, That of hatred and suffering and rage, Against the crooked mind that has become, Merely a container of souls and a sad excuse for insanity. Once I wrote me down to sleep, But when the dreams finally began, I did not like the places I drifted to, And when I shut off this technology, That has me bound to this crackling desk, I will not like the place I will drift to, Because it will be soulless and transparent and less than. Something that fades with the slightest touch, Breath that is so dry that nobody can imagine, The feeling of tongue against lips, Feeling the blistering and cracking, That shiver over the festering sores of salvation, All disguised underneath the smile, And within my shell in this shattered world of words and phrases. All together and all apart in my enforced silence I break.[/color] [color=seagreen]Nature is Gone Give me something that is not real, Reality is bad enough as it is, And I am presently intertwined, Between one river and one mountain, Both struggling to pull me, And throw me, And give me, What they can best offer. Vengeance was never a happy place to visit, And most of the time, Believe my lies or believe your head, Because this jilted establishment thinks, That the unintentional always happens, They burn up, They drag down, My seemingly helpless frame. Allow me to illustrate, The world in which I live and breathe, With fanciful phrases, And words and whispers that mean, Absolutely, Nothing, To you, Or your pretty little mind. But it's too late for you, You weren't born as me, So all these words you pass through your eyes, Will drift out your skull, And as shaken as you might be, Realize one thing, You will never, Be like me.[/color] [color=royalblue]Q & A What do you think? I am desperate for an ending, To this dreadful night that expands, And fills my senses with nothing but the feeling, Of being so terribly alone, And so horribly disjointed. Why do you feel when it hurts? Why shouldn't I feel this humanity? It is what keeps me alive, Even when it wants me to die, And when I stop feeling, I stop being. Where will you go now? I will stay where I am, And be the fulfillment of the water, That is my life, And drifting along the milky way, There is a shimmering in my eyes. How can you end it? One drawing of the blade, Over pretty white skin, Would simplify my aching life, But instead of death, Perhaps it is wiser to live and be stronger. What if you simply fade under the strain? Will this life be worth living then? Nobody will remember me, But I will remember them, And that's what will give me meaning, Even if it's simply less than the truth. When will you find the door? If I can shed this mortal manacle, And cover the sheets of steel, With my tattered tears, Why not draw the door in the wall, And open it to the light? If you find the opening, will you enter? Provided I feel worthy, And I am accepted by the brightness, Instead of pushed away, Like so many other feelings, Running past me.[/color] [color=gray]From Me This is the last time, You will read the saddest lines from me, And digest them in your soul, However darker it might be and however less than it might be. I feel a rising beneath my skin, A calling up to a higher place, Where I can lift one arm over head, In a graceful line, Drawing the curve of the clouds and feeling the thrum of the sunlight. But instead I know I'm falling, Further than forgetting, And the angle of angels, That I dreamed of ages ago, Will never curl back across the sky to reach down and touch mortality. And the caress of feathers, Over my eyes, And underneath my feet, Is gone now, Like the dreams I had of you and the secret lives I've lived without you. Wondering isn't good enough, Wandering isn't far enough, Wishing isn't strong enough, Wallowing isn't brave enough, Will you wait for my sorrow to pour itself out until there is nothing left? By then the door will open, And I will creep forward, Away from the all enveloping night, If my body still has the desire, I will go where I have shuddered away from for so long. I am broken now, I am empty now, I have poured out my life into a secret dream, That when I find the lightness, I can summon my dream to open the door. The words come faster now, My fingers fly over themselves, And create the words and phrases, To bring to life, The saddest lines from me.[/color][/center][/SIZE][/FONT]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Name: Chani Quetavril Age: 18 Gender: Female Race: inexplicably human Appearance: see attatchment, I have a much better one, but it shows a slit and some tit. So maybe I'll just...let you all see that later. Weapon(s): Tanto, 9mm, because you can't go wrong with something that gets past the metal detectors, hairpins. Biography: Shy and somewhat sheltered, Chani is the result of corpral punishment and sever introvertedness gone horribly wrong. She appears to be charming and demure, when really she's only a container of souls. The souls being contained are angry, sad, depressed, vengeful, confused, terrified, fake, and horribly mangled. There are times when her own sanity is in question, but she assures herself that there is nothing wrong. Supposing she ever breaks this cycle of self hatred, anger at the world, and mostly anger at her parents [who are recently dead], she might turn out to be useful. But at the moment, she is simply a wandering soul, more lost than you could ever imagine. She knows about the diary, and she's mixed with the creature, but she's so unstable [it seems], that nobody in their right mind would ever ask her to help. Perhaps her being a container of souls could have some better purpose, but until then, she's simply upset. There have been times when she felt like someone was trying to talk to her, explain to her something important, but as usual, she's written it off as something along the lines of: "Ah, my brain is trying to kill me again." Speaking of writing...[URL=http://otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=41396]More can be discovered about her by taking a look at samples of it...[/URL] [/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Vasvas Colubra, clad in leather, whip in hand, was slowly walking across a plain. She could see the mountain looming thousands of feet above her and she smiled. The scent in the air was drenched in magic. The heat of the day carried the heaviness of air, signalling a power storm. Humidity made the leather cling to certain places on her person, yet she still moved without any sort of awkwardness and tugging. From a far distance, she could make the outline of his body and see the weapon in his hand. She smiled to herself and coiled her weapon around her shoulder and torso carefully. Then, with steady steps she started at the foot of the trail and began to climb.[/i] [i]"This better be good. .....alright, so it will be good." Several miles upwards and still she moved at a steady pace, hardly drawing a deep breath in the oxygen deprived altitude. Her sidhe lungs filled and exhaled, her massive ammounts of red blood cells carrying the required element through her veins. Soon she stopped. And slowly drew her whip from around her body, letting the blacksnake curl delicately around her boots. Then she threw back her head and screamed.[/i] "I have arrived!" [i]Wild and unearthly, full of menace and power, strong enough to send nearly every living thing within miles running for cover. She looked ahead once more and let her already slender eyes shiver into catlike slits.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Consunse cracked her neck slowly, arching upwards and then back down again. Whatever the issue at hand was, she figured it wouldn't be pretty. Hallucinations. Affecting only one member. And an important trigger happy one at that. She flipped her hair back and walked slightly behind them, one hand resting lightly on her hip. It was at this point that the screams began. High and delicate, like a child's voice, pircing through her eardrums, blood pouring down her cheek bones, fingernails scratching at her body, the rushing wind, the roars of beasts, and through it all the sound of her own ragged breathing.[/i] "You're going to die! The people will turn against you, everyone will die! It'll be your fault, and everything will die." [i]Then silence. The two men turned to behold a slightly shattered Consunse. She was standing still, her head tilted to one side, like she had simply fallen asleep. There was no blood. Of course.[/i] "Hey. Hey Consunse. Wake up." [i]Her eyelids flickered, but perhaps it was simply a gentle wind. Carlos stepped forward and shook her shoulder gently. Instantly she snapped to, both hands clapping down on his forearm. She lunged and was about to slam him into the sand when her eyes focused and his face swam into view.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Name: Vasvas Colubra Age: Unimportant Species: Sidhe Weapon [Limit Three]: Whip, Tanto, Hairpins/Darts Appearance: See Attatchment, no, that leather is not very constricting. Magic [No regrowing limb/coming back from the dead crap, pick two abilities and stick to it]: Water/Earth Summoning ~~~~~~~~ Time period: Long Long Ago Rules: Like in the Magic bit, you know not to be a godmodding bitchfück. Blah blah blah, all the good stuff applies. Be a good boy, keep your hands off of my butt. You start. And be patient. Because it could take me a week to respond in consideration of....stupid week long vacation to Oregon. And other annoying things like that.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]"Oh I know what's out there...." [i]Consunse muttered something darkly while fiddling with the safety on her 9mm. Odysseus and Carlos likewise armed themselves.[/i] "A place like this is either perfect for an ambush. Or perfect for breeding ground." [i]Carlos put two fingers to the space between his eyebrows, gritting his teeth and squinching his eyes shut. This was going to be a fat headache. A big big big fat headache.[/i] "....as in mamals or herps?" "What kinda que- ---?" [i]The two men looked at Consunse, who was smiling happily at them, holding up what looked like a large hairy tarantula. They backed up, but it was too late. She had already thrown it into Odysseus's face. His reaction was satisfying. Yelp, snatch, hurl, shoot. And little pieces of tarantula rained down on the ground before them.[/i] "Invertebrates. I was wrong." [i]She grinned and pointed into the valley below them. TONS of tarantulas. Desert species. Large. Furry. And apparently nocturnal.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Name: Meriel Colubra Gender: Lady Age: 23 Biography: Born in Suburbia, Meriel has always been given oppertunities to test the waters. She went to elementry school, recieved satisfactory grades and continued on to secondary school. There she tilted between extremes. In math and science, she barely scraped by. But in english and art, she mopped up the class room with every other student and sometimes even the teachers. This has led her to take multiple courses designed to improve her artistic abilities. While in college, she continued to use her skills, often appearing in art shows when the oppertunity presented itself. Since then, she has sold over 100 paintings, drawings, sculptures, and triptichs. She recieved her degree in Arts and Humanities after four years of study, and continued to explore her options privately and otherwise. Meriel has travelled around the world with the money generated by selling her art, studying the masters and learning everything she presumed was out there. One could say she's married to her work, because she certainly never entertained the idea of having a signifigant other. This solitary life-style has somewhat alienated her. But then again, how else could she procure the time necessary to keep on doing what she loved? She moved to Key City, stationing her studio downtown, close enough to most art facilities and art afficionados. In time, she hopes to make a big enough name for herself, to travel again, this time with young artists. She always respected the Guardians, and now she wonders if she will be able to continue her work without interruption. Meriel would do anything to protect the art she loves and would probably die if she lost her passion for it. One thing that is perhaps her only quirk, is her obsession with snakes. Her last name, Colubra, Latin for snake, certainly affected her love for the animal, but her art truly illustrates it. In her stuido, she keeps several on hand, merely to watch them and better portray the fluidity of their curves, the sensous curl of the tounge, the way the tail locks around the tree limb, anything to show the world what she loves. As you can see, obsession is present, but it has not become destructive yet. Mind you I said yet. Personality: Meriel is strong in will, force of mind, but she lacks the ability to distinguish between the best choice and the good choice. At times she can be horribly indesiscive, but more often she simply picks the ho hum choice that would lead to mundane results. She's learned that when she makes rash desiscions, it's most often regretted. Meriel believes in hard work, independence, and the importance of being your own person. She would rather give up her limbs than blend in with the crowd. Profession: Artist, often asked to paint murals in the city and sometimes comissioned by private companies. Physical Description: see attatchment. Displaying both her shy and tender towards snake side and not-so-shy without snake sides. As you can see, she isn't muscular, but she doesn't look weak either.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Consunse's nose twitched, and she, still walking behind them, raised her voice just loud enough to register in their ears. Low and gentle, but far different from both wind and other noises of the night.[/i] "Be they cloves or plain cancer sticks, get rid of them right now." "Watch-bitch." "Damn straight. Lit cigarettes can be seen for miles. And if Alex killed the right sort of people, the rest of their tribe will be out watching for us. Did that ever cross your mind?" "Ah we can handle them." "They'll want to kill us." [i]Odysseus raised his cigarette and was about to extinguish it when Consunse caught it between her fingers, took a drag, then stubbed it out on his back. Carlos extinquished his like a naughty schoolboy caught in the act and continued walking. She snorted, breathing out smoke at the same time.[/i] "You little-" "Ah ah, temper temper Odysseus."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Consunse looked down at the two of them, snorting to cover the laughter that threatened to bubble up in her throat. Alex looked like he was pouting, but the other two looked like they had just taken a refreshing run through the track. Carlos volunteered first.[/i] "Scorpion attacked me." [i]Lorn repeated his words incredulously.[/i] "Scorpion. Attacked. You." "...Yeah! It just came up out of nowhere, spitting venom and hissing." "Scorpions don't spit venom and his. Cobras spit venom and his. ....." [i]Consunse kept her face and voice perfectly steady, not betraying herself with wild hysterical laughter.[/i] "Oh. Well it might have been a cobra too." "You could just say that a madman attacked you and the effect would be the same. It's sometimes difficult to tell what's attacking you. Particularly when you're drunk." "Wha-?" [i]All members present except for her looked slightly confused.[/i] "We're not drunk Consunse." "Oh. I thought your lying was a side effect. It's obvious one of you had something to deal with and the other two were just helping out." "Yeah that's right. Helping." "........someone just shoot me now." [i]Lorn grinned and pulled out his gun, pointing it in her general direction.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]"May I help you?" "Are all survival specialists this confrontational?" "No. Some of us are ugly." ".......ah." [i]She rolled her eyes and folded the blanket at the foot of the bed. Consunse eyed Valence cooly, then stood up and adjusted her pants. Then, with one swift motion, she grabbed her gun belt, strapped it on, then reached for her water pack and marched outside. She was just in time to see Lorn headed out as well. And she trailed him quickly, adjusting the pack to fit in one line down her back.[/i] "What's going on?" "All I hear is incoherent yelling." "It's a start."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Consunse snarled at him and clenched her muscles around his fingers, making his job at least twice as hard as it had been when he had first started.[/i] "Yeah, and I'll finish it too. You cünt." "Oh, naughty girl." "Bah. You've said worse." [i]He was about to respond, when he decided to jerk his fingers into her with far less kindness than before, curling up the tips to rub against more sensitive areas. In response, Consunse gently placed her fingers at the base of nis neck, her fingernails simply running over his skin. Then, as soon as he stopped for a second to reposition, she dug in and raked her claws down his back, the muscles in her shoulders rippling as she rended his skin one raw red mass. Odysseus's back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream, holding back for both fear of being caught and being thought a pansy. He stopped himself and leaned his mouth over to her ear long enough to whisper.[/i] "You little whore...I'll kill you for that." "Oooh, I'm scared now." [i]She winked at him and ran her palms over his flesh once more, caressing gently, soothing him with her touch, before reaching up to kiss his lips ever so sweetly. He removed his hand long enough to let her kiss his fingertips, run her tongue between them, then kiss him again, this time putting a little more energy into it. Odysseus shivered and submitted to her touch as she pressed him back down, switching places as easily as rolling onto her side. Then, in her new, and much more appreciated position, she straddled him, one hand on his face, the other resting just behind her behind.. [haha] Her teasing eyes flickered up to his, then down to his broad chest. She leaned over and nuzzled his neck, her hand trailing down to flick against his own nipples, her other hand rubbing him slowly, much more slowly than anything he had done for her. Slow enough to the point where he was both aroused and extremely annoyed at the pace she was setting. Noticing his frustration, she did nothing more than slide her body against his and grin at him.[/i] "Frustrated?"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Consunse leaned over, until the fork was far away from the important part of her person. Then she placed both hands on the ground behind her and kicked back, moving slower than Alexander would have believed. She straightened up a good distance away and shook her finger at him.[/i] "Careful. I doubt Odysseus would like to see you putting any sort of prick near my cünt." "Such language from such a delicate looking female." "Delicate being the most important describing word in that sentence." [i]She grinned at him and fixed herself a bowl of rice and lentils, mashing it together with the aid of her hairsticks turned into chop sticks. Like an ancient chinese man, she held the bowl to her mouth and scooped the contents into her mouth, inhaling as she went.[/i] "Manners." "What manners?" [i]She chuckled and set down the now empty bowl and picked up the glass of tea he had been nursing. She drained it and set it back down delicately. Then. After a few winks and smiles, she leaned over him and blew softly in his ear.[/i] "Behave. Or I'll give you the four-prick treatment instead." [i]He was about to respond when he felt her hairsticks, last seen in her hair again, pressing gently into the small of his back. Alexander reached for them, only to see her flip out of his way again. She stopped by the door, waved, blew a kiss, then went back to her tent.[/i][/COLOR]

[QUOTE=Dragon Warrior]Yeah, I noticed that, but what is this? Pick on teh sexah beast day? Yeesh XD And personality is in bold, Raiha ;)[/QUOTE][COLOR=MediumTurquoise]So UNDERLINE IT OR SOMETHING! ...sheesh.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]......oh my god. I can't believe I skipped that. Maybe you should bold it. But really. You also forgot to list the Dlogger signup with a title. BAD! BAD DOG![/COLOR]