Ailes de Velour

The only group I fall into at school is my own. I don't hang out with anyone, nor do I hardly ever talk to anyone. I don't have any friends and I'm not good at even trying to make one. I'm not emo enough to be emo (though I make fun of myself this way), nor am I goth enough to be goth (though I do like Bauhaus and lots of gothic bands), and I'm only "nerdy" because all I think about is pretty much Soul Calibur and .hack. When I am with my friends (who are all at a different school), I'm a completely different person. I'm still what I described above, without the loner part, but much more talkative and spontaneous. I prefer to call my group the MPOS; Mega Peachy Outsider Squad. There's also the FANS, and Pandora in a Box (my band). That's my label. By the way, there's absolutely no such thing as a poser/poseur. You can't critisize someone for being themself. And yes, everyone in the whole would is as individual as anyone can be. Hopefully everyone has the good sense to do what they like and not what they don't like (just for a label). If someone wants to call themself gothic, I say they have all the right to. Emo, the same, prep, the same, whatever. If they want to be that, then they're individual because they like who they are. The end.

Jake, you're just a metalhead; =P. Davey doesn't have a vocally trained voice, but he does sing in falsetto. I don't think a lot of men can do that (save Claudio from Coheed and Cambria). I believe AFI IS musically talented; Hot Topic mallrats might listen to them just because the store sells a shirt with them on it. The type of people who listen to a band have nothing to do with the talent or passion of the band itself. While Davey's voice isn't trained, he does have a nice one. He's very poetic when it comes to writing lyrics, too. I just really love them. =D

Tons of Rasputina songs have silly lyrics, which is why I love them hysterically. I don't know which to pick, though, so I'll try some random ones. "Nozzle" Nozzle, nodule, eraser, chip: a few thoughts on the subject by a little nothing. What was so obviously strange, yet mystifyingly true about the whole situation, was Miss Connie Pollyp's failure to grasp that the time was indeed now if she was to ever recover vitality to her mortal envelope. Oh sure, she liked perfume - and she had a lot of it, too - but pampered wisps do not a clothdoll make. And there we have a lesson that is easier to speak of than it is to, how you say, live by? "AntiqueHighHeelRedDollShoes" Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Oral teeth, loggy sockes, rubber pants, I cry I dance Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Metal head, mohair wig, rubber pants, I cry I dance Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Mohair wig in afro style, Very scary little smile. Fully flexible you see, Is there one as sweet as me? Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Rosy cheek and ruby lip, better than banana split. Funny little klutzy bit, took my brother can't be fit. Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Pick me up for heavens sake. Aren't I your baby cakes? Don't fall for all the little fakes. Aren't I your baby cakes? Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Daintier, smarter, better dressed! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes! Antique High Heel Red Doll Shoes!

I've been a rabid AFI fangirl for about two years now, maybe a little less. I know a lot of people who say their old stuff was better, few people who like their newer stuff, and many who've never even heard of them at all, which I find odd. However, since I started high school they've been a little more well known, especially around the emokiddies (who are just plain adorable). Anyway, I really love Black Sails through Sing the Sorrow, and I'm eagerly anticipating their new album. Their punk stuff doesn't sit with me too well, but I haven't given it another try since my friend is influencing me towards punk music. Maybe it'll grow on me? I mean, I like He Who Laughs Last, and I Want a Mohawk, but I haven't heard much else. I've only read the lyrics, and they say the eff word a lot. I really don't care to get into music that does. Anyway. Davey might be sexy, but that's not why I like the band. They's awesome.

Oh my gosh. Protect Break. That does not sound very fun. Sure, it was welcomed in the first four games, but it was an integral part of the story. Now everyone will be all, "omgz DATA DRAIN !!!1!!" or something to that effect. BAH! I'll probably try to use it sparingly if it comes out in the USA, but I might end up being a data drain freak in the long run. Hey, they used the same music as when I was making my trailer for my failed dot hack Rm2k3 game! Not surprising.

Following the news that Tarja Turunen has been kicked out of Nightwish, I wrote a song. Yes. [CENTER]Once More Too far back their dying bonds fall The glue is decaying, tearing apart Thus the mantra, it seems, "One for all" Was never truely taken to heart Something so prolific So quick to evanesce A contradiction prophetic With nothing to confess What can you do now? A queen of sirens with beauty mind-set But the poet only aims to please Faith conspires, they aren't finished yet Rise again with fiery ease Something so prolific... The incubus of dreams, the future beholds The nightmare came unprepossessing In my ears, their magical past unfolds The child will settle for it's blessing The stars were their bright chandoliers As their ghosts, on unearthly stages, sing Now they glow in the sky as serene cavaliers Have we witnessed the bell's last ring? What can you do now? [/CENTER] On the paper on which I wrote this, I drew me mourning near a tombstone that read "Old Nightwish, 96-05. I'm But a Poet Who Failed His Best Play." And then on the back I drew a comic entitled "Tukami + Tayari = Lubblubb! At Least One-Sided, Anyway." Tukami and Tayara are the Japanese equivalents for Tuomas and Tarja (for my anime satire). In it, Tuomas was trying to mind his own business and Tarja kept popping out of places and screaming like a fangirl (she appeared with a flashlight after snuffing out his candle, she burst from the dishes cabinet when he wanted some coffee, and she erupted from the toilet as he entered the bathroom). Oh gosh, I love making fun of people. But anyway, back to Symphonic Metal! If you like it, and write it, feel free to post your creations here. It can be Nightwish related (not plagiarised) or not, it doesn't matter.

Hm, I think I meant to say that I'd try out the new stuff to see if I like it. I think I posted that on the Nightwish board. I don't remember, but I just reread my post. =X Once was a more costly album than Century Child; they hired a background choir and the London Symphony Orchestra, which gave it musical superiority to the other albums but I felt it didn't have the same Nightwish feel to it's sound. Tuomas still wrote the songs and played the leyboard, Marco still played Bass, Jukka still drummed, Emppu still played guitar, and Tarja still sang, but it's different. It was the first album I heard, too, which is odd for me to say that it wasn't as Nightwishy as their past albums. I still like it, just not as much as Century Child. Now I know how AFI fans feel when they say the old stuff is better (though I love Black Sails through Sing the Sorrow equally, but that's another story, nevermind, anyway...) This just SUCKS. Oh, I wrote a song about it. I don't know if it's appropriate to post it here, though, so maybe I'll type it up for Anthology.

When I first read the letter, I couldn't get my jaw off the ground. How sad, and what a slap in the face to make it public like that! Like I said on the Nightwish board, I don't think I'll listen to the new stuff they come out with. Tarja was the best vocalist I have ever heard in my life, and it just won't be the same without her. It's not just how well she sings, it's her distinct voice. Tuomas is contradicting himself, but I'm still behind him (and Tarja, because I can't pick sides like that. I lubb' all of them) because he said the fans were most important. However, firing Tarja is DEFINITELY not pleasing for a lot of fans. But he also has to please himself and the band, which I believe is more important than trying to make fans happy. This even coming from a raving Tarja-Tuomas-Nightwish-fan, who included them in her mega-satire! I had to make them Japanese after this news though, which sucks. Now everyone is Japanese (there used to be ten Japanese characters, five from America [AFI and Marguerite Moreau] and five from Finland [Nightwish]). But anyway. I'll just stick with Tarja-Nightwish, because it's what I know and love and I'm fine with it. Besides, I don't like Once as much as Century Child, it was losing the Nightwish essence. We can only wish them the best in their whatever-endeavors.

I love this game so much that I just might marry it. However, I'm angry at how absurdly difficult it is. Setsuka (who is probably my favorite new character), Xianghua, Seong Mina, and Abyss are nearly impossible to beat, no matter what character I use. It's also annoying that when I pick on of those characters, they're nowhere near as good as the CPU makes them. That's just because I'm human, though. Maybe Raphael[spoiler] is a vampire now? I haven't read his profile, so I don't know if it says anything about it, but I was playing as either Siegfried or Nightmare, I don't remember, and my character said "You're not human anymore, are you?" So, that's pretty ub3r nifty.[/spoiler] Did anyone else think he resembled David Bowie in SCII? Not so much anymore, though. Chronicle 10 in Chronicle of the Swords is the hardest thing I've ever done. [spoiler] Hyle is impossible, because he constantly guards everywhere, and I can't hit him enough. On top of that, his arena lowers the offense, so when I do hit him it barely hurts. He also button mashes, if the insane weapon slashing of the CPU could be called that. He's worse than my sister. Even if I do manage to beat him, which I've only done twice, the boss sends out a huge horde of soldiers who start recapturing all my forts. They're not too strong, but after struggling with Hyle I won't have but one or two allies left.[/spoiler] So, overall, I think this is the best game I've ever played. I especially adore the character creation system: I made a list of all the characters I wanted to make and it ended up over a hundred (at least eighty eight original characters, some people from anime, and several annoying people from school whom I wanted to beat up, including the administrators at my old school: money pirates. =D) This game is yummy.

What does dressing up and getting candy have to do with the devil? Uh, nothing. So anyway, I really want to be Elphaba from Wicked. I'd even paint my skin green with some of that special Halloween cream they sell at Party City. However, I don't have any money and my mom, who is boring and doesn't care to go all out for Halloween or even Christmas and actually believes that people get too old to dress up, is not going to help me buy it. I can't be out of luck now! Emotearz.

[font="arial"][size="2"][color="darkorchid"]Since I've only been to one concert my whole life, it fits in both categories. The Killers: Good- First concert ever Awesome band Friends were there Got in for free The pretzel was good. =D Bad- The opening band, Louis the XIV, wasn't all that great, and they played for about 45 minutes Sat too far away from stage/friends Left around ten PM and I had to wake up really early the next day, resulting in missing "All The Things That I've Done," which was the last song they played. Yep. That's it.[/font][/size][/color]

Woot, a big creative writing assignment. Enjoy. --- Something about a raging fire caught Lumen?s attention and gripped it with an iron fist. He felt the flames lick his bare arms, without singeing his body, and they danced in a crimson flurry around his unmoving, awestruck figure. The boy stared ahead; the heat from the fire was creating a fierce wind that blew his black hair every which way and obscuring some of his vision. His eyes were so icy and blue that it seemed they would spring to life and douse the inferno, but he was too enthralled with the whirlwind of flames that the thought of ending it never crossed his mind. He thought he would be able to stand in the middle of the spectacle forever, never being interrupted by his hateful father, his irritating mother. Maybe even nature would be on his side for the rest of his life. But he knew this would never happen, nothing ever happens the way he wants it to. He knew so much more than ?life?s not fair.? He had little control over anything around him. His father was short-tempered and had a powerful fist, and his mother was a lazy slob who made him do everything she could think of. ?Make dinner, Lumen. Clean the house. Go to market. Feed the cat. Wash the windows. Fix the staircase. Mend the bedcovers.? Her voice was that of a screeching peacock, and it had scratched itself into Lumen?s brain and wouldn?t get out. The pain of his father beating him added to this annoying thought, and created an everlasting twinge of misery that he couldn?t shake. The flames spun around him faster as his anger rose at his parents. He thought of all the times they had wronged him, which he felt was every day of his life. He was only eleven years old, but he thought all those years were just constant ache and agitation. With every hateful thought, the blaze grew larger and larger until he was trapped in a hot vortex of red and gold. He loved every minute of the phenomenon; it was the only thing he could control, the only thing that didn?t give him anguish. He thought he was safe from his world, and he was. At least until his father made his appearance. ?Bleeding orchids! What in Airth?Lumen!!? He was very angry, and possibly frightened. Of course, any elf would be scared of a giant fire tornado spinning stagnantly on his front lawn. Lumen just wondered how his father knew he was causing it. My father, he thought, no. I have no father. He is just Nixel. That?s all he is. ?Lumen!? Nixel cried again. The boy heard the rustling of rubber in the grass, and he knew what was coming. He didn?t have time to react to the rush of freezing cold mountain water that stabbed him in the back, diminishing the flames and stamping them out until they were just ghosts hanging in the air. Lumen was now very exhausted, cold, and hurting; the pain in his back paled in comparison to the screaming his stomach was doing. He fell over, hot tears streaming down his face, and cool mist descending on to his quivering form. ?What was that bloody thing?!? Nixel demanded, clamping his pincers on to Lumen?s left arm and yanking the boy into the air. By instinct, he thrust his legs beneath him and reached for the ground, landing hard on his feet when Nixel dropped him. The boy?s arm had turned a dark shade of pink from the man?s powerful grip. ?What kind of magic? There?s evil here, I know it.? There is evil here, Lumen said in his mind, and it?s just you. ?No sir.? Lumen hated Nixel, but he was supposed to honor him. At least the man?s fury would be a little softer. ?I willed the flames to do that.? Nixel arched his thick brow and smirked. ?You willed them to, eh?? The man swung his heavy boot into Lumen?s bony chest. The boy coughed, his eyes widening in indescribable pain, and fell over backwards. He stilled his breathing to quell the unbearable pain in his ribs; he knew a bunch of them must?ve cracked, if not broke all together. ?You?re nothing special. You have no powers like that. Understand?? Lumen couldn?t respond. He was sobbing, desperate to keep himself from hyperventilating. He wished he could respond, because Nixel would most likely attack him again in his silence. He was correct, too; the man grabbed his son?s arm again?the right one this time?and pulled him up to his feet. ?Lying is not something you want to make a habit of, though I wouldn?t be surprised if you haven?t lied all your life. Get out of my yard, vermin.? Nixel spat, giving the boy one push, and turned away. He entered his house and slammed the door so that the shingles on the roof shook, some dropping to the ground. Surprisingly, Lumen managed to stay on his feet, in spite of the shove that Nixel gave him. ?He told me to get off his yard,? he sputtered, his ribs kicking his insides, ?so I have a right to run away.? He had tried running away many times before, each attempt ending with a lecture from a policeman and a harsh beating from his father. Once, he was even locked in the cellar for three days, never given anything to eat or drink. Luckily, he found a stock of limp green vegetables in a crate and managed to stay alive. He started walking towards the woods, unsure of his destination. However, the burning ache his ribs were exploding with acted as his compass: he would visit the Healer of the nearest city. Ecnamor was one of Nezaria?s largest cities; it was so big that it was divided into smaller villages by long brick walls with parapets atop them. The closest one to Lumen?s forested in home was the littlest of the village segments, one that he had explored many times before?mostly during escape attempts?and knew his way around it like the back of his hand. Right when he met the end of the woods, the smell of tangy citrus fruit filled his nose. The scent came from the icy drink kiosk, which sold cups full of slush in every kind of flavor imaginable. Lumen had other things on his mind than a non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri, however, and his feet took him straight to a wooden hut that looked like it was being constantly repaired. His free hand?one was clutching his throbbing chest?grabbed the wooden doorknob, and he let himself in. Inside the hut was dimly lit, with waiting chairs lining the room and a long desk, filled with important looking documents, standing empty next to a staircase leading down. No one but the boy was in the waiting room, but he could hear soft talking coming from downstairs. He figured his situation deserved to be treated right away, so he took a deep, painful breath, and descended the steps. Downstairs, a middle-aged man in white was hunched over a patient, who was laying flat on a cot. ?I swear it, doc, I got no reflexes!? insisted the man, who?s beady eyes were filled with tears. ?Don?t be ridiculous. Sit up.? The doctor grabbed a small gavel and gestured for the patient to behave. ?No! I can?t! You?ll dislocate my knee. I need it for my profession, you see.? ?I?ll do nothing of the sort. This is only a checkup, I have to make sure you?re in working order.? ?I am a working man! The pay is far too low.? Lumen stifled a small laugh, followed by a cough, making his presence known. ?What in Airth?? exclaimed the doctor, turning his attention towards the boy. Lumen must?ve looked worse than he felt; the man rushed to his side and bent his knees to become the same size, his eyes wide with concern. ?What happened to you, son?? ?Fell off a cliff?rolled down, hit rocks?? Lumen could barely get the lie out, he was wheezing and it hurt his chest to speak at all. However, he couldn?t keep quiet, and he couldn?t tell the doctor that his father had beaten him. The consequences of revealing the abusiveness in his father would be far worse than some broken ribs. ?Honestly, kids want to have adventures everyday and all that happens is I have another careless injury to heal. Can?t you be a little more thoughtful, kid?? Lumen responded by groaning and falling over. He wasn?t acting, either. ?Please?? he begged, closing his eyes to create a barrier for tears. The doctor sighed and kneeled down, reaching into his pocket for a sedative. ?Take this,? he ordered, handing Lumen a green herb. Lumen obeyed, and thought that the leaf tasted like his father?s volatile attempts at cooking. Drowsiness rushed into his eyelids, and the sensation of cold hands on his stomach was the last thing he felt. ?Twenty-eight.? ?Twenty-eight?? ?Your total.? Lumen let out a heavy sigh and jammed his hand into his pants pocket. There was not twenty-eight of anything in that empty void. ?I can?t right now. I?m sorry.? He said, twisting his face into an innocent mask of hope. The doctor stared at him, unconvinced. ?You?ll have to pay me somehow, and you?re not leaving this office until you do!? Lumen sighed again, his hand reluctantly rising to rub a bump beneath his shirt. His eyes closed again, avoiding the hot tears, and he pulled a silver chain from his neck. Dangling on the end of the necklace was an amethyst angel, it?s hands acting as armor to it?s invisible heart. He hadn?t told anyone about this necklace; he found it under a rock in a lake and thought it was a sign of hope. Now he knew that misery would win at everything. ?You can melt the silver, sell the gem or something.? Lumen couldn?t help but let one solitary tear shine on his cheek. Maybe, he thought, maybe if I show my sadness, I won?t have to lie? ?What is it?? Lumen sighed for the third time that hour. Nothing happens the way he wants it to. ?The last heirloom of my father,? he said after a second of fast thought, ?who was the most important person to me. If this goes, I?ll have nothing left to remind me of him.? Waterworks. He had to make it convincing. The doctor saw his tears as solemn memories, and fear of the future. In reality, the boy was forcing thoughts of his real, living father and all the terrible things he had done. ?If it means so much to you?? the doctor said, impatience in his voice, ?then you can leave with it. No charge.? Lumen took full advantage of his offer and ran out the door. Ribs fully healed, he was free to run anywhere he wanted. He knew where he wanted to go; Siledar. It was the nearest continent to his own, and it was full of wonder. Or so he had read; the closest he had ever gotten to the beauty of Siledar was through the library. But he yearned to go and settle there, no matter how long or far he had to go. As long as he was where his father couldn?t find him, he was safe. He was not safe at all. ?Lumen!? came the shout, echoing from the very end of the forest. It filled the boy?s whole body with dread. He saw Nixel coming from the trees, his face contorted into a burning canvas of hate, anger, and insanity. The man repeated his cry, which locked Lumen?s knees. He couldn?t even run away this time. Nixel arrived, his fists trembling. ?What were you doing out here? Telling everyone that your big bad father beat you to a pulp?? Lumen could only shake his head vigorously. Nixel ignored him, latching his claws on to the boy?s thin wrist and pulling so hard he might?ve meant to release the arm from it?s socket. Somehow, Lumen?s feet remained glued to the ground, causing Nixel to pull harder. ?Come on!? the man ordered, grabbing on to his son?s arm with his other hand. Lumen would not budge. The boy saw an opportunity to react. Frantic white lightning struck out everywhere, ribbons of electricity lashing every which way and whipping Nixel?s arms. The man screamed in pain and let go of Lumen, who?s hand had stretched open and turned white in effort. The lightning bolts were erupting out of the boy?s palm. He willed the storm to stop, so it did. He lifted his leg and dashed away, running into the forest with no destination in mind. Forward would take him home. Forward was not an option. Nixel recovered quickly and began pursuit of his son, closing in fast. Nixel was much faster than Lumen. He leapt into a flying tackle and landed on his target, who screamed and crumpled into a ball. Then there was an explosion of fire from beneath Nixel, sending him crashing into an ill sycamore and snapping the tree in half. Lumen stood, the flames evaporating, his eyes quivering with hate. Nixel was burned and bruised, standing up from the ground. ?What are you!?? he demanded, closing his fists and tensing his legs. Finally, Lumen had the upper-hand. ?I am in control of the Anima!? he exclaimed, a grin meeting the corners of his mouth. Nixel was scared now, something that had never happened before. ?You?re a liar.? ?I?m not. I am an Animage.? Nixel was both frightened and furious, his face showing a mix of both emotions. ?Shut up! You?re nothing! You?re just a scrawny little idiot with a few tricks up your sleeves. You don?t control every element, you don?t have anything special about your Psyche!? Lumen was exhausted. He knew he had tamed fire, air, earth, ice, and water, but he didn?t have the energy to prove it. Nixel was gaining strength in anger, creating a mist of hate between him and his son. There?s nothing left to do but flee, Lumen thought. So he did. He ran as far as he thought he could go, swerving to avoid trees and leaping to avoid Nixel?s clutches. The boy?s energy was fading fast, and he could hardly keep up the pace, but Nixel?s hot hatred was fueling his adrenaline. He found a new burst of power in his legs and used it to speed ahead. The forest?s other end was coming up fast, the light spreading out from behind the trees, the soft sound of flowing waters met his ears? He found himself at the bed of a clear blue creek, nothing but green grass and a tree stump with jagged pieces of wood sticking out. That could be used as a weapon, Lumen thought, and hoped that Nixel wouldn?t figure that out. The man burst from the forest and did not slow down, colliding with Lumen. The boy propelled forward, directly on to the sharp stump. A searing pain shot through his every muscle. His skin was white hot with pain, and his vision was blurring. He couldn?t breathe, speak, or think. Nixel was silent for once, speechless. This would?ve been a blessing to Lumen?s ears if he wasn?t in agony. He heard the man retreating back into the forest, without so much as a quick look to see if his son was still alive. I am alive, you twit, Lumen thought, his mind closing down; and I?ll never let you see my end. Summoning whatever strength he had left in his suffering body, he gripped the sides of the trunk and pushed himself out of the spikes, landing on his back in the crisp grass. His hand gingerly touched the injuries from the stump, feeling warm liquid all over his chest. Of course he?d be bleeding, he was just nearly impaled on a hazardous piece of nature. If I?m bleeding, I know I?m alive. The dead don?t bleed. The dead don?t think and feel, either. I know I?m alive. His last thoughts rang out in his ears, and he let out a little smile before closing his eyes and losing consciousness. ?Honestly lad, you need to be more careful!? the doctor exclaimed, wrapping Lumen?s reddened chest in thick gauze. The boy was slowly stirring, unable to take note of his surroundings right away. When he was fully awake, he glanced around to find himself back in the doctor?s office in the village, sprawled on the cot without his shirt. He tried to speak, which tormented his wounds. He thought to be strong, and he let the words out. ?N-nixel?? He stuttered, his breathes drawing out in short, painful wisps. ?Who?? Lumen realized what he was about to say, that his father had pushed him on to the speared tree stump. He couldn?t tell anyone, or he?d just be worse off. ?Nightmare,? he corrected himself. ?I don?t doubt you had one, a trauma like this. Just what were you doing by that dangerous trunk, anyway?? The doctor finished patching the boy?s wound and had stepped over to his medicine cabinet. This one took more than a second of thought. Lumen found his creativity block a relief; he was scared how easy it was to lie. ?Does it hurt to talk?? the doctor wanted to know, pulling a vial of small white pills from the cabinet. Lumen was still thinking of a lie, but an idea wormed it?s way into his brain. ?I want to be a paladin,? he began, speaking slowly to pacify his aching injuries, ?so I figured I could start training early. I love that area by the creek, because I can just jump right into it when I?m tired of practicing and it would bring me back to life. I was jumping around today, because I want to be able to jump on a horse without touching it?that seems like a heroic trait to me?and I wasn?t watching where I was landing. I don?t really remember anything else.? The doctor shook his head, the loose skin on his face wagging like the wattle on a turkey. ?You?re too bizarre for words, kid. Well,? he cleared his throat, turning his composure into that of a professional medical technician, ?I couldn?t stitch any of the wounds, because each one is too close to another and I?d have ended up giving you a bigger incision. The most I could do was dab on some antibacterial potion and wrap you up. It?ll heal on it?s own over time, as long as you keep it clean, but you?ll always have scars there.? Lumen sighed, staring at the ceiling. He always tried to avoid wounding to the point of scarring. He hated Nixel more than ever. The doctor pulled a chair over to the cot, unscrewing the cork from the vial and dumping two capsules into his palm. ?Take these, I?ll get you some water.? Lumen obeyed as the doctor went to the sink and filled a paper cup with tap water. He returned, sat down, and gave the cup to Lumen, who drank it in one gulp. He hadn?t realized how hungry or thirsty he was, and had no idea how long it was since he had been unconscious ?How long have I been here?? he asked, the medicine quickly dissolving any pain he had in his chest. ?Two days. You?ve been asleep since the accident. A woodsman found you and brought you here, you?re lucky he was on patrol.? This answered one of Lumen?s questions; he was curious as to how he had arrived in the doctor?s office. He was sure that the medicine man didn?t make house calls to sick little squirrels in the forest. ?When do you think I?ll be back on my feet?? ?My guess is a couple of days. Kids are pretty resilient, and I?ll bet you recover fast if you could survive a thing like that.? The doctor said, smiling in subtle amazement. Lumen had no more curiosities, and he merely wanted to be alone in thought and sleep. The doctor seemed to read his mind, as he stood and walked upstairs silently. ?I need to report a death.? Lumen had been out of the doctor?s office for only an hour, and he was all ready hurt again. This time, however, it was self-inflicted; he accidentally tripped over the front steps of the printing house and landed his shoulder on the doorstop. He escaped with a bruise, and ended up sitting in a cushioned chair holding a bag of ice on his new injury. ?I need the name, death date, cause of death, the basics of an obituary.? Said the woman behind the desk. She wore square glasses and had her graying hair pinned into a tight bun. Everything about her seemed crestfallen; even her pointed Elfin ears drooped miserably. Being a printer who hears about all kinds of deaths must be a pretty depressing job. ?Lumen Jade Korangar,? the boy responded, not missing a beat. His plan was to print his own obituary to hide from Nixel. He had to make it convincing, but create a different story than the one he told to the doctor. He still couldn?t reveal the wrath of Nixel, because that would drop suspicions that he was still alive. No one but the dead boy ever knew about Nixel?s temper. He had carefully planned out the tale in his recovery time, memorizing it so that he wouldn?t have to think fast and screw everything up. ?He died four days ago. I found him bleeding to death on the ground, next to a spiky stump. His very last words were ?Death by impalement is not the way I wanted to go. ?Lumen Jade Korangar, killed by a tree stump,? they?d say.? I remember them very clearly, because he pointed his finger at the creek right after he said them, and they seemed really profound for a kid that small. I?d say he was about eleven, maybe. I can only assume that he somehow fell on to the stump and was speared, then somehow got himself off. It?s amazing that he lasted an hour, really.? He said, making sure to show a small amount of sorrow and concern in his face. ?I don?t know anything else about him.? ?What did you do with the body?? the lady wanted to know. Lumen was prepared for any question, especially this one. ?I thought the most noble thing to do was dump it in the creek. I mean, he was pointing towards it right before his spirit departed. I took it as a sign.? The woman sighed, scribbling so furiously that her quill pen resembled the wing of a baby bird frantically attempting flight. ?Could I at least have a description so the family will know who he is? We obviously can?t do an autopsy now.? ?Yes, I?m sorry.? Lumen felt a little nervous. He couldn?t twist his appearance; Nixel would not be convinced that he was dead. But he couldn?t flat out tell her that he could be the dead boy?s twin, either, that would make him obvious. He was stuck, but weighing out the consequences of either option told him that he would be much safer if he told part of the truth. ?He had thick black hair that reached his shoulders; kind of hid his eyes. He had amazing eyes, too, they looked like ice. He was a little pale, and he had on a blue shirt and black pants.? He hesitated. The woman hadn?t looked at him good since he entered; he needed to finish before she noticed him. ?Uh?sorry, my memory kind of fails me now.? The woman started to sob. ?Oh, such a little boy! It?s not fair!? Lumen stared at her, waiting for her to regain composure so he could make a quick exit. ?Are we done here?? She sniffed, removing her glasses and dabbing her wet eyes with a handkerchief. ?Yes, yes, done. Oh wait, what is your name? I need to know who helped record?this?death?? She broke down again. Her weeping spell gave Lumen enough time to think. He hadn?t made up a new name yet, but he was adept at creating aliases. ?Hansel Bilkiss.? That didn?t take long. His ability to lie grabbed his heart with a dark claw. No sooner had the woman copied down his words than she turned in her swivel chair and let loose a torrent of tears. Lumen saw this as an opportunity to run, so he leapt from his seat and dashed out the door. Freedom was an amazing feeling. Lumen had never felt so carefree in his whole entire life. He loved running from village to village, escaping Ecnamor by nightfall. His single destination was Siledar, where he hoped to live?not to sound cliché, but he couldn?t think of a better phrase?happily ever after. He hated the name he thought up in the printing house, so he would find a new one before he made it to the other continent. His journey took him a month into the deepest south of Nezaria and on to a cargo ship headed for the nearest Siledarian harbor. He managed to bribe his way on for free as a cabin boy. In his spare time on the ship, he would write in the notebook he bought before boarding; the sole purpose was to record his feelings and adventures. He always felt his life would make an interesting memoir, one that he couldn?t publish until Nixel was no longer a threat. He planned to make that happen as soon as possible. On the very first page in the journal, he scribbled endless lists of possible names to go by. He was still using ?Hansel;? the captain and crew had to call him something. But he wanted to restart his life in Siledar?a new name, a new story. His imagination was blank once again, and he ended up doodling pictures of stick figures in every empty space on the page. ?Oh well,? he said to himself, dropping his quill and closing the book, ?I don?t have to have a name until I?m born.? The ship rolled pleasantly on the waves, the hand of the Elfin Barometer on his wall flickering between ?Overcast? and ?Sunny.? He laughed at it?s symbolism. --- In case I've confused anyone with somethings, I hope this clears it up. *Anima- the five lesser elements; earth, air, fire, ice, and water. It is rare that any person is born with the Anima in their Psyche. *Animage- one who controls the Anima. *Psyche- the part of the spirit that houses an element, normally only one of the Anima. In rare cases, an elf will be born with the Anima in their psyche and will then also spawn one of the two greater elements; light or darkness. I hope this is not too long, sorry if it is. I'd really like some feedback, desperately. Anything and everything would be much appreciated! I need to know how to improve it before I turn it in next Monday (August 30, 2005), and maybe even how to start the second part of it (that will also be ready by Monday).

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]Reboot! I loved it. Except when a kid at school made fun of me for liking a bunch of shows on Toonami, because they were all rated Y7 and whatnot. And then that kid started crying during the state test. Dummy. I miss that show now. I loved it when they played the games, and that whole +taptap+ "REBOOT!" thing. That wasn't very aptly named, though, but I don't care. Le sigh. Nostalgia.[/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]Erm, Xicris, she meant that physically, her computer is not near the PS2. As in, it's in a complete different room. Not that her computer has bad graphics... I just bought .hack//AI Buster. It makes me want Fragment SUPER BAD!! Is there a secretly set release date for it?[/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]Anime in general is nerdy and whatever else you want to call it. There's no way around it. And you shouldn't care if people call you a dork or whatever, anyway. I agree with what Azure said, if you're always obsessing over anime then people are going to see you as a weirdo. Just keep your love for it to a public bare minimum and you won't worry about namecallers. Just my two cents. Two cents is not worth anything.[/font][/color][/size]

[QUOTE=SilentSecurity]I like the used. They're voices do get out of hand sometime, but the lead singer is only 18 so I think that could be a reason. I prefer My chemical romance, CKY, crossfade better, but since The Used are from my hometown I like them a lot too. ~Wes~[/QUOTE] [font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid] No, Bert (lead singer) is 23, or he was last time I checked. I think it might've been close to his birthday. And MCR's singer, Gerard, is 27. Not every band is full of teenagers... I like the Used, just because. I like some of their songs and I mooched In Love And Death (edited) off a friend because I liked Take It Away. I don't consider them pop at all, just because a band might be a little well-known doesn't mean they're pop. Mainstream rock is probably the best title for their genre.[/font][/size][/color]

2-D, double posting isn't allowed, could you delete that extra post and edit it into your first post? Mods will get after you if you don't...xP;; I know other people have had worse days than me, and reading them makes me feel selfish. I mean, I KNOW I'm selfish, but it makes me feel like the most selfish person alive. x_x;;

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]YES! I'm taking a creative writing class in school and I LOVE IT, even though I've only been to three classes so far. I love drama even more, but that's beside the point. SO. I decided to create a thread to post all my classwork that I figure is good enough, or that needs some constructive criticism before I turn it in. I have to submit two pieces to the school's literary magazine every nine weeks, so I'll need a lot of help with that. Today's Assignment: Vignette Chosen Subject: ...if I could control time... [b][CENTER]A Place Where Time Is Never Planned[/b] Phosphorescent ripples stream from my fingetips; tiny waves of light emanating from nothing more than air. Gaping in awe, I tell myself to see if anyone notices. But my gaze is glued to the phenomenon bursting from my hand. I had merely reached for the handle to the door of a bakery and it stopped against a void, the ripples undulating from my fingers. Now, I continue to watch them, unable to look away or move my hand. My hand--it's glowing. My stomach flutters and my mind races, scared that I'm going insane. Finally, I force my eyes away, leaving my hand in the air, and I glance furtively at pedestrians on the sidewalks. They don't notice. I don't know what to think. I stare at a man in a business suit, trudging down the street, and I realize that I'm controlling something. The man has his mouth wide open, his fingers clutching something I can't see. I hear a slow hiss and notice a fine spray lingering in the air in front of his mouth before it reluctantly vanishes down his throat. Something compels me to push with all my strength. I want to grab the door. Something tells me that if I touch the door, everything will return to normal. I follow my intuition and lean againt the barrier, desperately wishing to break it. I hear singing; the owner of the bakery is listening to a deep voiced operatic goblin. Time and sound have slowed down, so why haven't I? I gasp as the forcefield shatters. I fly through the door and land face first on grimy tile. The owner of the bakery doesn't notice me. I stand, rubbing my sore nose, and stare at the man. He doesn't blink or move at all. I stop breathing. I know what happened, but I don't want to believe it. I have time in the palm of my hand. It's soft and velvetty, but I can barely see it. It wiggles insubstantially, like a baseball-sized drop of water. Time is mine to control. My very own Neverland.[/center] By the way, my name's not really Melli, but it's my pen-name. Okay, so, this one isn't for Constructive Criticism, I just would like to know what you think about it. edit: I almost forgot the rating! Dodged the bullet there. --- Character Sketch The man born as Lumen Korangar has taken several aliases: Gigas, a mysterious man who acts as an aid to the good guys; Michael Crystal, a human who married an Elfin Queen and became the biological father of a hero; and Oxian the Terrible, a powerful, evil usurper to the throne of an influential country in the Elfin Realm of Airth. Being evil doesn?t mean being ugly, as Oxian was far from such. His skin was an ambient tone of pallor, smooth and unblemished fleshed covered his athletic build. Dark black hair cascaded down to his broad shoulders, passing by narrow, cold blue eyes. As for his nose and facial construction, it wasn?t too big or too small, too wide or too thin, it was well suited for a handsome appearance. His ears were triangular, as any elf?s would be, though slightly smaller than the average kind. The only flaws were the bloodshot effect his eyes took on, damaging the pure ice blue that seemed so amazing, and the long scars across his chest. He never showed anyone his wounds, as if he was ashamed that he had survived them. By the last year he was in power, he was about thirty-seven years old. He often went through a portal to the Human Realm of Earth, arriving in the American state of Nevada, appeared back in Airth a while later. He also traveled around the continent of Siledar for a long while, though his place of residence was in the country of Jagasa, his stolen throne. As Oxian, he was the evil King of a dying country. As Gigas, he was a friendly hunter who knew the deep, dark secrets of the realm and was very willing to share them with a worthy warrior. But as Michael Crystal, he was a mere human employed as an Emergency Medical Technician for Elko Hope Hospital. Of course, in reality, he loved giving pain and anguish, so he took the contradictory job as a healer to throw off any suspicions that might arise, suggesting that he was really evil. Oxian was born to two pureblood elves in Ecnamor, Nezaria (as Lumen Korangar), thus being a Pureblood elf himself. He has a very noble bloodline; everyone in his entire ancestry was a pureblood. He never felt able to brag about such a thing, as he considered himself much more than just pureblood. As he usurped the Jagasian throne, he stole half the royal family?s vast riches. He never used them, though, the economic status of Jagasa under his reign is worse than a tiny third world country in the human realm. Even his palace is crumbling, a place full of darkness and peasant furnishings. The only money he spends is salary for his legions of loyal followers, buying them strong armor and weaponry. His personality is that of a coldhearted recluse. He amuses only himself, and hates the majority of the population. He is selfish, sly, and corrupt, only caring for his own wishes. He enjoys causing pain and grief, and is powerful enough to get away with breaking every law. He does things his own way, simply because he can. He gets very bored in a calm environment and does anything he can to change things to his liking, even if he destroys the whole area. He habitually takes naps and baths several times a day, being slightly vain. If he feels he is getting slightly ill, he rests all the day long and takes plenty of medication that he makes for himself. His fingernails are often clipped, filed, and seem to be lacquered as they have a resilient white sheen about them. While he has nothing to do but wait for something to happen, he bounces his legs or taps the arms of his chair, alternating fingers and speeds. The most unique thing about Oxian is his immense power. He controls the Anima, or all elements (earth, air, ice, water, and fire), and is prominent in the powers of darkness. Not only is he strong magically, but has titanium hidden muscles. He is nearly indestructible; no one has ever been able to defeat him. He knows everything there is to know about Airth, the species, places, and especially influential people. However, he does not know the locations of six of the Seven Elemental swords, one of them being in his possession. He is the true wielder of the Sword of Darkness, meaning that no one else in the entire universe can use it to it?s full potential. His only hobbies are breaking laws and destroying lives, progressing his amazing power ever closer to it?s complete limit. If someone were to write a story about him, it would consist of the hardships of his childhood, the many changes he undergoes, the power coming to him over time, and especially the tale of how he stole the Kingdom of Jagasa. It would very much be the biography of Oxian the Terrible. --- I guess it's a little boring, but I was following the guidelines as best I could. This is a character sketch for a short story in the CW class, and I decided to use the main bad guy in the book I'm writing. It might help if you knew the story, but...eh. I plan on doing something with it very soon. [/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]My favorite band...hm...I'm allowed to have two, right? (In no particular order) [u]Rasputina[/u] I'm in so much love with their beautiful sound and Melora Creager's voice and lyrics are so amazing. The band is currently made up of two cellos (Melora and Zoe Keating) and drums (John McTeese, who's also very sexy). Rasputina makes me laugh, because the songs can be very comedic and very poignant at the same time. They inspire me, and cheer me up when I'm depressed. And as if their music wasn't good enough, they're super silly. [URL=http://www.rasputina.com/antics.html]This Cow thing[/URL] is evidence enough of that. I self proclaim Melora to be the absolute most super cool person in the whole entire world! [u]Nightwish[/u] My very favorite symphonic metal band. Very very very. Tarja's voice is one of the best I've ever heard; she's had years of operatic vocal training, and it shows in her sound. Tuomas' lyrics are often profound, even if I don't always agree with them. If there's a Nightwish song I don't like, it's because I highly disagree with the lyrics (and that's only happened once). And then off of music, they = pretty. I just think Sami is a better vocalist than Marco, though, that's the only other flaw. x_x;; I also can't live without the Century Child Album. Over the Hills And Far Away is pretty good, and Once is just AMAZING, but I really prefer traditional Nightwish to Once. The orchestras and choir was a nice touch, producing an album that none can possibly compare to, but it's hard to find the true Nightwish behind all the glamor. [/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]We've all had bad days before. But what was your absolute worst? August 4, 2005. I started High School. It was kind of exciting, in a strange way, but absolutely NONE of my friends were going to the one I am. I tried thinking positively about it, I tried telling myself that it will be okay. But it's not. It's not okay at all. So, August 4. I woke up at 5 AM Eastern US Time, because my mom is a teacher at my school and I have to go with her in the morning. I neglected to eat breakfast, simply because there wasn't anything fast around. I never eat breakfast, anyway. So, at 6:30 we arrived at the school. It wouldn't start for another hour, so I read Harry Potter (HBP) while waiting. My mom brought me some cake and Pepsi to wake me up a little. Then it was time to go to homeroom. I hugged my mom, she wished me luck, and I walked into the hall. It was the scariest place on earth. Everyone was so much bigger than me...I didn't know anyone. I got a little nervous, just because of the huge crowd of strangers, but I made it to homeroom okay. Homeroom was freezin' cold! At least I can kind of talk to someone in there, now... But during homeroom, my stomach started to hurt. One of those, "you ate something you shouldn't have!" hurts. That did not bode well at all. I was praying it would go away, but it was still there in geometry. So, five minutes into the class, I couldn't take it. I asked to be sent to the clinic. I went downstairs and asked in the Student Affairs Office. But the clinic was closed. No one was there. So, I sat down on a bench and suddenly started to cry. It wasn't any cry. It was sobbing, hyperventilating. I couldn't stop, I was too upset to go to class. My stomach kept hurting, too. I just wanted to go home. And I did, three hours later, when my mom finally got her conference period. That was the absolute worst day ever. So, if it doesn't hurt to recount, share. xP;;[/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]For some reason, I can't remember all of my favorite movies, but I can list three anyway. Just let me think a while. High Anxiety - It was just REALLY funny. I watched it with my dad, and he was snickering, so when my dad laughs, I laugh. But it really was comedic. There's one scene where the camera is zooming in from outside, at the cast eating dinner behind a great glass door...closer...closer...BAM! The door shatters! The cast looks over at it, then goes back to the movie. "Lolzasaurus." Annie - Yes, I'm in LOVE with Annie. I want to be Mrs. Hannigan in a production, really badly. I haven't seen the broadway version, but I want to. The Annie DVD is the closest thing I'll get to that as of now. I just love broadway in general, so there's no reason for me to not like Annie. If Into the Woods counted as a movie, it would probably be number one on my list (and there's not even a specific order!). League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - I'dunno. I guess the storyline was interesting or something, because one day, I watched it six times in a row. I know not many people like it because it's not true to the comic, but that's just the way I am. I take pride in liking things other's don't. Mynah. And besides, Mina and Dorian were cool. Blahaha. OMGOTH. I have to go to SCHOOL now. Graah![/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]I'm sick to death of people labelling Evanescence as a gothic band, which they're not. (I'm also weary of people calling Nightwish goth, but at least they're closer to it than Evanescence is). I'd say Evanescence is some kind of alternative rock, not metal, definitely not goth. They might be one of my guilty musical pleasures, but Amy Lee's voice pales in comparison to other singers. I.E. Tarja Turunen, Liv Christine (I think that's her name, whoever's in Theatre of Tragedy), and Sarah Brightman (who isn't in a rock band, but her voice is ten zillion times better than Amy Lee's). So, as I've said, I don't mind Evanescence, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't call them goth. Please. And their cover of "Heart Shaped Box" is vomituous.[/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][color=darkorchid][size=1] It's not the name, it's what it sounds like. Think about it: Dixie Normus. x_x;; As for me, I've heard of a few people with the last name Butts. Poor people. I think I'd also be unfortunate to have the last name Isador. When people said it, they'd be calling you a door. "Harry Isador!" *Harry is a door*. All though, that's not so completely strange and unfortunate.[/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]I read an article in Reader's Digest about a boy who was caught with a stolen car. The police cuffed him and took him to the station, and when he was freed he grabbed one of the officer's gun and shot him down, then encountered two more officer's and killed both of them, too. He was replicating a scene from Grand Theft Auto. In that same article, it said a man was suing multiple companies for $600 each: Take Two Entertainment and Rockstar Games for manufacturing GTA, and Walmart and Gamestop for distributing it. I don't think he's being completely unreasonable: violent, controversial video games have been proven to, in few cases, lead to violent reactions and attempted (and achieved) murder. It listed a few massacres, including the Colombine shooting, and said that the kids who started it were very much into violent games. Now then, how could ANYONE get insane over Galaga? That's probably my favorite game right now. xÞ;;[/font][/color][/size]

[font=arial][size=1][color=darkorchid]*applause!* Hah! That was great! One of those videos I wouldn't mind watching over and over again. It looks like a lot of fun, but I probably wouldn't have anything I'd need to make something like that. What kind of stuff did you use, other than a video camera? Is there a computer program needed to rearrange scenes and add in music? [/font][/color][/size]