My Test Thread, No Posting

[ShutterByte]

"

Did I know everything when I was born? No.
Did I learn faster? Yes.
Yes, I did. I had to or you all would have killed me by now."





I was christened ⇛ Abilene Emily Daus. Don't call me by my full name, I prefer Abby.

Last time I checked, I was a ⇛ p***y.

Like rings on a tree.. ⇛ Eighty Four Years Young.

I was born on ⇛ November 2.

I try to stand tall. ⇛ I stopped inching at six foot one.

I'm not fat... ⇛ My body sits at one-hundred and fifty-nine pounds.

Bat those Golden Girls ⇛ Pretty damn Gold.

The top of my head is ⇛ Blond

I'm in alliance with ⇛ The Notorious Johnny Walker
I'm the... ⇛ The HalfBreed; I am not what I seem and I am more than you know.

Details, Details. ⇛ Look again and you might see the truth of what I am. Than again, ignorance is bliss.

Sensual • Protective • Honest • Martyr • Bold

Well, first they called me Ruthless.
I blow up just like everyone else does. ...Okay, maybe I blow up a little too easily; aside from my fellow companions. I have a short fuse; that little matchstick girl definitely has competition..the consequences of me getting angry most likely poses a greater threat to people, I'm part of the Terror 6, while little miss Pyro is part of the do-gooders clan. Yeah, I'm a pretty irritable person, most don't find me too admirable in tough situations. I have a stable sense of mind, its not that I'm crazy or anything..I've always been an angry kid. I'm not all talk though, I have the balls, the tongue, and the strength to back it up. Don't get on my blacklist, you'll be on it forever.

Then, they told me I was a little on the Protective side.
Honestly, define what you think of as cruel. So I'm a little too blunt for other people's taste..and yeah, I may be insensitive, and I won't always want it your way. Big effing deal. I'm playful in the sense of being cruel, I guess, at least from what I was told. I like to play with my prey before I attack it, and if it means from every aspect..whether it be with mind games..or just striking fear into them, then so be it..its more fun for me. I find death insignificant when it comes to evil people, just as long as it isn't my own. ..Or Johnny's for that matter. I take interest in people and their lives, if ruining a mission means me saving a five-year-old kid, I won't really have a problem doing it.

Honesty is my second language.
Some people are too sensitive, and some people can't take the truth. Don't be disillusioned by others. Good faith drips from my tongue at all times, and it factors in the way I speak to people. I'm not intentionally being mean, it all depends on how you take it. If I like you, I'll be playful and poke fun at random things that usually tends to bother you. I know my limits though, there's always a time for everything. I poke fun at whatever I want most of the time, and when you get me going, I'm relentless..its always fun to laugh at people's flaws and mistakes..even them being my own. I'm not exactly what you call normal but in a sense, I make mistakes like everyone else..what's the use in getting pissy and emotional over them? I have a sharp tongue that I tend to use often..and I usually snap back to every comment, not that what you say will bother me..I rarely get offended. I only get angry when someone ******** up, or starts acting stupid at the wrong time.

Finally..wait..what? So I'm a b Martyr now?
Yeeeahh...So I get a little money crazy sometimes..well, if I found it, its mine to do what I want with it, unless I'm ordered to share. I take pride in my work..after all, I started robbing banks at a young age. Boohoo, I didn't earn my dough fairly as a hard worker for the economy..but how else would I get filthy-stinking rich this quickly? My actions have earned me a pretty nice apartment, in which I'm able to share with my teammates. We're well off in the penthouse building..yet we could always have a little more...

Yeah..maybe a little Bold...
Well, I don't really get angry a lot..I don't really see a point in blowing a fuse over something stupid. I'm pretty care-free and easy-going for the most part, but if you happen to cross me the wrong way, my fuse becomes really tiny, its a pretty fair warning. Though my vengeful nature doesn't necessarily have to be triggered by having me boil over. If I get bothered by something tiny, I'll make sure I get my way with a smile on my face. However, if its something that really concerns me..like..lets say my life..or any of my comrades, then its ugly, and I'll think of the worst way to get back at you.



Strike a pose ⇛ I am the HalfBreed. I bend any form of metal at will; no matter how great the object is. I've moved the beams of towering buildings, down to the very foil used to bake my goods at home. I get a rush out of what I do, especially in knowing that I have advantage over many things around me. I have to say that sometimes, I think of myself as one of the strongest, which is why I love to be around Renee. I think of creative ways when it comes to dealing with people. Even if it means pulling the iron out of your bloodstream.

Don't even think of bringing that near me. ⇛ Well..I'm not one to usually admit to my weaknesses of all things...but I have this thing with time. I grow short of breath whenever I lift something too large, and when I strain myself I usually get pretty damn tired. See, I bend metal, and the iron in my blood starts whizzing up and down my veins, and its usually a rush, and the adrenaline always gets me pumped. However, I've never really needed to put my strength to the fullest, I'd probably move the beams of half of the city in the buildings if I did so. Like a kid on a sugar rush, whenever you're at your worst..there's sure to be a crash somewhere along the line. I can strain myself to full potential..however if I do it for too long, I'll black out for minutes, hours..sometimes even days.

A little bit more. ⇛ Family? or fighting?



Me, Myself, and I Don't Know. ⇛ I was born on a cold November day. Abilene, KA was a quiet town where everyone knew everyone, yet no one noticed when a woman was killed after giving birth to a child.



Like a puppet.. ⇛ ShutterByte
Posting Color ⇛ Gold.

[ShutterByte]

▇▇ ɢɩɴɢəʀ ♕ ＪＵＩＣＹ ＦＩＬＬＩＮＧ＂ the malicious ＂

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I'M FEELING KINDA STRANGE
CAUSE OF ALL THE THINGS YOU SAY
YEAH I KNOW, TOO GOOD TO BELIEVE
THIS PROBABLY WON'T CUT IT
Mood

Ginger walked down the sidewalk, the sounds of the city rumbling all around her; her long legs encased in tight ripped jeans, her pumps clacking almost cheerfully against the concrete. She was a vision of sensuality, a red corset peeked out from under her coat, hugging tightly at her curves and a skull necklace laying in the wells of her collarbones. Her feminine muscles rippled as she strode around a street corner, a lazy confidence in her motions. Her long chocolate and honey hued hair bounced against her back, her clear blue eyes shadowed by her thick and long lashes. Anyone seeing her would think she was a Latin bombshell on her way to some club to party. They'd be half right. First of all, she was half Brazilian, and second, she was dangerous. Not, 'oh no, that chick is packing mace in her purse'. No, she was dangerous because the corner of her mouth was still stained with blood, her eyes gleamed gold hued under bright lights, she could rip a person into to two and chew through a femur bone like it was butter. And all the while, she would revel in the act of consuming flesh, of tearing limbs from bodies and the fear that had shined in her prey's eyes before they dimmed in death. She smirked wide, than let her tongue curl outside of her mouth, swiping at the little bit of blood that clung there before rolling it around in her mouth like a fine wine. The thrill of the hunt still sluiced through her veins, her cheeks flushed with post-excitement and sated hunger. Her gait had an almost jovial skip to it, she was totally in her element.

Steam billowed out in a cloud passed her parted lips as she exhaled a sigh of content, pleased with how her day had gone. Though as she heard footsteps behind her and smelled the stink of alcohol, sweat and a**, she knew that her day wasn't over.

"Hey, puta," Ginger turned around to find herself staring at three men, each looking the same mexicano gang-banger as the next; her Spanish was very good, though her native language was Portuguese, "der' is no way a flaco pollo like you shouldn't be out alone by yourself, perra caliente. You should be partyin' wit us."

"Look, pinchero," she sneered, raising her chin in a cocky manner, her eye's resting heavily on the guy talking, though watching the other two guys out of her peripherals, "you can go tornillo de un árbol for all I care. If you even touch me, I'll tear you a new hole to bleed out of."

She watched as all of them pulled out switchblades and knew that they had planned to rape her even if she had agreed to go with them anyways. Ginger smirked as her eyes burned brightly with rage. With scorn. With contempt. With excitement.

She watched as cholo #1 turned towards the new guy and Ginger saw her chance. She stepped forward, kicking him square in the chest, hard. He flopped backwards over a trashcan, his arms pinwheeling in the air. Cholo #2 came at her with his switchblade, aiming for her face; she ducked his knife, cupping his elbow and twisting it upwards. A resounding snap, followed by a scream and Ginger had his knife, quickly palming it as Cholo #3 cut at her stomach. She jumped back, and inhaled deeply, feeling the blade cut through her coat, barely breezing passed her corset. Rage bubbled through her body as she bared her teeth in an almost animalistic way, kicking Cholo #3 in his kneecap, breaking bone. He screamed and went to grab his leg, but not before Ginger slammed the switchblade into his gut, twisting it sharply, blood gushing out. She jerked out the blade, letting him fall to the ground and she took a step back, surveying the agony in front of her. She smirked widely, flipping the switchblade several times before flicking it closed. She shoved it and her hands into her coat pockets and walked away just as her cell phone rang. She pulled it out and looked down at the glowing screen, seeing the text Viva had sent.

Meet @ Starbucks . I'm not waiting long. She rolled her eyes and strode away from the carnage she had wrought, sniffing the crisp cold air and finding her sister's scent. She followed it and ended up in front of a Starbucks. She rapped her knuckles against the glass, waving bloodied fingers at her half-sister, not caring that she could frighten anyone as a vicious smile curling on her lips. Damn, tonight felt like it had violent possibilities.



Touch Me, I Dare You

[ShutterByte]

т ʜ εxxs т ε ɑ ɗ ғ ɑ s т
"This one takes his/her job very seriously and it more of the "all work and no play" type of person. The world is so black and white her, that she tends to ignore the gray areas. Though with the way the world is going, she might have to change her mind. Her temper, while long suffering, when she hits her breaking point, is explosive and uninhibited. Her heart is big and tends to put her foot in her mouth and intervene in situations without knowing the circumstances. She doesn't take a lot of things to heart, straight forward, though not taking crap either, tending to walk away rather than let a fight ensue and suck her in." Read More...

ShutterByte

[ShutterByte]

▇▇ ɢɩɴɢəʀ ♕ ＪＵＩＣＹ ＦＩＬＬＩＮＧ＂ the malicious ＂

----------------------------------------

I'M FEELING KINDA STRANGE
CAUSE OF ALL THE THINGS YOU SAY
YEAH I KNOW, TOO GOOD TO BELIEVE
THIS PROBABLY WON'T CUT IT
Mood

Ginger calmly watched as Viva snatched her hand to get a good whiff of the blood that coated it, a bit of a thrill skittered over Ginger's skin at the animalistic exchange of scent. Viva pulled back to fix her own clothing and Ginger let a s**t-eating grin stretching her lips, knowing that Viva was holding herself back from trying to adjust Ginger's clothes. She fingered the little slashed hole in her coat and ran curled fingers through her long tresses before lifting her hand and licking at her bloodied fingers.

"Oh, you know, just walking down the street and I get harassed," her accent rolling her r's more than usual in her lack of attention; flashing a short bright smirk in her hurry. Her feminine muscles rippled lightly, her neck and collarbone glowing with a dark natural tan, standing out starkly against her bright red top. She was born in Brazil, never really knowing who her father was until her mother's untimely death when she was five years old. She was than taken under the wing of her father, and after that, no one knows. Though it's said that her father encouraged her madness, experimenting with her mental state to the point of near catatonic asphyxiation. She later ran away, but came back under the guise of compliance, willingly entering this experimentation. She actually felt excitement at the thought of having a human, like she owned it.

Ginger glanced around, noticing a club to the side, the thrumming of music reaching her ears and she sniffed the air, smelling body heat, sweat, cologne and body splash. Her attention was taken and she rudely left her sister standing on the sidewalk as she stepped off it, heading towards the throbbing club, reading the name of it in bright lights, Ibizia. She pursed her lips into a sultry moue as she trailed up the line and batted her lashes at the bouncer at the entrance, shifting her coat open a bit to flash cocoa skin. Even behind his shades, she could see his eyes widen with appreciation and knew that she was in. He smiled perverted admiration. She and her sister's where known for their beauty and had always used it accordingly, no matter what. It was a weapon that was easily used and this situation was no different. Ginger arched a brow high and strode inside, instinctively knowing that her sister would follow her inside. Her eyes gleamed golden as the strobe lights hit them, walking over to the bar, she straddled a bar stool and waved the bartender over. She tugged her coat off and laid it on the counter, stretching her arms in the air, muscles rippling with ease,



Touch Me, I Dare You

[ShutterByte]

LenoreD'aubigne

"Wealth stays with us a little moment if at all: only our characters are steadfast, not our gold."

◆ ♢ ◆xxxxxт ʜ εxx s т ε ɑ ɗ ғ ɑ s т
◆ ♢ ◆xxxxxA Changeling.

They call me ◆ ◆ Lenny
I am a ◆ ◆ woman, through and though.
I am ◆ ◆ One hundred and three years old, but looks twenty-five.
I love ◆ ◆ all kinds of men.

Wait, I can do that? ◆ ◆ Glamoring means she can magically alter her own appearance as seen by others when in close contact; changing the color (or length) of her hair, skin or eyes, as well as changing little feature of her face. This can include a type of invisibility, to where people divert their gaze from where she's standing or if they manage to look at her, see only large shadows. Immortality; she doesn't age anymore, but can die like anyone else.

Is able to use any smooth surface, such as a bowl of liquid, a pond, or a crystal for scrying to find a lost object or person, though most of the time, the visions are fuzzy or lack clarity. Can see through supernatural type of illusions and fay creatures. Knows a wealth of information about history and has supreme fighting skills in martial arts as well as street/dirty fighting.
Don't mess with me! ◆ ◆ Has a photographic memory, can unwrap a Starburst with her tongue, is deft at foraging for food and can track a person through a blizzard with only a stick, a bowl of water and a stone. She learned mixed martial arts, becoming proficient and distinguished in Capoeira, Jujitsu, Basic Military Hand to Hand Combat through a form of Marine Corps Martial Arts Program (MCMAP) and Kick Boxing. She can also handle M16 Assault rifle, M9 pistol, and Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun. She can speak fifteen languages including English, making her a proficient linguist, but tends to stick with French, even having a bit of an accent still.
Well, that sucks. ◆ ◆ Iron, it burns her flesh like a hot brand would to someone else, searing through her skin like a hot knife through butter. Can't have children for the fact that it might be stolen, or taken from her. Her blood is a dark-ish blue color, showing her supernatural existence quite easily. She's not inhumanly fast or strong, in fact she's just average in her speed and force, though has more dexterity and control from experience. No matter how much food she devours, she still wants more, yet remains thin as ever.

Susceptible to blows to her head or body like anyone else, as well as to the elements like fire, water, lack of oxygen, etc, resulting in death. Has a very overpowering need for sugar, many times in the form of honey. Dislikes what she is, but appreciates the gifts that enable her to survive. Allergic to the basic form of rock salt, though can consume low doses of it in food. Fears being caught by The Wild Hunt.[***]

If you're blind, then you should know ◆ ♢ ◆ She is an even 6 feet tall', 130 pounds of womanly curves and tight muscle, a thin scar over her left eyebrow, a brand like burn on her right thigh, tattoos on her left and right index fingers, and noticeably pointed ears. She a lithe and slender woman with short, bouncy ginger-red hair, looking most men in the eyes because of her tall height. Legs that seem to go on for miles, and soft palms with long nimble fingers. Bright straight green eyes, smooth and pale skin, almost like porcelain, untouched by blemishes other than her scars.

She is toned in muscle, yet manages to keep a feminine curve to her body, from the regal arch of her back to the wideness of her hips. She looks like any other semi-pretty girl, her features, while nice aren't shockingly beautiful, what with a wide mouth and really high cheekbones that gives her a fay-like appearance. There is a regal and authoritative air of good breeding about her that was catching more attention than her looks would, her stance and the way she walks was attention-getting. She always looked like she walked around with a purpose, even if she didn't.

My story starts out like this ◆ ♢ ◆ Lenore was born three years before the Old Gray Lady, or Eiffel Tower, was built in a moderate sized city in Champagne-Ardenne, France, just along the Ardennes forest range and heavy forests. Her parents where well to do merchants that dealt in coal and textile trade. She was raised without a want for anything, given the basics of food, shelter, and schooling. Her parents, while distant from her, where proud of her rapid intelligence. She got good marks and at the age of ten, was a couple grades passed her age group. She was encouraged to take extra curricular studies like different languages, choir, music, dance, and as a special treat, swimming lessons.

Growing up, Lenore was known as the quiet little genius, mainly ignored because of her oddness and out of place eccentricity, and never really made any friends, which in fact pleased her parents since they wanted her making acquaintances with their merchant contacts. They wanted to have her take over after they retired, broadening the business into more of a world wide conglomerate. She was cold and aloof, taking no interest in friends or family, though never declining or being obstinate to her parent's orders. She was well on her way, even at the age of fourteen, her parents planned out her life, even going so far as betrothing her to a well known lawyer, a older man of fifty. It was at the peak of her parent's plans when Lenore woke up one night, the sounds of hoofs thundering outside of her window. She ran out of her room into the hallway to see her parents screaming and yelling outside the front door at a shadowed and looming figure atop a horse.

They were killed instantly as the horse trampled them. Lenore escaped, running through the Ardennes forest before getting picked up by a stranger in a car. It was later in her life that she found out what her parents, or who she thought where her parents, had done through the help of a kind supernatural hunter. They had traded there real child for a better one, wanting a child with a more promising future. So they received a Changeling, a fay in the guise of a human, Lenore. Though the Seelie and Unseelie courts wanted her back, reasons unknown, thus when her parents fought with the Leader of the Wild Hunt, they were killed. She was taken under the wing of the hunter, learning what he knew and learning by experience as well. She found that she didn't really age and after the hunter died, she took to hiding and wandering alone. When she got wind of a facility that dealt with supernatural events, and group they where forming, the Elites - a special operations team that was created for the sole purpose of keeping anyone from disrupting the balance between humans and non-humans. She joined as soon as she was able, taking well to everyone on the team, yet keeping a professional distance and not letting personal feelings dilute her judgment even at the risk of being secluded.

"A Changeling is a being in West European folklore and folk religion, typically described as the offspring of a fairy, troll, elf or other legendary creature that has been secretly left in the place of a human child. The human child would than be taken: to act as a servant, for love of a human child, or malice, or to be spoiled, or eaten."

I have issues ◆ ♢ ◆ She is diligent, determined, stubborn and hardened by life. The world is so black and white her, that she tends to ignore the gray areas. Though with the way the world is going, she might have to change her mind. Her temper, while long suffering, when she hits her breaking point, is explosive and uninhibited. Her heart is big and tends to put her foot in her mouth and intervene in situations without knowing the circumstances.

She tends to be hard headed, but will listen to advice, and opinions; she delegates to be as humble as she can be. She's pretty straight laced, determined, a bit suicidal when it comes to saving people, hard working, supernaturally aware, she notices things people don't, fierce, commitment-phobic, compassionate, and bluntly honest. She doesn't take a lot of things to heart, straight forward, though not taking crap either, tending to walk away rather than let a fight ensue.

Take a bow ◆ ♢ ◆ ShutterByte

[ShutterByte]

xxxxxxxxxxxx. _________ » Ρσwεr ❀ is τhατ ѡhατ { ӌσu'ɾҽ αғτҽɾ } ?

I like you so much better when you smile to mexo x xx { ` ℓєиσяє │ ∂'αυɓιgиє ` }

ℓσσиy ℓєииy

Her legs buckled under her as her feet hit gravel and sliding mud; falling forward, her palm skinned themselves as they found purchase on a tree limb. She scrambled into a run as the dogs started barking, her mussed hair plastered by rain to her skull. Vapor poured out passed her lips in clouds, her legs pumping under her, propelling her into a blur. The thundering crash of hoofs echoed, wood splintering off a tree after she sprinted by it as if by some invisible force; than there was screaming and shouts several yards behind her, crying for capture, not death. She darted down a slippery slope, her pupils expanding into opaque fear and ebony madness around her moss hued irises. She slid and leaped, landing in a roll, than back up her feet. Low hanging wet branches slapped and scraped at her hollowed cheeks and bare arms; a thin, nighttime gown hung off of lanky body. She paused and lifted her head, her eyes swiveling around before she dodged to the side, several arrows embedding themselves into a tree, right by where her head had been. A hulking man came at her, dwarfing her by a hundred pounds; her tiny hands formed knotted fists and ducked when he attacked her, a snarling growl erupting passed her curled lips. Her movements where more erratic than his, moving at the last second when he pressed forward, her eyes narrowed into focused slivers. He twisted his hips and came at her with a sweeping kick; it caught her in the gut, but all she did was let out a grunt and grabbed him tightly by his ankle. His eyes widened before moving to kick her with his other leg. Too late was his reaction when she kicked him in the groin, and pushed forward, knocking him into tree. He instinctively curled inwards. Cupping himself, she attacked him, her coiled fists striking him with deadly accuracy striking him four times in his temple, bone hitting bone before he went limp. She towered over him, her breath coming out in shuddering gasps. The howls of dogs woke her up and she was moving again, her bare feet sinking into mud and leaves; the sky was pinkening from night’s gloom to day’s wake. She reached a wall of stone, a sheet of sheer, hard consolidated mineral. She grabbed at footholds, nails filling with dirt as her fingers curled tightly. She ascended clumsily, but quickly, reaching the top, leaping and hooking her fingers over the side; rolling onto level ground. She dragged herself to her feet, her heart beating a furious tattoo against her.

Her legs kept going, her bright eyes blinking rapidly as sweat dripped down her face and chin. She inhaled in heaves, following a path only she seemed to know; twisting and turning unpredictably. Shouting and barking sounded closer, and her breathing escalated with panic, desperation fueling adrenaline into her body. Foliage and grassroots kicked up around her head as arrows rang through the air; dogs leaped out, barbing at her heels. Her lungs burned with over worked exertion; gingery hair grew warm in shade as the first ray from the rising sun hit it. Tears of desperation built at the corners of her eyes as the dogs trailed back, but the shots became more frequent and she started to feel the frictional burns of them passing by her skin, pushing herself to go faster. The sounds of coursing water became abundant and as she rounded a bend, she found herself on a sheer cliff. Thirty stories of a steep descent of water that melded into torrid rapids, sharp and jagged rocks littering the topography. She never paused, inhaling deeply, tucking her chin into her chest, and ignoring a loud voice over the crashing thunder of the water as they called her name. She jumped feet first, crossing her arms over her chest, and her hair blinding her as she descended, feeling a sense of weightlessness before crashing downwards, the air roaring passed her ears. She plummeted, than collided with liquid instability. Her red head bobbed up once before disappearing into the churning white turbulence of the falls.

Under the water, her body smacked rock after rock, several of her fingernails tearing off as she tried to grab onto the slippery surfaces. The rapids dragged her around and under, she barely had a moment to push her head out of the water to take a breath before she was yanked back under. The whitewater hauled her farther and farther down the river until her thin arm flailed out, grabbing some overgrowth, winding tight around the sessile plant. Her other hand grabbed on, than she drew herself with difficulty out even as the water tried to suck her back in. She clawed at soft earth, pressing herself against the dirt, breathing in it's course scent filling her senses. She crawled up the bank and leaned up against a tree, her legs wobbling as she stood; the nightgown sticking to her like a second skin and her hair flat against her skull. She heaved for breath, and started into a fast and loping gait. She waded through thick foliage and glanced around. Her pace quickened until she was in a full-blown sprint. She pushed aside low hanging branches and soon stepped onto to a paved dirt. The morning light revealed a coarse dirt road, wheel divots lay in the dry soil. Her head whipped around, looking around with a look of despair creeping on her dirtied face. She stumbled with blackened feet down the road, wrapping her arms around her thinly clad body, wandering for a few yards, aimlessly. The sputtering cough of a car made her jump and whisk around, headlights on a car making the hollowness of her cheeks and the wideness of her large green eyes stick out starkly.

An Oldsmobile slid around from some bushes and drove down the road. She lifted a hand, shielding her eyes against the light and squinting to see better. The car door opened and a tall, curly, mop headed older man stepped out. He waved a hand in the air, a concerned and hurried look on his face. She hesitated, than jogged over to the car, water dripping a trail behind her.

x x x x x x x xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

mood mood mood mood mood!Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x xSound of their breath fades with the light x ●
I like you so much better when you smile to me ~ ! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I think about the loveless fascination

[ShutterByte]

▇▇ ɢɩɴɢəʀ ♕ ＪＵＩＣＹ ＦＩＬＬＩＮＧ＂ the malicious ＂

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I'M FEELING KINDA STRANGE
CAUSE OF ALL THE THINGS YOU SAY
YEAH I KNOW, TOO GOOD TO BELIEVE
THIS PROBABLY WON'T CUT IT
Mood

Ginger laughed loudly, definitely flashing eyeteeth this time and catching the attention of several men. She took another sip of root beer, oblivious to the stares and flicked a blood flecked finger sharply against Hush's nose in retaliation like they where just little kits again. Except if you looked close, you could see the tightness in her smile and a glaze of insanity in her gaze. Her fingers contracted around the perspiring glass of the bottle, almost gripping it to breaking point before she reined herself in, making herself realize that Hush wasn't challenging her dominance or position, as if they where really a pack of wolves, mindless beasts, and not Lycans. Wolves with brains.

And though she didn't have much of a conscience when it came to killing, she did kill for a good reason, or at least a good reason to her muddled brain. She spoke well, but if she ever spoke her mind, it would shock people at it's primal and savage simplicity; so straight forward with decisions that sometimes she had to strain herself to hold back from striking out, and censor what she had meant to say to what she should say. It was hard, but right now was not the right time to show her true colors, not if she wanted what she wanted to happen to happen. It was very confusing, but eventually, she'd get what she came back for, and if anyone got in her way, whom ever they where, would die. No matter what,

"And yet, really too soon, cadela," she replied, switching over to Portuguese, knowing that only she could speak it; she stifled a growl that seemed to try to creep up her throat, instead she chugged the rest of her drink, her throat contracting as she gulped it down, ignoring the lust filled sighs that seemed to permeate from the several people around them, men and women; when Lexi joined them, Ginger could already feel her skin crawling with discomfort at the thought of having to face all her sisters, though she was happy that her sisters knew better than to ask personal questions of her, "I know as much as you Lexi, figure we just snatch up a man and take him over to the cabin. From there, I'm sure our...father," Ginger spat that word out like a foul curse, her lips twisting in disgust before dropping into a cold frown, "will tell us what will happen next."



Touch Me, I Dare You

[ShutterByte]

Eva
ɪ'm scared to even l o v e ʏou
xxxxxxxxx butifIaskedtowouldyousaveme? ♥
x x x x x x x x x x▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

A hero is no braver than any ordinary person, but they are brave five minutes longer.

Eva grit her teeth as the sides of the collapsed Sentinel that she and mini-Michael where hiding behind was beginning to dwindle as the blasts tore at the metal, bits of it flying around. She crouched over mini Michael's body, protecting his little body, tugging him farther under the warped over piece of metal. Dust and debris rained down on them, Eva's eyes protected by her sunglasses, yet she blinked her eyes rapidly anyways. A small whiny groan had her looking down, seeing Michael starting to wake up. Eva paled, but lifted the young kid up, cradling him in her arms.

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Help, I'm alive, my heart
keeps beating like a hammer
Hard to be soft
Tough to be tender
If you're still alive
My regrets are few
If my life is mine
What shouldn't I do?

[ShutterByte]

▇▇ ɢɩɴɢəʀ ♕ ＪＵＩＣＹ ＦＩＬＬＩＮＧ＂ the malicious ＂

----------------------------------------

I'M FEELING KINDA STRANGE
CAUSE OF ALL THE THINGS YOU SAY
YEAH I KNOW, TOO GOOD TO BELIEVE
THIS PROBABLY WON'T CUT IT
Mood

The pulsing rhythm of the music was what made them happy, made them feel safe if not a bit feral. The walls that surrounded the large pack of people throbbed to the edge of collapsing from the music that bellowed from the speakers. Giant black barred speakers in every corner shook from its bass and quaked with the luscious voice of the singer. Even over the roars and hollers of them all, their bodies never stopped moving, never stopped gyrating against each other. The music began to pick up dangerously as drums began to beat now. Ginger was only too happy to saunter onto the dance floor, though she went her own way; she liked to hunt alone. Her hips began to sway from side to side to the beat of the tempo, her feet resisting the temptation of tapping to the beat. She ran her fingers through her long hair, flicking it over her shoulders and trailed her hands over her supple curves.

She rolled her hips, smiling sensually at several prospective men, or 'fresh meat' as her mind labeled them. Before she could choose one, an eager, and cologne rank man sidled up next to her, placing a hand lightly over the small of her back, trying to draw her in close. He leaned his head downwards, whispering in her ear, his lips brushing the skin below her earlobe. She tried not to flinch when she realized he was smelling her, breathing in her scent as he spoke in hushed and heated tones. She pressed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back; making him stumble back. Her stomach clenched in discomfort and desire, the air filled with pheromones, cloying lust; all of it fogging everyone 's mind. Her fingernails cut deeply into the flesh of her palms, blood swelling lightly as her eyes switched back and forth between clear blue and startling honeycomb. It was only because of these conflicting emotions that she didn't tear him limb from limb. The man she shoved back didn't notice, cursing as he caught himself from falling and went to tear her a new one. But he was too late and she disappeared into the convulsing crowd.



Touch Me, I Dare You

[ShutterByte]

Mary Alice Brandon Cullen

Basics

My Name is: Mary Alice Brandon Cullen
Who Am I?: Vampire
The best day of the year: Birthday
They call me: Alice
Count the candles: 109 years old
Look down there: Female
They turn me on: Straight

Physical Features
Look at my locks: Black
Look into my eyes: Golden/black
Am I taller or shorter: 4'10"
I've been punctured: None
I've been inked: None
I've been hurt: Crescent-shaped scars
on the inside of her
arms and wrists.

Who I am Behind the looks

A little bit about me:
Alice Cullen (born Mary Alice Brandon) is the adopted daughter of Carlisle and Esme, adoptive sister of Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett, and wife of Jasper. Alice's early history is very vague, as she remembers nothing of her human life and woke up alone as a vampire. It is eventually revealed that she was born around 1901 in Biloxi, Mississippi, and was kept in an asylum because she had premonitions. Alice was changed by an old vampire who worked at the asylum in order to protect her from James, a tracker vampire who was hunting her. After doing some research, Alice found her grave and discovered that the date on her tombstone matched the date of her admission to the asylum. Through her research she additionally discovered that she had a little sister named Cynthia, and that Cynthia's daughter, Alice's niece, was still alive in Biloxi.

Alice, who proves to be an adept fighter, joins in the fight to destroy a group of rampaging newborn vampires, created by Victoria in an effort to take revenge on Edward. she is the first to find out about Edward and Bella's engagement. After planning the wedding, Alice acts as Bella's maid of honor at her wedding and helps with Renesmee until leaving to search out a crossbreed after the Volturi plan to destroy Renesmee, believing her to be an immortal child. Alice is unsuccessful in changing their minds, and the Volturi, seeing them as a threat and using that as an excuse, attack them. After being taken as a prisoner, she had suffered greatly under the hand of Aro, forced time and again to see further and further into the future as well as seeing her husband, Jasper Whitlock, being starved of blood if she didn't comply with anything that was asked of her. Several times, she fed Jasper herself, several crescent shaped scars littering her wrists and insides of her arms.

Alice is described as being petite and pixie-like at 4'10", with a graceful gait and hair that is short, spiky, and black. Her special ability is to see the future, an enhanced version of her ability to have premonitions as a human. However, her ability is limited; she is only able to see the outcome of a decision once it is made. Due to this, decisions made in the spur of the moment can not be foreseen. Alice can see futures involving humans and vampires, though is unable to see the futures of werewolves or half-breeds, such as Renesmee.

Alice theorizes that she can see vampires very clearly because she is one, can see humans somewhat less clearly because she was one, and cannot see werewolves or half-breeds because she has never been one.
Hold up. Gimme:
Baseball
Bear
Jasper
Eating Animals
Making things better than predicted

Ew:
Volturi
Last season outfits
Rabbits
Jerks
Going "blind"
New borns
Eating humans
Aro
Starvation

Shh they can't know:
When under the control of the Volturi, she did things that
she is not proud of, though no one, but Jasper knows about
it. She's more withdrawn and reclusive.

My Puppeteer: ShutterByte

[ShutterByte]

A l i c e -- C u l l e nxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

M y mind's frustration weighs
Heavier than failure.
Alas, my heart and I
Know not how to e n d u r e.

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A l a s, my existence lives
In the valley of the shadow of death.
Peace has escaped my remembrance;
Delight, t o o.