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EXIII Round 1: SomethingAs Rowan followed Keira out, Hawkins stared after them for a moment, frozen in shock that two of the people she’s long written about, visualized in her mind were actually there, she spoke to them, touched Rowan and they were so real, questions buzzed around in her mind most asking how? Shaking herself out of it, Hawkins grabbed her hammer and followed the two out smiling as she noticed Rowan waiting for her to catch up. As the trio walked about the city, Hawkins noted it was almost like being in Los Angeles or even Las Vegas, Sin City in its glory, the neon lights, rundown buildings, huge structures and people, creatures and souls of all walks of life or is it death? Wandering about.
Hawkins clutched her hammer closer to her body as she walked with Rowan and Keira through the streets of Nothing. Keira analyzed every building, every person they passed, noting possible dangers and assessing if there were any immediate threats. “So Hawkins was it?” she glanced to the you
Clan Wavecrashers Clan Leader
Name: Artemisia "Art" or "Ally" King.
Height:5 ft. 8
Weight: 130 lbs
Weapons and abilities: A very skilled water magi, able to create spheres of water or water spouts, and like her namesake is a naval commander able to understand the many 'moods' of the ocean. Art wields a trident that can be disguised as a surfboard.
Description: long dark brown hair and ocean blue eyes. She usually wears https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&biw=1536&bih=741&site=imghp&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=300+rise+of+an+empire+artemisia&oq=300+rise+of+an+empire+a&gs_l=img.1.0.0l10.97565.105385.0.1075184.108.40.206.220.127.116.11.1019.0j7j1.8.0....0...1c.1.48.img..3.20.1167.VBuxmycdvGQ#facrc=_&imgdii=_&imgrc=qeieF9-NgTBoQM%253A%3BeZyn-IRui47QhM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fww1.hdnux.com%252Fphotos%252F26%252F64%252F16%252F5981112%252F3%252F628x471.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.sfgate.com%252Fmovies%252Farticle%252F300-Rise-of-an-Empire-review-Not-a-seq
EX III Audtion: Hammer TimeHammer Time
High above the city of London, perched up on a roof sat a petite young woman, her pale skin illuminated by the moon light, her raven hair flowing with the wind and her piercing blue grey eyes fixed on the movements of the security guards patrolling the museum just a few buildings away. She grinned wolfishly as she timed their movements to near perfection at least in her mind and she pulled out a stop watch. “Eight minutes and forty five seconds, thinks she can beat my record now does she? I’ll be done in eight flat…damn that woman for challenging me.” She chuckled as she jumped from her perch, landing gracefully on the roof below.
The woman pocketed her watch once again, preparing to jump to her destination as her phone vibrated. “Whoever it is, this best be good or I’ll be highly unhappy…” She answered icily, tapping her foot in impatience. “Gran I know you’re busy but we really need you back at the house.
ColorRed: Anger, rage, and fury course through me. I am ready to strike, I will strike and mercy shall be lost. I will push back harder, yell no scream louder and you will know my wrath.
Blue: Calm, serenity, protection and peace. I’m relaxed, more perceptive and willing to listen. My loyalty is steadfast and I will protect what I hold dear.
Black: Darkness, silence, ‘evil’. The dark is consuming, the silence nearly breaks me and you label me as evil. Just because someone stumbles and falls doesn’t mean they have lost their way, you just walked away when I needed your guidance the most.
Purple: Regal, power, the crown upon my head. I regained my crown, my voice and have regained the power that was lost to me so long ago.
White: Pure, unyielding, light and acceptance. I finally accepted myself and walk in both shadow and light. My resolve unwavering and I shall not yield in times of crisis or hardship. Hope is pure and I continue to hope, to believe there is always so
EX III: The NegotiatorDEMOGRAPHICS
Name: Rowan Black McCall
Species: Wolven (type of werewolf immune to effects of the moon, can change at will),
Primary Language: English
Height: 6' 2”
Weight: Average, healthy
Build: Athletic and muscular
Hair: Dark brown, a bit shaggy.
Eyes: blue green, will flash silver for wolf side.
Clothes: Black button up, jeans, and combat boots.
Demeanor: Rowan is a very calm and laid back kind of guy. He’s very patient and will wait things out before interfering, stepping in or finishing something. He’s a true gentleman and can be seen often opening the doors for ladies, acting respectful and actually listening.
Speech patterns: He’s usually very polite to those he doesn’t know or are in high standing, he can be very casual as well though. He chooses his words carefully more often than not. Has a Manchester accent with a slight Scottish undertone he picked up from his grandfather.
EXIII: The GrifterDEMOGRAPHICS
Name: Keira Black
Age: 200? Appears 24
Species: Wolven (type of werewolf immune to effects of the moon, can change at will in other words)
Primary Language: English
Height: 5' 4”
Weight: Average to slightly under weight
Build: Athletic and skinny, subtle hourglass with size C bust
Hair: Black, long and straight going to her mid back
Eyes: blue gray, will flash yellow for her wolf side
Clothes: White tank top, black leather jacket, dark skinny jeans, combat boots, and crescent moon shaped necklace.
Demeanor: Snarky, sarcastic, brooding, Keira is the type to appear calm however on the inside is most likely either figuring out how to kill you, trying to read you, or tuning you out. She’s confident and usually smirking, almost always reading your body language and head strong.
Speech patterns: She’ll be as polite as she feels like other than that she usually speaks what she means. She can however say wha
EXIII The WriterDEMOGRAPHICS
Primary Language: English
Height: 5' 1”
Build: slight hourglass, muscular
Skin: slight tan
Hair: Brown, down to the shoulder blades, slightly wavey but mostly straight
Eyes: brown, varies between light and dark.
Clothes: was taken wearing a black tank top, skinny jeans, converse shoes. Hair down most likely, wearing evanescence necklace and of course underwear.
Demeanor: Usually quiet and has a serious face. Keeps a relaxed posture or stance and smirks more often than not.
Speech patterns: Bit quiet, will switch between English, Scottish, Australian and regular Californian accent. Picks words carefully most the time.
Overview: When around people I don’t know I can come off as quiet but when I do know you I still am, just will more often crack jokes and sarcastic remarks. I’m, loyal to a fault and would jump in front of a bus for anyon
How to Piss Off Sam Black McCall1) Exist
2) Remind her of her mother Keira.
4) Look at her funny. (any look can set her off)
5) Botch a job (she's a thief and would not take kindly to any screw ups)
6) Hurt her sons Rowan and Jason or her sister Amy
8) Call her insane, crazy, stupid, botch etc (she might agree but then she might kill you so good luck~)
9) Telling her no or she can't.
How to Piss Off Keira Black1) Call her Kestrel. This is guaranteed to piss her off instantly.
2) Bring up her childhood, her mother or her father. Again almost instant reaction
3) Bring up her bloodline or family history
4) Threaten her family and loved ones.
5) Call her a mutt, dog or any form of making fun of the fact she's Wolven. (especially not advised to call her England's lap dog or the Queen's bitch...baaad idea)
6) Try to take away her freedom.
7) Try telling her what to do. She has issues with most authority.
8) Hurt, physically or emotionally anyone she cares about.
9) Flirt with someone else (only if she's romantically involved with that person)
10) Underestimate her.
11) Betray her in anyway.
12) Shoot her in the head
The woman from ParisI took much pleasure in losing my way in Paris' morbid and dangerous streets,
Where sole the high arrogant walls whispered me words I was able to understand,
These stretches of granite trapped me like the grave I've always dreamt of.
The Ladies' ice-cold and distant beauty inebriated me with all the bitterness of temptation;
Under a dirty, driving rain, I gazed at them and suffered
While the parisian mist permeated on my heart its burning frostbites,
And hearses of madness couldn't stop from parading through my mind.
"Veux-tu voir la face cachée de Paris ?" - A slender voice dragged me out of darkness
The Seine flowed, flowed, flowed...And stopped.
Her voice, like a carillon, announced Summer's return,
The breeze blew the rain, the sun revived these leaves dead for centuries,
As if she saved me from a waking nightmare.
"Je t'en prie, ne me regarde pas comme ça..." - An embarrassed smiled was being painted on her magenta cheeks
That was her, th
stupid love poems for stupid boys.he was the
smoke in my
saved for when
i'm so lonely
that i cannot
but the problem
with giving your
heart to a boy
with a pack of
for ribs is that
he will want your
well– and after
all that blood and
blue lip kisses,
he will leave you
with a coughing
lighter and a
burnt tongue (but
it's really a great
Soles (Forest Girl)Soles (Forest Girl)
i didn’t believe in carving initials into trees.
i always told you that was corny to me.
i told you i was a city boy,
comfortable in car drafts
and gleaming lights
that dilute natural shine.
to the sight of airplanes,
police cars and helicopters
than anything else.
but you dreamed of wings
so much bigger than aspect ratio,
so much wider.
you were higher.
so that day you took me there,
i knew i was out of my element.
your forest stories teased me;
sitting on the edge of your shoe soles.
and that riverbank that you tiptoed on.
little smirk always flashing your white pearls
when you were whisking through this place.
holding my hand in a tight grip
as you gave me a tour of your hidden burrow.
i had never been so in--
and out of place before.
the atmosphere was brisk
glancing the hairs on my neck,
goosebumps rising on my skin
as i swore feathers fell from your shoulders.
purple streaks nuzzle orange bands
that hold together golden twines
Parchment ThinYou left pencil lead bruises
smudged on my thin ivory skin,
your harsh fingers tracing the lace
of the baby doll lingerie
you pasted to my curves.
The angel wings
tied with tape around my shoulders
(the missing piece of innocence
you thought you could borrow)
weighed me down;
with flat eyes
and marker-blotted lips,
I watched you admire your handiwork.
A nimble flourish of knuckles later,
you slipped me between the plastic
of your photo album
and left my name dripping ink
in the corner--
just another parchment doll
too fragile for holding.
homesick for childhoodshe was a carefree little girl
with smiles hidden deep down
in her pockets, and she'd only
give them out to the most deserving.
when the quarter hour of her life
struck, however, things changed.
her world was painted black
on accident, millions of shades
turned ashy due to a sickness
that breeds on those empty
spaces between words.
she was dropped into summer
covered in homemade scars,
and with summer, her innocence
was eaten away.
pinned to a bed
like prey, she watched herself
consumed into another
(this world is the 7 a.m. frost
left on winter windows.
and it scares me)
The Cracks Of RealityI traced the tips of my fingers over her porcelain
Felt the skin raise in bumps of sensation.
My mouth fit so well into the crook of her neck
And as her her eyes closed, her breathing shaky,
I found myself swallowing and my heart beating twice as fast.
As her hips rolled into me, as her nails clenched into the sheets,
She told me once more that she loved me, and I assured her I felt the same.
But then reality came, settling into the cracks of my fantasies.
And she slipped from my fingers.
And I was alone.
the days spent on the front stepsevery time you rip the lid off
the shell of styrofoam
questions your motives.
every secret you whisper into her naphthalene
stays there. it dies a little
as protein is scrambled. home is not a place.
her curve is ejected
as unidentified. it is bile
rolling back, the sheet of ebbing tide.
you always speak of horses
armoured, whisky clattering on their breath,
kingdoms burning and knights
riding off into the valley of deep sleep
you always speak of ships
leaving, pearly cord
as a farewell extending from coast
to hull forming an image of crying Mary
it shines in front of you
it calls out your name
Goldfish OriginsGoldfish Origins
little feet patter against hardwood,
windows painted by jet clouds
adorned with light studs like earrings
as the children squeal and run,
swimming in and out every room
like a school of fish.
their arms play fins
and their lungs play gills
as time is laid to rest
with each step.
but as some younglings glide
in the waters of childish antics,
there is one that has strayed from class;
nearby, a teacher frantically
looks for the little girl lost at sea.
a field trip to an invisible building
now an adventure
to prevent a disappearing act,
waves of emotion spike
as the woman searches every corner
for some semblance of the mini hellion.
“Amber! Amber! Please say something, honey!”
Mrs. Johnson searches high and low,
from the closet to the dust-hugged kitchen;
the child is nowhere to be found,
and there is only place left to trawl.
the panicked teacher
throws the bathroom door open
in hopes of finally catching her student,
only to discover a lonely fa
darknessHave you ever woke up and you feel like their is darkness all around you?
You are battling your own mind
You have the worst thoughts go on in your head
Don't want to be around anyone
You feel like you are doomed
You think no one understands
Waking up in the darkness is not a good feeling
Try to think of a good place in your life and let the darkness fade
SilenceYou call me a bitch? You don't know what bitch is....you say I'm grumpy and rude? Keep pushing and I'll show you what I can do. Just because I don't talk and you do, you think I'm ignoring you? I listen and you talk constantly you don't listen you yell. Maybe if you shut your mouth you'll hear what I've been saying. I don't need to speak to fill the silence... I LOVE the quiet...... I think over my words carefully while you just let the words flow out freely without a second thought.
It's laughable you think you scare me.....when I can do so much more than you...when so much more has been done to me. Don't yell, just talk...listen and then I'll respond....keep yelling and pushing then I won't even bother to try and hear you. All the rage and hurt built up is a storm waiting to be let loose.....do I yell and scream and put others down? No you do.... I write, I escape and take a minute to breathe.....But don't even think for a second I forget.....I hold grudges.....and I will get my reve
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More