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Ascension Gate [OCT audition]Don't look back, that's what they want you do, that's how you get caught, that's how many of them get caught––
In the night, her feet continued to fly over the forest floor, their only pause being three minutes before, when she grabbed her crossbow and bolts from their hiding spot in a rotten stump. Even with her extra load, though, her panic made her keep running through the forest, towards the lake.
Away from Snow River City. And away from him.
("Are you trying to get us all caught?!"
"Verdan, shut up, right now! You might not have noticed, but we have bigger problems than you not toughening up!"
"I don't know if there's much more we'll be able to do for Lyric…"
"No. I know those eyes. No! I can't have you becoming a God! I won't let you slip by me again!")
She stopped when she finally reached the still shores of the Crystal Lake, only to frantically l
Ascension Gate OCT profile [Vesper Sinclair]GEN
Name: Vesper Sinclair (aka, Anna Beschen)
Weight: 124 lbs
Build: Relatively thin, but with toned muscles, especially with her arms and legs
Skin Tone: Pale
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Black
Wardrobe: Usually wears a black tunic, black pants, and leather boots. She often wears a thick grey coat during more chilly seasons.
Presence: Vesper has trained herself to make herself appear unassuming––still keeping a straight back, but only holding eye contact with others long enough to satisfy the bare minimum of societal norms. Her emotional numbness at times also makes it so that she doesn't show emotional reactions that could get her into hot water with the wrong people. If necessary, though, she'll let her her distrust of a person be made clear by giving a terrible glare, with barred teeth and a defensi
Wizardly Misadventures -4-
November 14, 2004
Outside near the Ravenwood campus, a teenage boy stormed out of his dorm room. As he was briskly walking away, he tried his best to smooth out his green hair and robes, which had become slightly disheveled. He flinched when his fingers touched his left eyelid and grimaced when he could feel a tear form from the stinging sensation. When he heard a door open behind him, his pace quickened.
"Hey wait! You okay?"
The boy gingerly placed a finger on the sore eye to wipe off the forming tear.
"Kane, we're sorry. It was an accident," an elegant, accented voice called out.
"Come back, man."
Kane ignored the voices as he entered a long, dark tunnel that was lit only by the small torches on the walls. As he continued to descend it, he could make out the echoes of footsteps not too far away.
"How many times do we have to apologize? Can't you at least turn that bleeding head of yours around and look at us?"
"Don't listen to that killjoy, Kane. At least say some
Profile - Katya L. Virtanen
Character Reference Sheet
Name: Katya Lydia Virtanen
DOB-DOD: March 16, 1987 April 30, 2004
Age: 17 at DOD
Height: 167 cm (5"5 ft.)
Weight: 48.99 kg (108 lbs.)
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Dark brown
Hair Style: Straight, waist-length
Body Type: Has always been a bit thin, but has some curves. Fairly fit. Face is softly shaped. Full lips, slightly pointed nose, and medium-large eyes.
Distinguishing Features: An L-shaped scar on the back side of her right hand, which she got when a kitten scratched her.
Ethnic Group: Russian, Japanese, German
--Life: Enjoyed dark humor and constantly drawing anime. Always liked fiddling with her jade necklace when bored and starting random conversations with Natalia and her own best friends. Had begun to gain the habit of drawing people in the middle of class in a more realistic style. She also found certain guns (mainly snipers) and some military uniforms
Profile - Natalia S. Virtanen
Character Reference Sheet
Name: Natalia Sofiya Virtanen
Date of Birth: March 16, 1987
Height: 168 cm (5"6 ft.)
Weight: 50.8 kg (112 lbs)
Eye Color: Sapphire blue
Hair Color: Black
Hair Style: Straight, waist-length
Body Type: Has always been a bit thin, but has some curves. Fairly fit. Her face is more on the soft side, but her cheeks make it look thinner. Full lips, slightly pointed nose, and medium-large sized eyes.
Distinguishing Features: Has a small scar on her right arm from where a bullet grazed it.
Ethnic Group: Russian, Japanese, German.
Eccentricities: Unless she's at a farm or someplace that can be equally dirty, she loves wearing attire that includes black high-heeled boots, waistcoats, pea coats (during colder seasons), and ties. When bored and nowhere near a piece of paper, pencil, or computer, she likes fiddling with her hair. She also holds a dislike for sunny weather and loves rain
Changes for Myself
Change, in its most cliché form, is a part of life. Small or big; "good" or "bad"; improving something or making society take a step backwhether we like it or not, or even if we notice it, it happens for every living (and non-living) being in our world at some point. In other words, change, to me, is what make our livesespecially the monotonous onesmore interesting.
There are, though, aspects of us and our world that make us what to glower at the very mention of change, especially when the aspects in question involves stuff that we know deep in our heart would be, at best, difficult to achieve. In my opinion, this is most true when this involves wanting to make changes to our own character. To some degree, everyone strives to become the "perfect" person, whether for themselves or for everyone else's benefit. This quest for perfection seems to be one that nearly all of us like to accept. For most of us, it seems to be second nature.
Like my sister, friends, violin
Downsides to Rhyming CoupletsMy mind draws up blanks every time
I try to think of a clever rhyme
Rhyming tends to make me feel boxed in,
and I end up throwing each one in a trash bin.
Every time I try, I only stare at the paper
it makes me want to yell at it, "Bis später!*"
Sadly, I can't give init must be done,
and then I think sarcastically, "Oh, what fun."
I'm not surprised when I can't get ideas in an hour,
but it still turns my mood very sour.
Then I realize while I angrily curse
that because of this, I already miss free verse.
Wizardly MisAdventures -3-
September 12, 2004
The numerous clouds made the sky black as night above the streets of Triton Avenue. The chilling rain it brought made every inch of the neighborhood soaked, and the strong and angry wind deafened the sounds of the nearby waterfalls and the mill, which was perched on top of the high, purple-stoned cliffs above. It was a scene where peace and chaos seemed to mingle together, but where nature reigned supreme above it all. But for the Storm wizard standing in the center of a small arena, these occurrences didn't even phase him. The storm wasn't the reason why he seemed occupied.
Please tell me that you're not outside in Triton Avenue Ah who am I kidding? Of course you are.
The Storm wizard smiled at the comment. With his eyes closed, he tilted his head towards the sky and breathed in the air around him. The blue hat he wore fell off his head, leaving his snow-white hair to be barraged by the rain. The raindrops were like sharp, cold needles on his skin
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
Darkest MoonI celebrate my right to live;
To the dismay of some, perhaps
It should be noted
These words I write, however true
Are only portions of the moon
I’ve decide to shine light upon.
But who am I to preach respect?
Who Am I to preach equality?
An advocate for re-personification
Of the female gender
But exhibits cannibalistic characteristics
Within dark spaces.
I am a shadow
Hidden within an Eggshell, painted pink,
Waiting to hatch.
Is the darkness
The night brought upon us.
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be one of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
You Were Born Missing SomethingYour skin is glazed with crystals of frost
and your heart's valves are close to
freezing shut tight
from being devoid of something
Though I am torrents of hail, whirling storms,
warm tears streaking,and tornadoes of rage
that flow uncontrollably through my veins
and out of my mouth,
every breath near you is warm
because your words are so cold
I am a natural disaster at its finest
with bones twisted in painful angles
and a crooked spine
you were born spineless
Mother Nature -free verse-
It's during summer, when plants are green
and insects thrive, that her stunning smile
and lively character truly
In autumn, the heat slowly departs.
The falling leaves start matching her glossy locks,
but it's also when her cheerful mood
begins to fade...
In the winter, silence reigns.
Her skin is barely darker than the snow--
and her sudden cruelty makes her colder
than the chilling air.
But then spring arrives:
The newfound warmth banishes the
birds begin to sing;
small blossoms burst from their branch's tips.
Every spring, it strikes a spark of hope
into her eyes,
a light that keeps growing.
By the time summer has come,
she's already full life again.
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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