tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58052482826042995982024-03-14T05:19:12.460-07:00The Exciting Writings Of A Moonstruck GirlWatch out for the black cats. They tend to abide in this area, and can get violent and eat you easily. Beware. And while your at it, you can also read various mad-ramblings by some lunatic. If you see her, just ignore her.Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-59222106421096302162012-01-07T07:46:00.000-08:002012-01-07T07:46:37.134-08:00Never give in.Stay strong. No matter what. Right now I'm going through hard time, and I feel trapped in a dark world, but I never let myself forget all the bright things in my life, and if there's anyone else out there who feels trapped with no hope, then think of me, because I don't want anyone to feel hopeless, and I know this post came randomely because I haven't been on lately, but I assure you I haven't forgotten about the blog. Basically:<br />
Stay Strong. Don't give up. Don't lose hope. I am with you, and I believe in you.<br />
<br />
Cres xoCrescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-5250173650047122652011-12-18T09:51:00.001-08:002011-12-18T09:51:15.393-08:00Here is a song<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Toast in a bottle, Toast in a bottle</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All I ever wanted was, Toast in a bottle, Toast in a bottle</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ALL I EVER WANTED WAS TOAST IN A BOTTLE</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TOAST IN A BOTTLE TOAST IN A BOTTLE</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But mostly toast is on a plate, because it wouldn't fit in a bottle.</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-19903592561567348432011-12-18T02:24:00.000-08:002011-12-18T02:24:00.563-08:00I was wondering..<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Why is a raven like a writing desk?</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-28835861357841167972011-11-20T07:43:00.000-08:002011-11-20T07:43:34.438-08:00Thank you's and Corruption<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you blog, for being there to listen to me, when no one else would. You have been here a while, eh? Me and you, we have been through a LOT, and you hold a lot of memories. This whole community has. I started off with something like 2 followers, and now I have 11, and I couldn't be prouder. </span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But now cracks are beginning to show.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People are arguing more than before, and things...Things have changed so much...It makes me sad thinking how the blog will probably never be like it was before. But then again, no ones really on the blog are they?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Everyone's on the chatbox.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leave your hate comments below ^_^</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-41198042417716991462011-10-25T11:49:00.000-07:002011-10-25T11:49:50.089-07:00Imma Killjoy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Killjoy: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 19px;">Reference to "Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys", the (as yet to be released) album by My Chemical Romance.</span><div class="definition" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 19px;"><br />
Outsider fighting against social/corporate suffocation.<br />
<br />
Non-conformist.<br />
<br />
Rebel.</div><div class="example" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;">"Killjoys, make some noise!"<br />
<br />
Search "Na Na Na trailer" on YouTube for the best definition/example.</div><div class="example" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><br />
</div><div class="example" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><div class="definition" style="font-style: normal;">Rebels of BLI (Better Living Inc.) in California 2019 from <a class="urbantip" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=My%20Chem" style="background-color: #6698cb; color: #fbffea; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 2px; text-decoration: none;">My Chem</a> 's album Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys.</div><div class="example" style="font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;">It's time to do it now and do it loud. Killjoys, make some noise!</div><div class="example" style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><div class="definition" style="font-style: normal;">The group of fighters determined to take down BL/Ind. The most notable members of the group are<br />
Party Poison<br />
Fun Ghoul<br />
Kobra Kid<br />
and Jet Star</div><div class="example" style="font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;">BL/Ind will take over the world unless the Killjoys stop them</div><div class="example" style="font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><br />
</div><div class="example" style="font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><br />
</div><div class="example" style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;">I have two killjoy names for myself, but I can't pick one. Which one is your favourite??</div><div class="example" style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><br />
</div><div class="example" style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Sonic Rain</u> The symbol for this is a raindrop emitting sound wave looking things. I'll try post a pic.</div><div class="example" style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><br />
</div><div class="example" style="margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Static Daisy</u> The symbol for this is a daisy, but the stem of the daisy is a lightning bolt instead of a normal one. Pics may come.</div></div><div class="example" style="font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 5pt;"><br />
</div></div>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-52984354974484543742011-10-24T14:24:00.000-07:002011-10-24T14:24:23.281-07:00The Lost Cat<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She sits in her room, quite content. She sets her alarm for school the next day. And then she remembers the tragedy. And her heart becomes sluggish, and weighted down by worry. She remembers her lost one. She is trying ever so hard, but sometimes it becomes too much. But she can't, won't cry, because that meant weakness, that meant giving up. She fought the tears, and held them off. She was getting rather good at it actually. She thought of the land outside, being consumed by rain. The floods. How would her poor, innocent cat survive out there. Her cat was a house cat that hated the outdoors, and should have been back by now. Roughly two days she had been missing. It wasn't like her cat. Either she had been killed, so she could not return, or someone else had taken her in, and fed her. The girl tried her hardest not to give up hope. This cat had been with her for a long time. Around four years. She had had that cat since it was a kitten and had known it since it was born. She remembered when the cats sister had gone missing and never came back. How she had cried into the cats fur. Like now. Her eyes were pooling up, but she fought the tears, and wiped them away angrily. She wouldn't give up hope yet. Her cat had never given up hope on her, despite the countless times the girl had held the cat closely in her arms whispering her misfortunes to the cat, and then sobbing into its soft coat. But if her cat did not return, the girl was not sure how she could handle everything. Slow School. Sick Mother. Lost Loved One. So many things...How was she supposed to do take care of everything all at once? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe she couldn't.</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-78077327861769272812011-10-18T14:44:00.000-07:002011-10-18T14:44:06.564-07:00SDFGIAMCRAZYASDFGHJDFGHGVFDCSTEEHEEHEEFEDGHJKGTRFEDRADIOHEADTFGHBJNMCRGFVBHNPARAMOREGHJKLINKINPARKFGHJ30SECONDSTOMARSDFGBHGGFCB<br />
<br />
Cres/ xoCrescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-49656935872070765272011-10-18T14:35:00.000-07:002011-10-18T14:35:19.995-07:00#Diaryentry1<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Oh hi. I didn't see you there. Ok, so basically, I decided to start writing a diary in this journal thing I have and then post it on the internet for the whole world to see out of sheer boredom, because obviously everyones just <i>dying </i>to know what I'm up to.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Anyway, It's nice to meet you, I'm a lot of people. I'm Crimson, I'm Crescent, and I'm Hana. You can really call me what you want, I don't care. So any way, yeah, I'm Hana and I'm selfish, impatient and uncaring. I like reading, dark watercolours, and things that make me seem like a nice person. Also black nail varnish and red hair dye. I like boys clothing, which has resulted in me stealing my bro's clothes, which has resulted in me getting hit.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My Mam got out of hospital today. I was so happy, I had missed her so much. She was supposed to come out on Monday, but she kept it as a suprise that she was getting out today. I hate the way her and my Granda think I'm not responsible or smart enough to realise what the side effects of all this is.I obviously know that I have to take care of my Mam, 'cos the chemo makes her sick. And I know that I have to clean up after myself yadda yadda yadda. Maybe I am unresponsible and dumb. Ah well. My hand is already hurting. Ok, I'm back. I was on facebook. Sorry 'bout that. Of course you wouldn't notice that I stopped writing 'cos this is all one big thing for you. Maybe I should post like 3 lines a week, just ta piss ya off. I can be a mean bitch when I want to be. I can also be a mean bitch when I don't want to too though, which is slightly inconvenient. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I can be so angry at my Mam sometimes. She started smoking again. And that hurts. She promised she wouldn't smoke. Ah well. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Is it wrong that pointing out my bad points makes me feel good about myself? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Probably. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Probably means I'm crazyyyy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I think I can hear my Mam crying downstairs. Its ok though, 'cos shes downstairs with her friend. Sometimes I get really sad and angry and confused at the same time that I take a scissors and I go to cut my own hair. I don't know how that should make me feel better. It would probably just make me uglier. But my logic always comes over me before I manage to actually cut my hair. Y'know another reason why I'm a bad person? Because there are a few reasons I'm doing this, here's 2.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">1. To rant about whats happening in my life</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">2. Basically to be pitied, right?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">There's nothing <i>really </i>wrong with my life, I mean obviously, my Mam has cancer, and I kinda hate my Dad, but nothing huge. There are people out there who are raped and abused nearly every day, and they suck it up and carry on. And I'm moaning and whinging about such small stuff in comparison. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Anyway, I'm listening to Vermillion by Slipknot. My good friend Robert(Bob The Mosher) introduced me to this song. Seriously though, only listen to thing song if your depressed. I'm not depressed though LOL Yeah I'm totally emo, and I cut myself <b>all </b>the time NOT.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">DAMN. Sorry just remembered how fucking sad this song is.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Slipknot-Vermillion the bloodstone mix, part 2</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Oh crap. I wrote a lot. I just realised I'm gonna have to type this up eventually DAMMIT. I'll probably do it when I go to Indi's house, and steal her wifi.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I want to cry. My life is over. I didn't get to buy Kerrang! My Chemical Romance poster edition. Whhyyyyyy? WHHYYYYYYY? LIFE, WHY DO YOU HATE MEEEEE?? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I'll have to buy it off ebay, for like 30 euro.I actually don't care, I fucking need it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Sometimes I fucking hate my brother. He's so fucking annoying. Sorry for cursing. I would have gouged his eyeballs out by now if it weren't for that tiny bit of logic I have.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My Mam started shouting at us 'cos my bro saw that I was wearing another one of his jumpers. But its way to small for him any way so.My Dad just came in now.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">************************************************************</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Ok that was basically a post I wasn't assed to finish, so I'll just post everything that I <i>was </i>assed to post.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">**Insert poetic goodbye statement**</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-27499602019686673482011-10-15T13:35:00.000-07:002011-10-15T16:40:27.819-07:00Brace Face/Metal Mouth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdL35ofgbXHCn_9dHWluIm1QY5-9M9FFssug_4_JcDeJhlPIRM4_A-aH1-rR0KNsWbuDwWYTcLdNKUzIQZq51glDhtn9ff8rR63-XH2QPTV2nokO9zMNl_oHuH4GtH73Ne7G3KnelYteM/s1600/212903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdL35ofgbXHCn_9dHWluIm1QY5-9M9FFssug_4_JcDeJhlPIRM4_A-aH1-rR0KNsWbuDwWYTcLdNKUzIQZq51glDhtn9ff8rR63-XH2QPTV2nokO9zMNl_oHuH4GtH73Ne7G3KnelYteM/s320/212903.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Thats me. I got braces yesterday. Guess what? THEY HURT. OLOT. <br />
<br />
But according to Indi I am 'working the nerd look' :D I wear glasses too so...Yeah...Anyway...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzb32XxfudEMTtogwj0Bg4CBduOC1VoT-L_3yYzAwLiRc4fvceGJdkx2JcrkNFd-qWLd80pN0C7YW3CisLOhhonLFrih9XZ0cQpwSBx74MmYSrI2SvglP5W9YXaaTu25jCigSW6oYWfovp/s1600/213144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzb32XxfudEMTtogwj0Bg4CBduOC1VoT-L_3yYzAwLiRc4fvceGJdkx2JcrkNFd-qWLd80pN0C7YW3CisLOhhonLFrih9XZ0cQpwSBx74MmYSrI2SvglP5W9YXaaTu25jCigSW6oYWfovp/s320/213144.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12slGDLwdKllb9JJp9ayjlFDM_zJ_pnqT1nD7-Su3I5qka71CrBVDux0g0TN_l-bB6f5QZa1fVPvmlb5bksRX5n409juMZfO-gI0hxqt6HkVx6YaZ44pmTxvtlF9vMBlW3pb1TUTsT1Gh/s1600/213245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12slGDLwdKllb9JJp9ayjlFDM_zJ_pnqT1nD7-Su3I5qka71CrBVDux0g0TN_l-bB6f5QZa1fVPvmlb5bksRX5n409juMZfO-gI0hxqt6HkVx6YaZ44pmTxvtlF9vMBlW3pb1TUTsT1Gh/s320/213245.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I have braces on my top teeth and bottem teeth. It feels really weird, but at least I'll have straight teeth at the end of this.Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-19947967072519542842011-10-15T13:21:00.000-07:002011-10-15T13:21:49.115-07:00Le photoOk, here is two photos of me that I don't hate <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgleRLIx1ddp5JikG3uFjetxYrPLOXeAUBT9mwUmtHcMvxCCtXnwCBU79XO3PSoAyAz9BK6bRyBJ60rSyDZGsO2oYyTdna8KavVg_N1NFyEB2QZdSGV21uUeZWtkuX4UDTS-gaaNuEOieat/s1600/170014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgleRLIx1ddp5JikG3uFjetxYrPLOXeAUBT9mwUmtHcMvxCCtXnwCBU79XO3PSoAyAz9BK6bRyBJ60rSyDZGsO2oYyTdna8KavVg_N1NFyEB2QZdSGV21uUeZWtkuX4UDTS-gaaNuEOieat/s320/170014.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4FrGHMJ4rT6rH0gKOwDfCRlKfg5IXqukheskIa5IOI82SZxbB_dtSv-6oeAU2ZTEWFJz4m_8hQsxjxYFeTVNzsMS84CsyTvnsNeSL74NAR1xYvJWfkho-f_2BNCxhGxt3ubZ01ixp_as/s1600/170336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4FrGHMJ4rT6rH0gKOwDfCRlKfg5IXqukheskIa5IOI82SZxbB_dtSv-6oeAU2ZTEWFJz4m_8hQsxjxYFeTVNzsMS84CsyTvnsNeSL74NAR1xYvJWfkho-f_2BNCxhGxt3ubZ01ixp_as/s320/170336.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-71766507353724378822011-10-08T06:36:00.000-07:002011-10-08T06:36:14.363-07:00New OC!! ;DName: Levana Nocturne<br />
<br />
Age: 14<br />
<br />
Gender: Female<br />
<br />
Hair Colour: Blue<br />
<br />
Hair Style: Short and punky<br />
<br />
Eye Colour: Grey<br />
<br />
Height: 5'4<br />
<br />
Personality: Aloof, determined, loyal, smart, vindictive, judgemental<br />
<br />
Wears: Grey skinny jeans, black tee-shirt with a skull on it, and converse-boots.<br />
<br />
Favourite Colours: Dark blue, grey, black.<br />
<br />
Nationality and Accent: Irish, light Dublin accent.<br />
<br />
History: Unknown<br />
<br />
Family: Older brother younger sister.<br />
<br />
Powers: Shapeshifter, Necromancer, can control weather.<br />
<br />
Favorite Weapons: Bow and arrow, Katana<br />
<br />
Other skills: Paints<br />
<br />
Friends: Everyone! ;D<br />
<br />
Enemies: Undecided :P<br />
<br />
Hates: Liquorice, pop music, annoying people, flies.<br />
<br />
Likes: Zombie cats, and Gothic bunnies, rock music, ice cream, people with brightly coloured hair and sexy peircings.<br />
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Notes: Has a lip ring.Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-3517776287245557852011-09-06T11:57:00.000-07:002011-09-06T11:57:16.166-07:00Plan's For The Future.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> When I grow up I want to be a Marshmellow-cat. Deal with it.</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-64760556826152195542011-08-17T13:46:00.000-07:002011-08-17T13:46:10.485-07:00Skull-Dress pics I promised ^_^<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this is my dress! Sorry you can't really see it :L I did say the skulls were tiny..And I had to use the camera on my laptop, so I could only get half of da scene ;] I'm in my Mams room here ;P shhh, don't tell...I have my trusty shoulder bag here also ;P. I feel a photo frenzy coming on...so keep looking out fo' more posts. ;]</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Peace out bog people ^_^</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">P.S. I'm getting my hair cut today, so this is the last time you will see those long brunette locks. 'Cos I'm also dying my hair red. VERY red. I keep you posted.</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-2304785228852155452011-08-04T13:10:00.000-07:002011-08-04T13:11:12.880-07:00The Octaboona, Kallista, Dragona love triangle explained.<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">OK, I think everyone knows its obvious, that Octa and Kallista are pretty much in love ^_^</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New;">They even write poems about each other, which is adorable. Even when I first joined this blog it was blatently obvious to me, that there was a lot of chemistry between the two. And Octa's poems about Kallista sent shivers up my spine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New;">And then one day, whilst on Dereks blog, Drag asked Kallista to marry him. Even before he asked this, he was obviously crushing on her.I remember saying Kal and Pine in a tree..etc, and Kallista replying, no, its Kal and Octa in a tree!! And when he proposed, she said she had to ask all the other boys from the blog for their permission, because she couldn't ask her Dad. And she asked Octa, and he said: "But what if I want to marry her? :)" But in the end, Kal said yes. It is a well known fact, that Kallista is the nicest person on the planet. So I can see why she would have said yes to marrying Drag, and I think its really nice that the two are happy. But even so, its still obvious that her and Octa have an starcrossed romance. Its adorable. :3 </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New;">Is it just me whos seeing this? C'mon people, its obvious!!</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-22518684916122699662011-08-02T04:14:00.000-07:002011-08-02T04:14:33.138-07:00OMG OMG OMG POTTERMORE!!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I DID IT!! I FINALLY GOT THE CLUE AND MANAGED TO REGISTER FOR POTTERMORE!!!I NEVER MANAGED THE FIRST DAY, NOR THE SECOND DAY, BUT NOW, FINALLY, THE GLORY IS MINE!!! YEEEEESS!! CANT WAIT!! IM WAITING FOR MY EMAIL NOW WHILE LISTENING TO THE THEME TUNE TO HP, AND IM IN AN AWESOME MOOD AND IM FEELING SUPER HAPPY!!! XD :D YAAAAAY!! WOOOOOOOOO</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-27599922948110978062011-07-31T12:37:00.000-07:002011-07-31T12:37:14.679-07:00A Cold Girl (SP Fan-Fiction, based losely on the SP books)<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-8770607975727949669">There was a crackle of lightning, forking through the sky, followed closely by a rumble of thunder. Rain poured down heavily, coming down hard, and under a cemetery, there was a young girl, aged seven or eight, plotting and planning. She shivered from the cold, and hugged herself tight. She had shoulder-lenght dark brown hair, almost black, with touches of auburn, and a dark beauty about her. She crept from her stone-walled cold room, fully dressed, her dark eyes darting from side to side in anxiety. She shivered again. The cold weather really wasn't doing anything for the already freezing temple. She knew there were patrols keeping an eye out, and it would look suspicious to be creeping around so late at night. But to avoid detection, she planned to use a new trick she had learned. She bunched her fists, and called on her death magic. Even at a young age, she'd always thought she'd had a thing for it. Necromacy, that is. When she clenched her fists, the shadows from the hall appeared to slither to her side, and merge with her, concealing her from the prying eyes of the patrols. It was a strange sensation, wearing the shadows like a cloak, yet strangely comforting. It made her feel safe, though it was like wearing marble. Cold. Hard. But strong, and protective. She let her mind wander, thinking of what His Eminence would do when he discovered one of his finest, and disobedient had fled. Maybe he wouldn't care. Or maybe they wouldn't stop trying to hunt her down. There was only one reason that she had not fled earlier. Sorel. Her best friend, whom she loved, but it was Sorel who so strictly followed the Necromancer teachings, that she so strongly disagreed with. This was why, regretfully, she could not inform her of her leaving. She wondered how she would react. She knew Sorel had little friends, so she would be lonely, but surely she would adjust-<br />
"Hey!" There came a shout to snap the girl from her daze. She had been letting her mind wander and therefore let her guise drop. The patrol ran for her, but she was smart. She knew he would not like the idea of attacking a seven year old. She smiled and ran, ran through the halls she had lived most her life. She was lighter and faster, so beat the patrol. She was almost at the exit, but all the noise had woken quite a few people. And more patrols. She skidded left, and turned sharply, heading for a large ebony bookcase, from which she grabbed a book. She glanced at its title <em>The Dark Art Of Necromacy.</em> She saw some people had come from their rooms. Boys and girls of her age and a little older gawped at her moxie and bold attitude. She though little of them, until she saw Sorels pale face, framed by dirty blonde hair, gaping at her. But it was the hurt in her eyes, the <em>How could you?</em> look that she was giving her, the look that sent daggers of ice into her heart. She faltered for a second, but a second was all that was needed by the patrols. One leaped at her, and because she was so light knocked her to the floor. But she snarled and summoned up shadows to shove him off her. That was all she could do with her limited knowledge of the magic. Then she turned tail and ran, ran out the doors, out into the cemetory, teeming with death, into the street, and ran into the dark stormy night, into which no one followed. <br />
<div style="clear: both;"></div></div><div class="post-footer"><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard"> ***</span></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard"><strong><em><u>6 Years Later..</u></em></strong></span></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard">Crimson rubbed her bony arms in a pathetic attempt to generate heat into her ice cold body. It was december, and she was in Dublin, Ireland, and she had no were to go. She was pale, and her lips had turned blue from the cold. She hugged herself tight, as the snow fell more heavily, the snowflakes gently caressing her face. She chuckled to herself, as she thought of one thing Necromancy couldn't do, which was generate heat. She was cold, and so very tired. She felt her eyelids getting heavier. The dark, welcoming arms of sleep beckoned her towards it, but she knew that if she fell into this slumber, it would be unlikely that she would wake. But it would be so easy to just close her eyes, and lie down. She could escape all her problems. There would be no more, long, cold hungry nights, and sleep tormented by nightmares of Sorel attacking her, or being discovered by the Necromancers. There would be no more running. She saw a tear roll down her cheek, which she could no longer feel, because of the cold. She couldn't live like this. But she was so tired, that nothing mattered. She was so numb, she didn't care. She felt her eyelids close, as she fell into the eager arms of sleep.. </span></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard"> __________________</span></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard"></span> </div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard">This story was inspired by the song "Hide Your Eyes" by the band, "Half Noise"</span></div></div>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-51644467016446514602011-07-26T04:46:00.000-07:002011-07-26T04:46:00.945-07:00Inspiration and Music<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I would like to say were I got my inspiration to write my most recent fan fiction, with Crimson in it. it came from this song: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvIadQrjHb4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvIadQrjHb4</a> Whenever I read what I wrote, I always imagine this song being played when Crimson is freezing to death. I don't know why, I just love this piece of music. Thats all I have to say.</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-81103962984977318892011-07-25T16:08:00.000-07:002011-07-25T16:11:26.502-07:00The story of how Alice met Rowan.<div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">My sides heaved, and I could hear my shoes slapping against the concrete, wind rushing past my face, hair streaming behind me, my eyes watering.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I glanced behind me. There didn't seem to be anyone following. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I had to run. I didn't exactly have much choice did I? They were gonna send me to the freakin' looney bin. my parents, if that's what you'd call them. They thought I was crazy, but I'm not, seriously. At least I don't think I am...</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> It was because of those damn visions. Ruined my life, they did. My name's Alice. Alice in wonderland. More like crazyland right now. My parents wanted a perfect kid, smart, pretty, they wanted a girl who would wear flouncy pink lacy dresses, and hair yanked back into pigtails, with pearly white teeth. Instead, they got me. Tall, with a boyish figure, prefering black jeans and boots etc, with wild unkept dirty blonde hair, and buck-teeth. They often brought me to important business meetings were they would make me dress up in the most hurl-worthy dresses you can possibly imagine. I was their trophy child. But not any more. Just to iritate them I dyed my hair jet-black, even though I prefered its natural colour. I'm thirteen, going on fourteen. Bit young for the mental home, eh?</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I don't really now where I'm going to stay. This was a spur of the moment thing, but when I was going I stole some money. Yeah, I'm a sinner an' all. But my parents are loaded, so I don't just mean the sneaky five Euro every now and then. This is big money. I'm not sure where I am now. Mam and Dad really should have took me into Dublin more often, because I have no idea were I am.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Suddenly my head was hit with hammer blow force, like my forehead was being split open, and my ears were ringing with a high pitched sound, and I was blinded by a bright white light, like when you wake up in the morning and someone yanks open the curtains and the light is really strong, and it hurts your head too. Everything was blurry, and felt dazed. Though I knew what this was.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> A vision.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> This was the usual symptoms. I needed to get somewhere confined, and fast, 'cos believe me, having a vision in public = bad, bad things. I would know.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I started running, when I tripped on an indentation in the path. I fell head-first into a girl, of about fourteen or fifteen. She had long, thick auburn hair, with a fringe, and a freckled face. And piercing mossy green eyes. That was the last thing I saw before the bright light expanded to fill every corner of my vision and the noise became deafening, almost like the roar of waves on a windy day.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> <b>* * * </b></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">A girl. With long dirty blonde hair. Me. But with my natural hair colour. And blue-grey eyes. I was smiling, and not, it seemed, at some self-deprecating joke. I shot out my left arm, aiming at a flat rock, probably from some pebble beach. I narrowed my eyes in concentration, and swung my arm in an arc, with which the rock followed. I gaped in amazement. Me now, not future me. A boy walked in. He was probably around fifteen, with a shock of black hair, sprawled across his head like a lazy black cat, or as though a toddler had got a black crayon and scribbled an undecipherable mess onto his head. Cool. He came over, and clapped me on the back. I was in some kind of green house maybe, because it was quite stuffy, i could see out the windows into a meadow behind. Pretty. Very pretty.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> And then, like a fish on a hook, I was yanked back to the present.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> <b> * * *</b></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Very green eyes. Mossy green. Practically luminesent. Then a wave of nausea swept over me, and I laughed rainbows onto someones shoes. Ya' know, puked, hurled, whatever dangles your doughnut.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I was in some kind of empty storage warehouse. Well considering it was empty, it wasn't doing much storing. It was cold, and dark, and dank. Dank. I like that word. It means unpleasently moist or humid. Like this place. And then I realised I wasn't alone. There was a girl here, The girl I'd fallen into. The girl I'd just puked onto. Great. Just great. I only noticed her, and jumped back in fright.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Jeez, I know I'm not the best looking, but still.." She joked.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "What do you want?" I asked suspicously</span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"></span><br />
<div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Thats not a very nice way to talk to someone you just puked on." She pointed out.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that." I said lamely, blushing.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> She smiled, but I still didn't know who she was, and I wasn't going to be trusting anyone.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">"I'm Rowan." She said.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Like a Rowan tree. I'm Alice" </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Alice who fell down the rabbit hole." she grinned. It was then I decided I liked her. Maybe It was my physicic senses telling me or whatever.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Why did you bring me here?" I asked</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Well, you fainted, and you were actually seizing up a little, so..I figured I should probably get you in here."</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Well, thanks." I said.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "So, why did you faint?" </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I laughed. "You really don't wanna know."</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oh, but yes I do." She counteracted.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Ok, but you brought it upon yourself. I am a freaky girl, who ran away from her rich snobby parents who were going to send her to a mental home because I keep having these wierd visions of the future, which always come true." I said in a rush.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " I'm damaged goods." I pointed out.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Then she started laughing. She laughed so hard, she clutched at her side, and when she finally calmed down she was brushing tears away.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">"What?" I demanded. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oooh, nothin' you're just funny. Now about these visions-" She began but I interupted her.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "No, no,no,no,no, you are not taking me to some stupid creepy old doctor, to be shoved into a mental home, force-fed pills, and talk with a frickin' therapist, because, I am <b><i><u>not</u></i></b> crazy!" I finished</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Um...Thats not what I was going to say. If you had given me a chance to speak, you would know that what I was going to say was that I know someone you could see."</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "And would this person happen to be a doctor, hm?" I asked suspiciously</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " No. To put it simply, someone like you. Someone who has visions. A Seer, or Prophetess, I believe it is called." she said, grinning at my shocked, gaping face.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">I had always wondered if there had been people who had had what I did...A curse...Though I had never met any of them before. And now...well this was just...amazing..I mean this...It just changes everything...</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">"How? Where? Who?" I asked</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " How? I cannot answer that because I do not know. Where? Well, you might just find out if you come with me...Who? The answer may await in your future." </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Wait, is that your way of asking me to go somewhere with you?" I said, a smile playing on my lips.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "It may just be..." She smiled.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Well, I don't even know you very well...you're a stranger I mean..." I said</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "So...is that a yes?" She said, a gleam in her eye</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Yep." I smirked.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Rowan stood up and I followed her outside. It was a whole lot brighter out there, with the afternoon sun shining down, very un-irish weather, but I wasn't complaining. It was hot and bright, and the city was bursting with people, bustling around, a genereal buzz of conversation in the air, but it made my head hurt, and I swayed were I stood for a second before Rowan took hold of my shoulders and steered me around a corner.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> We walked in a slightly awkward silence for fifteen minutes, when Rowan stopped outside a rickety looking pub, which I assumed to be called The Toads Stool. I thought this because instead of the name at the front top of the pub, the name was scribbled all over its front. <i>All</i> over it. Like, every single inch. except every time it was written, it was in a different font. Kinda like this:</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Boopee; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Toads Stool </span></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: Boopee; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Century Gothic", "sans-serif"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Gothic", "sans-serif"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Copperplate Gothic Bold", "sans-serif"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Copperplate Gothic Bold", "sans-serif"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Earwig Factory"; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Toads Stool</span></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Earwig Factory"; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Edwardian Script ITC"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Edwardian Script ITC"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Euphorigenic S"; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> The Toads Stool</span></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Euphorigenic S"; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "French Script MT"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "French Script MT"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Kredit; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the toads stool</span></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Kredit; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Ligurino Condensed"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Minya Nouvelle"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Minya Nouvelle"; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Minya Nouvelle"; font-size: 22pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Neuropol", "sans-serif"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Neuropol", "sans-serif"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Perpetua", "serif"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Rockwell Extra Bold", "serif"; font-size: 22pt;">The Toads Stool</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Rockwell Extra Bold", "serif"; font-size: 22pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Script; font-size: 36pt;">The Toads Stool.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">Except messier. I could see one made of symbols I couldn't decipher.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Here we are" Said Rowan cheerfully.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">"A pub?" I asked slightly confused.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Yeah, the women we're going to see owns it."said Rowan. "C'mon."</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I pushed open the big wooded door to be greeted with the smell of beer, Guinness, Warm wood, Log fires, and pool tables. It brought back pleasent memories of when I visited my Grandad, back when him and my parents were on speaking terms. He was a jolly man, who was the image of Santa Clause, always with a bit of frothy Guinness stuck in his beard. I remember, once, when he let me have a sip of his guinness, and I threw up all over the table. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Here in this pub, it was dark inside, which made my head feel a bit better, with thick red velvet curtains drawn over the windows, with comfy leather sofa-seats and sturdy wooden chairs with the seat pushed under the aged dusty wooden table. And in the center of the room was a brass bar. It was nice and warm in here, but not stuffy.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Rowan sauntered up to the bar and began talking with a women I would have guessed to be Spanish.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Hey Lisa, we're looking for Lavender, would she be here by any chance?" Rowan asked.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> The women nodded and gestured to a door behind the bar, which I guessed leaded to the back room.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Now, before you go in, I just want you to know, Lavender is quite...critial, and...how do I put this...slightly ruthless in some aspects. So I'm just warning you." she explained quickly.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">I followed Rowan through the door, to see a women in her sixties with leathery skin and chocolate brown eyes and thick brown hair, crudely tied into a bun, sipping a golden coloured drink I suspected was apple cider.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">"Made it myself" Said the women, Which only confused me more because I hadn't said it out loud. She had probably seen me looking at it. I remembered her name was Lavender.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Lavender, long time no see!" Said Rowan smiling, and going in for a small hug, which Lavender grugingly excepted.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Yes, thats because the only time you come to see me is when you want something from me" And despite her grumblings, she invited us to sit. "Now what is it you want?"</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oh, well, I thought your physicic senses would have told you that" Joked Rowan, somehow grinning under Lavenders icy glare, but Lavender ignored this and poured us both a drink, which I resolved not to drink because Rowan hadn't touched hers. When we were settled down Rowan began to talk.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "This girl here, Alice, I think she's like you. In fact, I'm almost sure, I just need your conformation" </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Lavender eyed me suspiciosly, then: "Give me your hand girl." She said.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> When I hestitated, she snapped " Give it here, I don't bite" And grabbed my hand into her clawlike worn hands. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Yep." Lavender said suddenly, making me jump slightly. " Thats her. She has the second sight, though I think that's a ridiculous name for my girft. It makes us sound as though we have a second pair of eyes." She sniffed dramaticlly. " I thank you not to bore me with silly names that degrade me ability" She huffed, and whipped around. Rowan rolled her eyes. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "I saw that" Said Lavender, though her back was turned. Rowan thanked her for her help, and we entered out into the bar area once more. As we were leaving I became aware of a slight tinkling noise. I turned around and saw that the glasses on the shelf behind the counter hadd began to shake slightly, like a minor earthquake was happening. I then noticed everything else was shaking too, and people were looking alarmed and getting up out of their chairs.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Rowan turned around franticlly, an alarmed look on her face. She grabbed my arm, and started pulling me toward the door, ignoring my confused splutters, but before she could get there and wretch the door open, I heard a tremendous crash, and tendrils of shadows erupted from the floor boards, like dark flames, licking around my feet. All hell broke loose then, of course. So much for the no panic rule.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "GET DOWN!" Screamed Rowan, diving behind the bar, along with the frightened barmaid. I however, always being the odd one out, should it be being the one chosen to have a stupid physcic sense, or being a shadows favorite snack, yum yum, was not so lucky.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> One of the shadows slithered over, and coiled around my ankle, lightning quick, and before I could even react, or register what was happening, ( I dought my brain would have been able to comprehend it anyway. I probably would have stood there, mouth hanging open, looking gormless) it tossed me up into the air, like stir-fry in a wok, but not really. Gee, even though I'm being hurled into the air by a living shadow, I still have time for pointless outbursts of wit. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Now, I'm not usually a screamer, its just not me, but I'll make an exception, I absaloutly screeched my head off. In the midst of the chaos, I saw Lavender hobble out of the back room, presumably to ask what all the commotion was about, but her confused expression rapidly changed to suprise to fear, to anger. I saw that she was holding a black ebony walking stick, which she started waving in the air like a mad-women.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I struggled to loosen the grip of the thing holding me by my ankle, but I couldn't even see, because my hair was in my face, as I was being held upside down. Its vice-like grip just tightened, and I screamed again, as I heard the cruch of bone, and my nerves spiked with pain, as my ankle dangled helplessly, still in the grip of the hellish being. After a minute, I became aware of the fact that I was crying. I never cried. <i>Never</i>. Well, apart from now. I just really couldn't understand this. It was like in maths class, when I was groggy and tired, and staring at a problem for ages, but my brain just couldn't understand it. Like a computer that froze, or your TV scrambles and keeps repeating the last three seconds. I was so confused...Since when did shadows became animate, and start grabbing innocent girls, and crushing their ankles? But most of all I was scared. I hate to admit it but I was. I'm not usually one to get scared, or more often admit it. Put on a brave face, that was my thing. But now my heart was thumping, and I felt like I couldn't breath. I was gonna die, and suddenly the whole mental home idea sounded a lot more cosy than I'd remembered...</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> What do I do? I wonder what it feels like to die. Please...I just want this stupid thing to let me go...I'm too young to die...yeah, cliche, but its true. And then, as quick as it had begun, it ended. It was over. Nix. Nada. Nothing. And then the wooden floor rushed up to greet me, but instead smacked me in the face. So rude. </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> <b> * * * </b></span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">I could feel them. The shadows. Slithering against my face. I leapt up in alarm, and then fell right back down as my ankle exploded into agony. Its probably not as bad as it seems, its just, I've never actually broken any limbs before. The worst injury I can remember was eitheir when I fell off my bike and was covered in bruises and scratches, or when I was young and miraculsly manged to open a so called child locked medicine bottle, and drained it one, and had to be brought to hospital to have my stomach pumped.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> I saw the last of the shadows creeping down through the floorboards, back to wherever they came from. Some hellish painful reality I suspect.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " And stay outta my pub, ye bloody fear-monger!!!" yelled Lavender after them. Lavender. Now that I think about it, thats a really strange name for her. I've always thought of Lavender to be something that represented soft and sleepy stuff. and flowers, obviously. But she's not exactly what I'd call soft, nor sleepy, nor flowery.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "What the hell was that?!" I shouted trying not to look at my slightly mangled ankle.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oh, ya'know, just a shadowfiend, the buggers are popping up all over the place these days, don't know whats up with them" Said Rowan cheerfully.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "But you showed him!" Said Rowan, although I never heard any of this, because at that point I had begun shouting at the top of my lungs.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "WHAT ?!?!?! POPPING UP ALL OVER THE PLACE?! WHY ARE YOU SO CASUAL AND EVER SO SLIGHTLY HAPPY ABOUT THIS?!! I ALMOST DIED, AND MY ANKLE IS CRUSHED, SO I CAN'T STAND! THAT THING HAD ME!!" I was in hysterias now. Rowan looked shocked, and slightly baffled. "AND SINCE WHEN CAN SHADOWS DO THAT?!?! I THOUGHT I WAS DEAD! WHY ARE YOU SO NONCHALANT ABOUT THIS!!!!!" I screamed, biting back a sob. I must have looked mad, my hair flying all over the place, face red, eyes wide and bloodshot, and lets not forget the slightly mangled ankle. I probably would have thrown myself at her if it weren't for the ankle. I then quickly added: "And thank you Lavender, you saved my life." Even in moments of hysteria, I will still remember my manners. I noticed a slight look of bewilderment cross her face but she quckly regained her posture.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Look, sit down here and calm down. Lisa, get her a drink." Rowan ordered. Lavender came over and grabbed my arm with suprising strenght and seated me in a chair nearby. The place was empty apart from me, Rowan, Lavender, and the Spanish waitress Lisa. Lisa looked up from were she was sweeping up some shattered glass, and scurried over to get me some water. I calmed myself down and sipped my water patiently.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " So now that I have ceased screaming, would any one of you care to inform me of what the hell just happened?" I said, keeping my vioce level.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Well, The shadows attacked, and you were whipped into the air, ankle crushed..." Rowan trailed off when she saw the look I was giving her.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "I'd gathered as much" I said through gritted teeth.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Well, its ok now, because its gone, and won't be coming back any time soon, thanks to you." Rowan smiled warmly.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Me? The only thing I did was scream, cry, and have my ankle broken" I stared down at it in dismayal.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Yes, but what else did you do? Think...You wanted it to let you go right? And you asked it to let you go...So it did." Said Rowan</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Ok...I'm not really sure how to react to this..." I said.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Look, to make a long story short, you have a minimal amount of mind control abilities, which are heightened at times when you are feeling strong emotions. Like fear." Lavender said bluntly, looking steadily at me waiting for my reaction.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">" YEEEEAH!!!!" I punched the air in happiness. "All my life I have been cursed with such a stupid worthless power that I don't even like, but now I have mind control!!! AWESOME!!!" I screamed.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> Lavender and Rowan had the most baffled and bewildered looks on their faces you can possibly imagine.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oi, don't get cocky. Anyway, I could have stopped it if I'de wanted, it just took me by suprise." added Rowan indignitly.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oh, yeah, right, of course, and don't bother with all that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit crap" I laughed. " GET DOWN!!" I imitated her screaming voice when she had dived behind the counter, sniggering all the while.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "No, really, look at this!" She said. She began to stare at the ground in a kind of creepy way, and then started moving her hands in an intricate motion, almost like a dance, and then suddenly a vine erupted out of the ground, and started to mirror her movements. She let it fall after a few seconds, and smiled smugly at my face.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "That. Is. So. COOL!" I yelled.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Show off..." I heard Lavender mutter.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " How'd you do that?" I questioned.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> In reply however, she merely tapped her finger to the side of her nose.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> There was a slightly awkward silence then.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Well...I guess I had better be off then...Ya'know, gotta find a place to stay...Unless of course..." I left the sentence hanging, and stared directly at Rowan. When she didn't respond, I said " I would be awesome if I knew someone who I could stay with" I said and coughed twice, and in between coughs I said hint hint.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> " Well, you know, you could always stay with me." Said Rowan.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> If I could have jumped I would have, but the ankle you know...</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> "Oh yes, yes, yes please!!!" I squealed, and wrapped my arms around her for a hug.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> My other life was like a faded photo now. It seemed a million years ago, even though it was mere hours. And although I had been thrust into a world of freaky/cool powers, animated shadows that toss innocent girls like stirfry, and dancing vines, when I look back on today, lying on Rowans couch, which I was using as a makeshift bed, ankle in bandage after Rowans attempt at stablising it till we got a chance for hospital, I really don't recall ever being happier.</span></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> <b><i><u>To Be Continued..</u></i></b></span><iframe class="AttachmentDownloadIframe" frameborder="0" framespacing="0" id="downloadFrame" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no"></iframe> </div><div style="display: none;"></div>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-44611251395030351322011-07-25T15:44:00.000-07:002011-07-30T14:21:03.145-07:00Cold Crimson (SP Fan-fiction)<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***UPDATE***</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-8770607975727949669">There was a crackle of lightning, forking through the sky, followed closely by a rumble of thunder. Rain poured down heavily, coming down hard, and under a cemetery, there was a young girl, aged seven or eight, plotting and planning. She shivered from the cold, and hugged herself tight. She had shoulder-lenght dark brown hair, almost black, with touches of auburn, and a dark beauty about her. She crept from her stone-walled cold room, fully dressed, her dark eyes darting from side to side in anxiety. She shivered again. The cold weather really wasn't doing anything for the already freezing temple. She knew there were patrols keeping an eye out, and it would look suspicious to be creeping around so late at night. But to avoid detection, she planned to use a new trick she had learned. She bunched her fists, and called on her death magic. Even at a young age, she'd always thought she'd had a thing for it. Necromacy, that is. When she clenched her fists, the shadows from the hall appeared to slither to her side, and merge with her, concealing her from the prying eyes of the patrols. It was a strange sensation, wearing the shadows like a cloak, yet strangely comforting. It made her feel safe, though it was like wearing marble. Cold. Hard. But strong, and protective. She let her mind wander, thinking of what His Eminence would do when he discovered one of his finest, and disobedient had fled. Maybe he wouldn't care. Or maybe they wouldn't stop trying to hunt her down. There was only one reason that she had not fled earlier. Sorel. Her best friend, whom she loved, but it was Sorel who so strictly followed the Necromancer teachings, that she so strongly disagreed with. This was why, regretfully, she could not inform her of her leaving. She wondered how she would react. She knew Sorel had little friends, so she would be lonely, but surely she would adjust-<br />
"Hey!" There came a shout to snap the girl from her daze. She had been letting her mind wander and therefore let her guise drop. The patrol ran for her, but she was smart. She knew he would not like the idea of attacking a seven year old. She smiled and ran, ran through the halls she had lived most her life. She was lighter and faster, so beat the patrol. She was almost at the exit, but all the noise had woken quite a few people. And more patrols. She skidded left, and turned sharply, heading for a large ebony bookcase, from which she grabbed a book. She glanced at its title <em>The Dark Art Of Necromacy.</em> She saw some people had come from their rooms. Boys and girls of her age and a little older gawped at her moxie and bold attitude. She though little of them, until she saw Sorels pale face, framed by dirty blonde hair, gaping at her. But it was the hurt in her eyes, the <em>How could you?</em> look that she was giving her, the look that sent daggers of ice into her heart. She faltered for a second, but a second was all that was needed by the patrols. One leaped at her, and because she was so light knocked her to the floor. But she snarled and summoned up shadows to shove him off her. That was all she could do with her limited knowledge of the magic. Then she turned tail and ran, ran out the doors, out into the cemetory, teeming with death, into the street, and ran into the dark stormy night, into which no one followed. <br />
<div style="clear: both;"></div></div><div class="post-footer"><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard"> ***</span></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard"><strong><em><u>6 Years Later..</u></em></strong></span></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"></div><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span class="post-author vcard">Crimson rubbed her bony arms in a pathetic attempt to generate heat into her ice cold body. It was december, and she was in Dublin, Ireland, and she had no were to go. She was pale, and her lips had turned blue from the cold. She hugged herself tight, as the snow fell more heavily, the snowflakes gently caressing her face. She chuckled to herself, as she thought of one thing Necromancy couldn't do, which was generate heat. She was cold, and so very tired. She felt her eyelids getting heavier. The dark, welcoming arms of sleep beckoned her towards it, but she knew that if she fell into this slumber, it would be unlikely that she would wake. But it would be so easy to just close her eyes, and lie down. She could escape all her problems. There would be no more, long, cold hungry nights, and sleep tormented by nightmares of Sorel attacking her, or being discovered by the Necromancers. There would be no more running. She saw a tear roll down her cheek, which she could no longer feel, because of the cold. She couldn't live like this. But she was so tired, that nothing mattered. She was so numb, she didn't care. She felt her eyelids close, as she fell into the eager arms of sleep..</span></div></div><script src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js">
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</script>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-45250236548725366992011-07-25T10:56:00.001-07:002011-07-25T10:56:45.891-07:00P.S.You can call me C, to avoid confusion, because both names begin with C. :)Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-904992857239690032011-07-25T10:55:00.000-07:002011-07-25T10:55:26.789-07:00I have something to say<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As you may have noticed, I changed my name, from Crescent Nightmare, to Crimson Nightmare. I am geniunly sorry, to those I have confused, I this post is to say that I am still the same person, and this isn't a diffrent blog or anything. Ok, I would like to state my reasons for my name change. Firstly, I hate the name Crescent. I'm sorry but, its just not for me, and it didn't make any sense to me. But then I stumbled across the name Crimson, and immediatly fell in love with it :) And I think that Crimson Nightmare makes sooo much more sense, because it makes me think of someone having a nightmare that involves blood, which is red, or CRIMSON. You see where im going with this? :D</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I would like to put out a massive apoligy to Dragona, whom I know is sensitive to these things. And also to Kallista, because I know shes so nice that she would try to be on pines side and mine too. But its ok Kal, I don't mind. And Pine im really not trying to start a fight, your my friend, and I don't like seeing you upset, but I'm not changing my name back, and thats final. You can ban me from Aquilas blog, and you can ban me from the Overflow blog, but thats ok, because I know that your sensitive to these things. Thats all I wanted to say really. Bye.</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-55185775797488199592011-07-19T15:35:00.000-07:002011-07-19T15:35:16.867-07:00Sorry For The Deprivation..<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">..Of le blog that is. I have been kinda busy. My cousin stayed over for 5 days and..well I've just been generelly busy, but I have some awesomesauce incarnate news..:D I can barely contain my excitment, really, because I have loadsa new projects for le blog!! :D Like in saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2, and am writing a review on it, though every time I write a review, it turns out to be a summary, but whenever I have the time I will finish it and post it here. I also have LOADS of EPIC ideas for fan-fics, and you have no idea how much its exciting me, seriously, I CANNOT wait to get writing again, cos its been so long, because I took a break from my writing course which I have been going to for FIVE years. I just realised that. Since I'm 13, and have been going since I was 9 etc. Any way I miss it so..Yeah. My cousin is so common, but she denies it, and its just SOOO funny XD. Anyway, guess what? Someone threw an apple at my face today, and it HURT. ALOT. And I NEVER cry, but I started bawling like a baby, and it was plain embarresing. But I blame D. Thats code-name for the person who threw it on me. But I leave you with this...CHOCOLATE RAIN, CHOCOLATE RAIN, SOME STAY DRY WHILST OTHERS FEEL THE PAIN, OF CHOCOLATE RAAAAAIN!!</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-91759761978885124122011-07-11T07:30:00.001-07:002011-07-11T07:47:00.509-07:00Don't f****** cry...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCNHVMIYqiA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCNHVMIYqiA</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I'm trying so hard to not cry..but its all over in a matter of days!! My whole childhood!! It means so much...FFUUUUUUUUUU I'm actually crying right now, listening to that song..It holds so many childhood memories, and means so much to me..I DON'T WANT THE MAGIC TO END. But I will never ever again feel the excitment of a new Harry Potter movie ever again, or here this wonderful music accomanying a new movie...I can't believe I'm actually crying...:'( I can't believe its ending..its so surreal...There are just no word to describe what something as small and insignificant as a movie means to me. I have grown up with these movies. I saw the first one when I was three years old, and since then I have continually watched the movies and as I did I grew up, and so did the characters. Now I have to go and listen to this song over and over and over and over etc because I want to relieve my childhood so bad, this is what I am doing. And crying. :'l</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-28119614739621805782011-07-08T10:17:00.000-07:002011-07-08T10:17:58.556-07:00AHDFNENFHJEBVJIEHFBHVOMG SKULL-DRESS!!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I bought a dress, covered with teeny little skulls all over it, and its bweautiful!! I just had to tell youuuuuus. May post a pic if your good ;D</span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805248282604299598.post-7366799714882460452011-07-06T09:26:00.000-07:002011-07-06T09:26:56.203-07:00Swagger Jagger<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Swagger Jagger. Cher Lloyds new song. I have just viewed it on youtube. And my reaction..?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Oh Dear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I'm going to be honest with you here. Rebecca Blacks Friday was better than this. Seriously. Its at that rate. Now, I have absalutly NO idea what the HELL she was doing during the duration of that music video. All I know was that I would have thought it was illegal to use dead cats as hair extensions..?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Most of the music/noise in this is basiclly a horn, or siren, which just iritates me. And she seems to think that I " Can't stop lookin' at me, staring at me, be what I be!" Talk about bad vocab skills. I don't "be what she be. That makes no sense, whatsoever. I think Miss. Lloyd needs to speak to Indi, and get some real songwriting skills. And I'd really rather not look at her..And I suppose when she says we're writing about her and tweeting about her, yes thats true, though she doesn't seem to realise that its not always nice things we write about you Miss. Lloyd..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And those signature loop earings, bandana used as a hairband, worringingly strange facial expressions, and the adidas looking brand shoes...all obvious signs of her being, to put it simply, a chav. And then for her song, to take a worst turn. At the start its quick, and rough, and then it slows down abruptly, leaving me quite baffled, as she wails "Swagger Jagger, swagger jagger, you should get sooome of your own." Maybe we would if any of us actually knew what it was..Maybe its a disease involving too much adidas and foundation...And when she says "GET ON THE FLAAAAAW!!" I can't help but burst out laughing at the way she says floor. Flaaaaw!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And then at the end shes pressing some buttons on her ipod, and then picks up a boombox as if people actually still walk down the street with those, but it makes no sense why she would need a boombox if she has in ipod. But all in all, she hasn't done her self any favours. There were so many things wrong with it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And so</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">there was my crippling review of swagger jagger. I think Cher Lloyd is the definition of a tangerine whos not orange. she has all the other qualities..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">To see Swagger Jagger for yourself, click here! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdbyG2MrBHk">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdbyG2MrBHk</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong><em><u>(</u></em></strong><strong><em><u>Warning, viewing this content may cause distress, and mental scarring. Viewer discretion is strongly advised)</u></em></strong></span>Crescenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17775286967183381404noreply@blogger.com2