Ferocious Fictionality

[finniii]

Fang fingered the different strings on his violin, bow moving perfectly in sync with his lightning fast fingers. ((This song.)) ((A bit like that, but more handsome, no piano or techno beat, no indoor audience, and a bit more talented...))
The notes striked down the hallway, filling each crevice in the hall with the tight notes in this song. He held a black rose with red tips in between his lips. His mint green eyes flicked over each note, highly concentrated. The song ended, fading out slowly, an echo in its wake. He set down his bow, the tip making a soft click when it hit the desk. He sighed and softly fell to the chair behind him. The huge book cases around him caused no excitment for him anymore. He had read every book when he was 7. Even the dictionary. He glanced around the room, calculating the dimensions again.

He sat up, pacing. In a flash, he took out a book and flipped to page 132. With a spontaneous burst of anger, he threw the book at the opposite wall. It hit with a thud, landing on the floor.

Fang paced rapidly, suddenly throwing a lamp on the floor, pushing over a bookshelf. He pulled at his fine blonde hair, mint eyes glancing around, even faster than humanly possible. He ran over to the library desk, throwing papers this was and that. He then picked up a drawer and threw it on the ground. It knocked over his violin, slowly. In an instant, less than a second actually, he had it in his arms. His anxious eyes glanced over the entire violin, checking it for any scratches. He sighed and set it down on the desk, the desk being ruined from so many random bursts of anger. He then sighed and turned to the 78 foot by 92 foot wall. 72 foot by 87 foot of it was full of writing and equations that were about 2 inches tall.  

[bones and rot]

Ⓐⓢⓟⓗⓞⓓⓔⓛ

☆┏━━━━━━━━━━┓
||☆If reality could sing. . . .☆
☆┗━━━━━━━━━━┛

The dirty blonde haired girl sat on her tan colored bed, her entire small figure leaning against the orange wall. Her eyes stayed shut and her breathing was slow and relaxed. Right beside her lay a sketchbook with a rough sketch of an unfamiliar face. The young woman opened her eyes slightly as she scanned the room for anything unusual. Sighing, she pushed herself off the wall with the help of her two thin arms. Her pale blue eyes spotted the sketch on her notebook, her face flooding with a pained anger. She picked up the notebook, her hand reaching over the edge of the paper, ripping it out of its binding. She angrily ripped the paper in half. Soon ripping it again in many pieces. Right on the corner of one of the pieces of paper she had ripped, was a name in distinct and dark writing. Her name, Asphodel.

Asphodel stood up from her tan colored bed, brushing her golden locks to the side with her slender hand. Glancing over the many paintings and drawings on her orange wall, she ripped out one particular sketch from the wall. The drawing similar to the previous one she had ripped. Asphodel crumpled the paper this time, throwing it in the garbage.

She walked over to her bed, sitting down slowly. Her hands sticking out behind her to aid her descent. Asphodel sighed once more, the air coming out as mist in front of her. Her eyes drifted shut, her breathing becoming slow and relaxed once more.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓☆
☆. . . .I'm sure it would sing a sad tale.☆||
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛☆

 

[iiRain Bao]

((How do you do the If reality could sing thing????))

The Dreaming Panda

Ⓐⓢⓟⓗⓞⓓⓔⓛ

☆┏━━━━━━━━━━┓
||☆If reality could sing. . . .☆
☆┗━━━━━━━━━━┛

The dirty blonde haired girl sat on her tan colored bed, her entire small figure leaning against the orange wall. Her eyes stayed shut and her breathing was slow and relaxed. Right beside her lay a sketchbook with a rough sketch of an unfamiliar face. The young woman opened her eyes slightly as she scanned the room for anything unusual. Sighing, she pushed herself off the wall with the help of her two thin arms. Her pale blue eyes spotted the sketch on her notebook, her face flooding with a pained anger. She picked up the notebook, her hand reaching over the edge of the paper, ripping it out of its binding. She angrily ripped the paper in half. Soon ripping it again in many pieces. Right on the corner of one of the pieces of paper she had ripped, was a name in distinct and dark writing. Her name, Asphodel.

Asphodel stood up from her tan colored bed, brushing her golden locks to the side with her slender hand. Glancing over the many paintings and drawings on her orange wall, she ripped out one particular sketch from the wall. The drawing similar to the previous one she had ripped. Asphodel crumpled the paper this time, throwing it in the garbage.

She walked over to her bed, sitting down slowly. Her hands sticking out behind her to aid her descent. Asphodel sighed once more, the air coming out as mist in front of her. Her eyes drifted shut, her breathing becoming slow and relaxed once more.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓☆
☆. . . .I'm sure it would sing a sad tale.☆||
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛☆

 

[magedude299]

Shina Yoshina

"How can you save something that's already dead?"
-Shina Yoshina, before being subdued for killing a parent and overhearing "get her to the hospital!" from a nurse.

Shina layed down on his bed, looking out the window. "Now's my chance to escape from this flimsy place..." He thought. He looked at the reinforced glass, then got out a pocketknife from his desk* and opened a hole in the window with it. He slid through the hole, dropping from the two-story building and into the bushes. A guard saw him, and ran after him. Shina then saw the guard. "I don't want to do this..." Shina said to the guard. He took out a doll of the guard, then poked its belly with a needle. The real guard fell down on the ground, bleeding. "Ugh..." The guard said. Shina then took the doll, took it's head off, and poked the "stomach" ball of the doll. Inside the real guard's body, the stomach acid started to leak out of the hole that Shina made with the voodoo doll. "You've got 5 minutes to live..." Shina said, noticing more guards were coming. The guards caught him, and put him back in his room with the door locked. "Feh... The escape was a longshot anyways..." The boy said, before falling asleep.

*He stole it from a parent.  

[bones and rot]

iiRain Bao

((How do you do the If reality could sing thing????))

The Dreaming Panda

Ⓐⓢⓟⓗⓞⓓⓔⓛ

☆┏━━━━━━━━━━┓
||☆If reality could sing. . . .☆
☆┗━━━━━━━━━━┛

The dirty blonde haired girl sat on her tan colored bed, her entire small figure leaning against the orange wall. Her eyes stayed shut and her breathing was slow and relaxed. Right beside her lay a sketchbook with a rough sketch of an unfamiliar face. The young woman opened her eyes slightly as she scanned the room for anything unusual. Sighing, she pushed herself off the wall with the help of her two thin arms. Her pale blue eyes spotted the sketch on her notebook, her face flooding with a pained anger. She picked up the notebook, her hand reaching over the edge of the paper, ripping it out of its binding. She angrily ripped the paper in half. Soon ripping it again in many pieces. Right on the corner of one of the pieces of paper she had ripped, was a name in distinct and dark writing. Her name, Asphodel.

Asphodel stood up from her tan colored bed, brushing her golden locks to the side with her slender hand. Glancing over the many paintings and drawings on her orange wall, she ripped out one particular sketch from the wall. The drawing similar to the previous one she had ripped. Asphodel crumpled the paper this time, throwing it in the garbage.

She walked over to her bed, sitting down slowly. Her hands sticking out behind her to aid her descent. Asphodel sighed once more, the air coming out as mist in front of her. Her eyes drifted shut, her breathing becoming slow and relaxed once more.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓☆
☆. . . .I'm sure it would sing a sad tale.☆||
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛☆

[Actually, I don't know. I just asked my friend to format this for me. The whole box and stars thing.]  

[The Phantom of GO]

Sorry if I'm being a bit of a late-comer to this party, but my vacation's been all too bittersweet.

Profile

Username: Fantomex Reborn
Name: Diabolos Battore
Son Of: Countess Elizabeth Bathory
Traits Received: A prodigy's mind, a charming, yet seductive nature, and a curious fascination towards blood.
What Room Looks Like: Dark, rich red walls with elegant black Victorian trimmings near the dark red ceiling and black wood floor. The bed is made of black wood with white sheets, with red pillows and a black blanket that has Victorian initials reading: "D.B." There is a black wood bedside table, fancy reading desk, and a Victorian-style closet. Two plush chairs lie about, with dark red upholstery, and a black steel fridge/freezer lies in the fart left corner, next to his bedside table. All his belongings are either red and/or black, and no windows are in his room.
Age: 17
Bad Habits: Cutting himself, and attracting girls only to torture them at night, usually mentally, though a few times have been physically.
Bad Traits: Has hallucinations and dreams of being covered or surrounded in a bathtub of blood, and has been known to physically and mentally torture people.
Appearance (Words): Has quite care-free lazy, tousled black medium to long hair, piercing dark brown/black eyes, and pale, though still vibrantly alive, skin. His build is lean and tall, reaching 6' 4", yet quite muscled, especially around his arms, chest, back, abs, and legs. He likes wearing more formal clothing of any style at any time, unless, of course, it's bed time or he's going to exercise. He's often seen wearing glasses, though he only needs them to read.
Personality: He's a quiet, though fascinatingly captive by both looks and manners. He's very charming, certainly intelligent, and quite bright, showing it through school and the arts (varying from music to theater), but he has the strangest fetish towards blood, though he also is scared of immense amounts of it. Most of the time, he tries to stay stable and composed, but there have been times where he's broken down due to his fears...
Accent: A faint Romanian huskiness in his voice.  

[The Phantom of GO]

"The Savage Bows Down To Idols Of Wood And Stone..."

"... The Civilized Man To Idols Of Flesh And Blood."

Diabolos Battore - The Son of Countess Elizabeth Bathory
... A Young Prodigy With A Captive Nature And A Strange Fascination Towards Blood...

A late teenage boy with care-free, tousled medium-long black hair, dark piercing dark brown, almost black, eyes, and pale, yet vibrant, skin, was sitting in an ornate black wood chair with dark red upholstery, so very close to the screen that his body was inches from the keyboard of a menacing-looking black computer with red glowing lights on the side of the system's unit, where his fingers were typing crazily. He was, in truth, writing some sort of essay or report for the community college he went to ten minutes from this place he has lived in all his life; an orphanage for the crazy children of the damned and demented; creatures and monsters either did or didn't exist... A thing he's discovered long, long ago, it still remains a very faint memory and piece of information buried in the deep recesses in his mind, covered up by his studies and other various things that he's found, later on in his life, far more important that worrying about such matters. All he wants to do now is either reach twenty-one, an age hardly reached by experiments except a choice few, so he can legally be dismissed by the orphanage (whether it'll be done by default or force, time has yet to tell), or get adopted.

Finally finishing his report, he read it over. It was one about his own mother, Elizabeth Bathory, though nobody else really knows that fact or has connected the pieces except the care-givers, guards, and scientists that roam the facility. Smiling, he could only sigh, "A beautiful, yet gore-filled history report to describe the beautiful, yet gore-filled life of such a woman like her." He saved the word document, then shut down with the computer, which snuffed out like an electronic flame. He decided upon going to bed, and changed into his black silk pajama pants. Thinking it was too hot for a shirt, he simply slipped under the covers and laid there, staring up at his charcoal black ceiling...

He just couldn't sleep, though. For a few minutes he looked up, trying to count the number of bumps upon the ceiling, then stared down at his blanket, reading the embroidered initials upon it, which were in a strong, elegant Victorian script: D.B. 'D.B... Diabolos Battore... My name... Hiding the secret that I'm related to one Elizabeth Bathory... Also once known as the Blood Countess,' he thought slowly and thoroughly, 'A secret that I never knew... Until the day I turned thirteen, just entering the 'teenage' phase of one's life... Then all this madness began, and the orphanage revealed its true colors...'

 

[iiRain Bao]

A tall gracefull young woman's frame was outlined to be laying on her back from the blood red sheets. Her legs and arms spread out carelessly. Her thin, perfectly manicured nails played with the laced fringe of her sleeve on her long black and crimson red Victorian ball dress. Her dainty feet that were covered in her spiderweb design stocking were hanging off the lush bed.

Her captivating crimson eyes watched the pitch black chandelier that hung above her, partially misted over from the black drape that went over the bed posts.

Her left hand reached out a bit for her nightstand, where a stack of letters were sitting.
All were letters from her father, years old. They were in calligraphy on old papyrus. She had never written him back.

A small smile played on her lips. She knew her father was probably too busy to even read if she sent a letter back. Probably getting married for the 521,234th time.

Her head was resting on a small black throw pillow with fringes differentiating between black and red colors, her beautiful hair held a white hue without seeming elderly fading to blood red tips. She had no reason to get up, the world would go on.

When you're immortal, life loses its urgency.  

[bones and rot]

Ⓐⓢⓟⓗⓞⓓⓔⓛ

☆┏━━━━━━━━━━┓
||☆If reality could sing. . . .☆
☆┗━━━━━━━━━━┛

She watched them from afar. Not because she was any kind of stalker or some sort, but because she envied them. Her hand reached up to touch the cold window pane. Her ocean eyes following the happy and awkward movements of the child and her father. If life was the same for her, it would be enough. The young woman sighed softly, turning her body around to walk out of the depressing room that was filled with such thick air. It was no use sulking anymore. What was done was done.

She wandered around the dim lit hallway, pausing for a second in front of a dark, black and red door. Her azure eyes tracing over the lined wood. She breathed out nervously, turning on her heel to wander someplace else.

It was no use bothering anyone else.

In the end, she was just.. alone.

Asphodel stopped in front of black, thick double doors. Her figure shrinking and cringing from the sight of it. From within the caged walls came freezing air, the atmosphere around her turning dark and sinister. She hurriedly turned away and outside the orphanage. What use was there to stay in such a gloomy place when all it did was bring depression and sadness to all who stepped inside the cursed building?

The young girl glanced at the misplaced, odd looking orphanage, the bright red paint peeling away. She shuddered, her hand tightly clenching itself. The building looked so friendly. Setting a warm disposition to it. When in fact, dark secrets were being swept behind the shallow walls. The horrors and lies manifesting within. She turned her head away from the hideous dark red door, tilting her face upwards to look at a particular window. Her room. Her deep ocean blue eyes wandered its way across the building, at the different colored windows. Her face scrunched up into a frown, seething anger hiding behind her calm exterior.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓☆
☆. . . .I'm sure it would sing a sad tale.☆||
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛☆

 

[The Phantom of GO]

"The Savage Bows Down To Idols Of Wood And Stone..."

"... The Civilized Man To Idols Of Flesh And Blood."

Diabolos Battore - The Son of Countess Elizabeth Bathory
... A Young Prodigy With A Captive Nature And A Strange Fascination Towards Blood...

Diabolos heard footsteps pass outside his door and couldn't help but think, 'That's odd... It's not time for the guards to come around again for another night patrolling round. They usually don't start until in about thirty minutes... Hm.' He couldn't help but investigate. He just had to.

He slipped out from under his covers, then slowly and silently opened the door to his room: a great Oak one that was red with black elegant Victorian curls playfully dodging the outer frame. It creaked, though he felt sure that it was took quiet for one to notice. All he caught a glimpse of when it was open enough for him to see was a strand of beautiful blonde hair just barely whisper past the great huge, intimidating black double doors. He snuck past the other rooms and pushed through the very same doors, finding them heavier than even his own bedroom's, and, upon making it, saw one of the other experiments-slash-orphans standing before him.

He couldn't help but feel a bit all too revealing, for he was only wearing his black satin pajama pants, and he was sure his pale complexion was reflecting against what little light was out there at night. Mustering a pathetically embarrassed half-smile, he whispered, "Hey... You know, the guards ought to be circling about for their rounds soon... Nobody wants to be caught, now do they?"

 

[finniii]

Fang was in the middle of discovering a theory to invisiblity when some soft footsteps outside of the Library door interuppted his thoughts. With great frusteration, he opened the massive old oak doors. He saw a flash of black hair, and Fang growled. That ignorant Diablos! Fang followed, his footsteps eerily silent.

"It seems Shina wanted to be caught, so I don't see a reason not to be a conformist." Fang replied coming out of the shadows. "Look. You can stop whispering, I dropped some theoretical structure enhancers. Also, the gaurds are on detour, because I set one on fire." He said crossly. He had only helped them because one reason, curiousness. "Now what exactly are you two lovebirds doing?" His sharp mint green eyes seemed to be glowing in the moonlight. It could be from the radiation he was dealing with, but its up to you to decide.  

[The Phantom of GO]

[[ Out. Of. Champagne: Just for people's information, iiRain Bao got hacked and II Jello II is her alternate account. ]]  

[magedude299]

(Isn't II Jello II Fruity toothpaste 030?)  

[The Phantom of GO]

[[ Out. Of. Champagne: Yeah. ]]

magedude299

(Isn't II Jello II Fruity toothpaste 030?)

 

[bones and rot]

Ⓐⓢⓟⓗⓞⓓⓔⓛ

☆┏━━━━━━━━━━┓
||☆If reality could sing. . . .☆
☆┗━━━━━━━━━━┛

[ Haaii! Okay then(: Thanks for letting us know! ]

The small figured girl snorted in surprise as she was caught wandering. 'Darn... And here I thought I was going to get some quiet around here.' She turned around abruptly, her azure eyes blinking in surprise at the boy behind her. Asphodel's gaze examined the young man in the silk clothing before her eyes caught another person who had also spoken. "None of your business." She replied softly, to the boy with the blonde hair. Her ears simply catching the slight british accent he had. Her eyes wandered back to the ground, clasping her hands behind her. She rocked back and forth on her heels. Letting the suffocating silence stretch among them.

She usually didn't interact with others.

She never really found the time to.

Her eyes nervously jumped from the two men in front of her. Her ocean blue eyes focusing itself particularly on the black haired man. She tilted her head downwards again, the golden locks hiding her somewhat scowling face. His words rang in her head, "Nobody wants to get caught..." Like they were going to catch her. Tch.

The young girl jerked her head upwards, finding herself staring at the black-haired man. There she was again. Rambling and talking to no-one but herself. She grinned foolishly and shrugged, a small lie easily rolling off her tongue. "Me? Get caught? Tch, even if they tried to.. they wouldn't be able to catch me." Behind her too cheerful face lay her ugly insecurities.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓☆
☆. . . .I'm sure it would sing a sad tale.☆||
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛☆