Xion shut her eyes, trying to place herself far away, but it did no good. She felt something try to get out of her, but she held it in. It wasn't supposed to come yet, it was too early. "Make it stop, make it stop." she didn't realize she was murmuring this over and over, her nails digging into her palms.
*bites* You aren't, not yet 8D
; ; That hurts.
Full name: Alianne Deros Username: Decesso Age: 18 Class: Dark Angel Bio: She doesn't remember much, she just remembers when she woke up two years ago thirsting for blood. After that, any companions she took on, because they were attracted to her for her looks, or because they were friends, became her next meal. She became cold hearted, and now roams alone, unfamiliar with normal food or new clothing such as muffin. Personality: Sarcastic, pessimistic, and lonely, she tries to look ahead when making decisions. Tattoo and where is it: N/A Weapon(s): An arm length knife that can flip open into a sword, or shift into a gun like machine that fires short range, but takes forever to recharge. Sexuality: Female Crush/soulmate: N/A at the moment. Miscellaneous: http://i625.photobucket.com/albums/tt332/kaymoy04/dcfcead4d0ed6c181.jpg Appearance: http://i625.photobucket.com/albums/tt332/kaymoy04/fairy-141.jpg Without the wings.
Xion cringed, gasping. "It hurts, it hurts, make it stop!" she whisper screamed, clutching her stomach. Her head whirled, but not enough to make the pain go away. "God, make it go away." Another explosion of pain rocked her body, making her eyes run with tears.
O_o /////////////////
Xion shook her head, weakly trying to push him away. "There has to be something..." her eyes widened and she grabbed her stomach, biting her lip. Pain surged through her, a huge wave of pain. She tasted blood in her mouth, she must have bitten through her lip. Her head spun. God......
I honestly don't see how Dissidia is worth it. I'd much rather have a new car and my license. Lol, Fayt. Lol.
That might be best left for PM....
I'm always late, dammit. OC Form Username: Decesso Name: Cally Drego Age: 18 Appearance: Spoiler [IMG*]http://i625.photobucket.com/albums/tt332/kaymoy04/fairy-141.jpg[/IMG] without the wings. Personality: Sarcastic, tenative, and usually pessimistic. She likes trying new things but only with people she knows. She doesn't mind helping other people, but hates being commented upon. History: Her family was killed by the infected, and she now lives by herself, staying out of sight and trying to stay alive. She has no allegiances. Weapon: Knife that can elongate into a sword/gun. The gun only has short ranges. Other: Lady frickin Grey 8D Preview Post: Cally scrubbed the counter clean, making the wood shine with her hard work. She sighed, then pressed her back against the counter, looking up at the ceiling. Day after day she hide. Well good for her. Maybe she should go out, try to see something new. She cringed inwardly, then smashed her fist against the counter, wincing. Turning, she went to the door, unlocked the several bolts, and opened it, looking outside.
Dare me to recite everything right here right now?
I'm the one who watches everyone pass out, and draws marker mustache over them. >|
Past Issues It hadn’t always been this way. Rachel remembered when she had been alone, fighting in the hallways of her high school, making more enemies then friends. Often times she walked alone in alleys, hoping to get caught by the wrong sort of people, so she could beat them half to death. Wearing only black, her hair cut short to her shoulders, she prowled the streets. Nighttime was her favorite. Her mother was a drunk, so she didn’t know or care when her only daughter came home. Wandering the streets at night might not have been a good idea for anyone but Rachel. She couldn’t care less about the muggers, rapists, or thieves that prowled the streets. Any of them that picked a fight with her usually ended up dead. Fighting came natural, like an instinct. It had been on one of these wanderings that she had been caught by a gang. Turned out she had beat up the gang’s leader badly, and they wanted revenge. Rachel could handle four at once, but six was more then too much. It was after they had pinned her back against the wall, punching her again and again, that Jason had come. He flashed out of nowhere, taking out the second in command. Without directions, they had crumbled. He hadn’t said much, just his name. They had been friends from that day onward. He was her second in command, her confidante and friend through it all. They had never been on a mission without each other. He had her back and she had his. They had recruited Shia from a gang downtown. Jason wouldn’t say how he found Tanya, or what he had said, but she had trusted Rachel from the start. Greg had just started hanging out with them in school. He had just appeared, and they had accepted him. They were the outcasts of the world, the people that would never fit in. Not quite disappearing, but not quite molding in with the rest either. A group, they had become united, strong. No one bothered them, as they had as individuals. No one played pranks on them, or dared too. Rachel knew, as she was sure all of her group knew, that they scared people. After they had begun teaching each other tricks, they began to move with a silent, almost predator like grace. No one was really sure when the tradition started, but they were known as “The Pack.†The name stuck, and they began to refer to themselves as a pack. Almost like their own family. A light hand on her shoulder shook her out of her thoughts. Rachel smiled a little at Jason, then crept forward, watching the lights wink out one by one. Not that that would make anything harder. She blinked, adjusting her eyes, then looked back. Greg and Jason both nodded once, and she leapt forward, feeling her muscles shift, her bones elongate. This was what she was. Her eyes sharpened, her teeth grew pointier, longer. Ears grew into small ovals on the sides of her now black and flattened head. She landed gently in front of the door, her golden green eyes glinting. Rachel saw herself in the reflection of a broken window. A sleek strong body, almost faded with the ground. Spots were hard to see on a panther, but they were there, black rosettes almost blending in with her dark fur. She took a small crouching step forward, froze, took another step, and froze again, blending in each time. Now she could hunt, as she was supposed to do. Now she herself, a night predator, a panther. Next one won't be so rushed, I'll have more time on the comp.
Xion shook her head, almost crying. "I think something happened to it. The baby. I want to know if it's okay. I need it to be okay..." she whispered, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
Xion sat up, wincing, pressing a hand to her stomach. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see...but could see nothing. Panic swept over her. "Look, I don't know your name, but I was pregnant, about three months. I think something happened. Do you have anything to help me see if...." she swallowed past the lump in her throat.
Xion started, then watched him, her blue eyes confused. "Why wouldn't I? You had to kill her, it was either that or be eliminated yourself. I saved you because I can't watch someone die. It was my choice."
Aly watched him, slightly nervous, but mostly calm. He couldn't really touch her, coudln't really hurt her. "John...if you don't want to answer, you don't have to, but.....you seem..." she was hesitant.
Choking, she slowly caught her breath, not daring to open her eyes. She knew who it was. "Why?" she asked, her voice no louder then a whisper. "I saved you, but.....why?" she winced as something wrenched back together in her stomach, then went still. The bad feeling was gone, but she wasn't sure what it had been replaced by yet.
I got one from an eighty year old woman claiming to be my mother. And I don't even have facebook.
That would be their left, but I still lol'ed.
