Post by Deleted on Jul 30, 2013 20:14:47 GMT
XANDER LIAM WILLEM
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Height/Weight: 5'8" ; 132 lbs
Shape: Muscular and lean like a man who works out.
Style: He normally wears jeans, a nice tee, and an over shirt, but when he is working, he will wear a nice suit but nothing too fancy in order to allow others to feel comfortable around him.
Play By: Dave Annable
Age: 29 (December 23, 1983)
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Occupation: Head Librarian at the local high school during the school year and Head Librarian at Camp Onii during the summer.
Unusual Behaviour: He sometimes will get into an almost brooding phase that he cannot always get himself out of immediately. He usually has to go somewhere to isolate himself for a while until he can compose himself once more.
Habits or Quirks: He is a man of jokes and laughter, so being sily is something he will do quite often. He cannot help himself but make faces all the time that over represent his emotions in situations. He will often have conversations with himself in different voices but only when others are paying attention and he wants them to laugh.
Likes: Books, circles, logic, good nature, mythology
Dislikes: Butterflies, clowns, isolation, his lack of memory, nicknames
Other Info/Overall Personality: There are a few words that can completely describe him: silly, dramatic, kind, and vulnerable. Xander has always been a bit silly and dramatic because of his mother who was always a dramatic at heart. He always has been one for doing silly things like playing with everyone and doing dramatic things like making outlandish faces. He wants for people to be happy, so he will do whatever he thinks is necessary to make someone happy, whether it be silly antics, dramatic faces, or simple kind deeds. He never thinks of them as kind deeds though, which is why he is often thought of as genuine. He would never be happy unless everyone else was happy, and this is one of the two main causes of his occasional brooding. The second cause is his inability to function alone. He needs others to work with or else he feels as though he is unnecessary. This comes from how vulnerable he is. His vulnerability is his overall weakness. He wishes to please all at all times. If he had to choose between two people who are close to him, he often could not when he was younger. Now that he is older, he is able to choose more difficult decisions, but it continues to pain him.
Parents: Trudy Tara Willem/Deceased at 40/Female/Was head librarian at Public Library ; Blake Eugene Willem/55/Male/MIA
Siblings: Lyndon Dex Willem/29/Male/Unknown
Other Family: He also has a sister who is unknown to him. He name is Anjali Galatea Willem. She is thirteen at the moment.
Pets: None
History:
Alexander Bishop, a man that was not of any importance to the media world and preferably called Xander or possibly The X Man, was a man that tried to do only good for the fellow people who lived on Earth. Mr. Bishop had many friends who could say to anyone who asked for any reason that he was one of the most noble men they had ever known in all of their lives, which said a lot seeing as how most of his friends exceeded thirty usually being somewhere between early forties and late sixties. He himself was a stunning twenty-three when the fourth horsemen came knocking at his door. His dearest friends closest to him more than anyone else had ever been, he had not married in his shortened life-time, were all nearer his age though too were older at heart. His life-long friend Nicole “Nikki” Westchester had always been there for him when he needed her most, however, this time was the moment he truly needed a friend, and she was not there. It was just past seven a.m. on a summer’s hot eve down in a place remarkable to a certain extent before it became nothing but trashed piled upon trash: Los Angeles, California. He and several other young companions of his were staying at rather expensive hotel across the way of a lovely casino they had been going to for the past few days. Their alibi was that they all went to Montana to visit Nikki’s aunt whilst they studied her vast amount of vegetation. All five, for that was how many were on this trip, were studying in agricultural sciences and their field that they were working on now was more towards the plant sciences. The young adults had veered slightly from their original paths; it was an idea that having a little fun in this free world while they were still young. Alexander and Nikki became the leaders of this rebellious act. It was a lovely time they all had.
Arthur “Art” Reye, Danny “Vixen” Wright, and Callie “Celestial” Stevens were the three other companions that came with Nikki Westchester and Xander Bishop to Los Angeles on that life changing journey. Nikki was the one who brought both Art and Celestial to the group from previous events she had been a part of. Xander knew Vixen from personal matters several years before and was indeed part of how she got her own nickname. Withholding all such relations, the vibrant group was born.
This group was an odd group to peer upon for no one seemed to fit together: Art was a smart man who wished to enjoy life’s pleasures, Vixen was very into seducing the world in every way humanly possible, Celestial wished to be the world’s best friend, Nikki was an overpowering leader who had to have everything her way and perfect, and then there was Xander the sweet and kind man who wanted nothing more than to make people happy and save the place where they lived. It had to be the most dysfunctional family one could lay their eyes on.
Their lives changed on the third day of their trip to the city of angels.
Morning rose and wakened man at the break of dawn. Xander usually slept until at least eight in the morning yet he woke near six that morning. To his surprise, Art and Nikki had already been up for quite some time, Celestial was in her leveling stage, and Vixen was just waking up. The early rise for the group may have dazzled them momentarily but not enough to stop them from continuing on in their day’s festivities.
Their day started off with bickering. Xander felt that they should call their vacation short and go back to Nikki’s aunts that day and go on doing as they had said they were; the previous night had claimed quite interesting in Art and Vixen’s point of views. They had all been gambling, Xander at the table with the other four at his side the whole way, and were doing quite well. With Xander’s intellect, Vixen and Nikki’s bewildering charm, and Celestial’s new best friends, the five did exceedingly well in their gambling games. Some people became very upset with their opponents luck. After the game had ended, Xander winning the whole table, one big man and three other tough men following behind, pulled the group over and gave them a screaming. Seeing as how it appeared that Xander was the alpha of the wandering pack, the big man gave him an open threat: get out of town or he would end them all. Nikki laughed it off went they got back to the hotel and said it was all talk and that there was nothing to worry about. There was never anything to worry about with men who just talked. She then showed her appreciation of Xander’s brave doing for a good portion of the rest of the night before he headed off the couch to crash.
Nikki told Xander that morning that he was letting those bullies get to him. Celestial agreed that if they just went on and avoided the men, they would be fine through their last day of unknown vacation.
They split into groups that day: Celestial, Xander, and Nikki would go to the casino again while Art and Vixen went elsewhere, where that was, Nikki refused to tell Xander. They were at the casino the whole day, Xander worrying the majority of the time, until that night around nine when Nikki pulled him away from the crowd to express her feelings.
Between kisses, Nikki explained everything that she had been thinking in days’ past. She told him how she had wanted to pull him aside and escape from everyone else with him for the longest time. She said that Art and Vixen had the right idea of what to do on the night before their little inimical vacation ended. Xander was not sure about what Nikki was doing, but he felt for her more than anyone else he had ever met. He had always had Nikki and he felt that she may be right this one time: be with her for all he could.
All his joy disappeared; four men walked forward, the big man in the front looked awfully angry. Nikki clung to Xander like a frightened child who needed someone to rescue her as the angry man started to scream. He yelled out names they had never dared say, threatened to the point Xander thought this was pretty serious. And then the man drew out a gun. Nikki let her arms drop from around him. She backed away slightly. Two of the back men ran up and grabbed Xander. They struggled. Nikki was terrified shrieking Xander’s name over and over as he got beaten down by the bigger men. The grip on Xander got tighter and his struggling became more violent. He was getting tired; his struggling was becoming too hard to do. The gun was raised and was pointed straight at Xander. Nikki turned around and ran as fast and hard as she could leaving the scene of Xander struggling on his own. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a gunshot. She only ran faster. Art, Vixen, and Celestial never saw Nikki again nor did they know what had happened to Xander until several days later when it was over the news that they had found his body.
Nicole Westchester had died internally that day. She could not live with herself for what had happened and what she could not do. She had run out of Los Angeles and far away. She created a new identity, Trudy Mathers, and went back to college. She became a cook at a lovely restaurant where she met Blake Willem, the man she later married and had their first child. She would never forget her first love and her best friend. Her child was to be Xander Liam Willem, just Xander for if one was destined with a nickname, he might as well just be named such.
A year after Xander was born came Lyndon. Lyndon became Xander's best friend exceedingly fast. The were brothers, best friend, bros, and whatever two dudes five and six years old could be. Lyndon was everything to Xander. He was the number one priority and the person to protect. He meant the world. Finally, Xander had a true responsibility.
It was the summer just after Xander turned eighteen, and they went on the camping trip they always went on in the summer. It was what his father looked forward to the most. His father loved to hunt and loved to take the boys hunting. Xander could have lived without a week of shooting in the woods, but it made his father light up, something he did rather seldom lately.
On the third night of the trip, his parents got into an argument. Xander was out of the room when it happened, but he could hear it. Lyndon tried to tell him not to worry, but it was of no use. Xander hated it when they fought, which happened more often now, though he knew not the reason for it. He tried to concentrate on their game, but he was lost to it now, and Lyndon knew it.
There was a crash.
Xander and Lyndon both shot up and ran into the cabin's living room. The oil lamp had fallen over and caught the rug on fire. His father was shouting and his mother was backing away. Lyndon ran over to the rug trying to catch the fire before it spread. Xander was caught in a daze unsure what to do. His father grabbed his mother and threw her to the floor. Xander ran to his father pushing him to the side, trying desperately to get his father away from his nine month pregnant mother before anything too bad happened.
Lyndon was too later. The fire had already spread to the curtains and was spreading to the couch. It was growing too fast for them to do anything. They had to get out of the cabin.
Xander's father turned towards him angry, more angry than Xander had ever seen him. He was absolutely terrifying. He grabbed Xander and kneed him in the stomach as hard as he could then kicked him into the front door. The door cracked open and he fell to the floor. He was in excruciating pain. He could barely see. He had to get up and help, but he hurt so much. He heard a loud thud and his brother yelp. Then his mother screamed. It was a blood curdling scream that pained him more than all the injuries he was sure he had. He listened to her scream for what seemed like hours, but he could not move no matter how hard he tried. He finally was able to stand long enough to see his father running out the back. He looked for his mother and she saw her back where she laid on her side on the floor in a pool of blood. Lyndon was slumped on the floor against a wall. Xander slipped to the floor himself, put his hands on his knees, and cried.
Xander left his home town. Left the same state. Left to Pennsylvania and found a quaint little town where he became librarian at the local high school like his mother was. It pulled him out of his depression after a few years. He met people, made friends, and even found his brother once again. His brother moved to the same town and once again, Xander was able to be happy. He heard Camp Onii was searching for a head librarian and told his brother who practically pushed him out the door to go. This was what Xander needed. So he took the job and has been working at the camp for three years.
Arthur “Art” Reye, Danny “Vixen” Wright, and Callie “Celestial” Stevens were the three other companions that came with Nikki Westchester and Xander Bishop to Los Angeles on that life changing journey. Nikki was the one who brought both Art and Celestial to the group from previous events she had been a part of. Xander knew Vixen from personal matters several years before and was indeed part of how she got her own nickname. Withholding all such relations, the vibrant group was born.
This group was an odd group to peer upon for no one seemed to fit together: Art was a smart man who wished to enjoy life’s pleasures, Vixen was very into seducing the world in every way humanly possible, Celestial wished to be the world’s best friend, Nikki was an overpowering leader who had to have everything her way and perfect, and then there was Xander the sweet and kind man who wanted nothing more than to make people happy and save the place where they lived. It had to be the most dysfunctional family one could lay their eyes on.
Their lives changed on the third day of their trip to the city of angels.
Morning rose and wakened man at the break of dawn. Xander usually slept until at least eight in the morning yet he woke near six that morning. To his surprise, Art and Nikki had already been up for quite some time, Celestial was in her leveling stage, and Vixen was just waking up. The early rise for the group may have dazzled them momentarily but not enough to stop them from continuing on in their day’s festivities.
Their day started off with bickering. Xander felt that they should call their vacation short and go back to Nikki’s aunts that day and go on doing as they had said they were; the previous night had claimed quite interesting in Art and Vixen’s point of views. They had all been gambling, Xander at the table with the other four at his side the whole way, and were doing quite well. With Xander’s intellect, Vixen and Nikki’s bewildering charm, and Celestial’s new best friends, the five did exceedingly well in their gambling games. Some people became very upset with their opponents luck. After the game had ended, Xander winning the whole table, one big man and three other tough men following behind, pulled the group over and gave them a screaming. Seeing as how it appeared that Xander was the alpha of the wandering pack, the big man gave him an open threat: get out of town or he would end them all. Nikki laughed it off went they got back to the hotel and said it was all talk and that there was nothing to worry about. There was never anything to worry about with men who just talked. She then showed her appreciation of Xander’s brave doing for a good portion of the rest of the night before he headed off the couch to crash.
Nikki told Xander that morning that he was letting those bullies get to him. Celestial agreed that if they just went on and avoided the men, they would be fine through their last day of unknown vacation.
They split into groups that day: Celestial, Xander, and Nikki would go to the casino again while Art and Vixen went elsewhere, where that was, Nikki refused to tell Xander. They were at the casino the whole day, Xander worrying the majority of the time, until that night around nine when Nikki pulled him away from the crowd to express her feelings.
Between kisses, Nikki explained everything that she had been thinking in days’ past. She told him how she had wanted to pull him aside and escape from everyone else with him for the longest time. She said that Art and Vixen had the right idea of what to do on the night before their little inimical vacation ended. Xander was not sure about what Nikki was doing, but he felt for her more than anyone else he had ever met. He had always had Nikki and he felt that she may be right this one time: be with her for all he could.
All his joy disappeared; four men walked forward, the big man in the front looked awfully angry. Nikki clung to Xander like a frightened child who needed someone to rescue her as the angry man started to scream. He yelled out names they had never dared say, threatened to the point Xander thought this was pretty serious. And then the man drew out a gun. Nikki let her arms drop from around him. She backed away slightly. Two of the back men ran up and grabbed Xander. They struggled. Nikki was terrified shrieking Xander’s name over and over as he got beaten down by the bigger men. The grip on Xander got tighter and his struggling became more violent. He was getting tired; his struggling was becoming too hard to do. The gun was raised and was pointed straight at Xander. Nikki turned around and ran as fast and hard as she could leaving the scene of Xander struggling on his own. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a gunshot. She only ran faster. Art, Vixen, and Celestial never saw Nikki again nor did they know what had happened to Xander until several days later when it was over the news that they had found his body.
Nicole Westchester had died internally that day. She could not live with herself for what had happened and what she could not do. She had run out of Los Angeles and far away. She created a new identity, Trudy Mathers, and went back to college. She became a cook at a lovely restaurant where she met Blake Willem, the man she later married and had their first child. She would never forget her first love and her best friend. Her child was to be Xander Liam Willem, just Xander for if one was destined with a nickname, he might as well just be named such.
A year after Xander was born came Lyndon. Lyndon became Xander's best friend exceedingly fast. The were brothers, best friend, bros, and whatever two dudes five and six years old could be. Lyndon was everything to Xander. He was the number one priority and the person to protect. He meant the world. Finally, Xander had a true responsibility.
It was the summer just after Xander turned eighteen, and they went on the camping trip they always went on in the summer. It was what his father looked forward to the most. His father loved to hunt and loved to take the boys hunting. Xander could have lived without a week of shooting in the woods, but it made his father light up, something he did rather seldom lately.
On the third night of the trip, his parents got into an argument. Xander was out of the room when it happened, but he could hear it. Lyndon tried to tell him not to worry, but it was of no use. Xander hated it when they fought, which happened more often now, though he knew not the reason for it. He tried to concentrate on their game, but he was lost to it now, and Lyndon knew it.
There was a crash.
Xander and Lyndon both shot up and ran into the cabin's living room. The oil lamp had fallen over and caught the rug on fire. His father was shouting and his mother was backing away. Lyndon ran over to the rug trying to catch the fire before it spread. Xander was caught in a daze unsure what to do. His father grabbed his mother and threw her to the floor. Xander ran to his father pushing him to the side, trying desperately to get his father away from his nine month pregnant mother before anything too bad happened.
Lyndon was too later. The fire had already spread to the curtains and was spreading to the couch. It was growing too fast for them to do anything. They had to get out of the cabin.
Xander's father turned towards him angry, more angry than Xander had ever seen him. He was absolutely terrifying. He grabbed Xander and kneed him in the stomach as hard as he could then kicked him into the front door. The door cracked open and he fell to the floor. He was in excruciating pain. He could barely see. He had to get up and help, but he hurt so much. He heard a loud thud and his brother yelp. Then his mother screamed. It was a blood curdling scream that pained him more than all the injuries he was sure he had. He listened to her scream for what seemed like hours, but he could not move no matter how hard he tried. He finally was able to stand long enough to see his father running out the back. He looked for his mother and she saw her back where she laid on her side on the floor in a pool of blood. Lyndon was slumped on the floor against a wall. Xander slipped to the floor himself, put his hands on his knees, and cried.
Xander left his home town. Left the same state. Left to Pennsylvania and found a quaint little town where he became librarian at the local high school like his mother was. It pulled him out of his depression after a few years. He met people, made friends, and even found his brother once again. His brother moved to the same town and once again, Xander was able to be happy. He heard Camp Onii was searching for a head librarian and told his brother who practically pushed him out the door to go. This was what Xander needed. So he took the job and has been working at the camp for three years.
Name/Alias: Alice. Or Kat. Or whatever the heck you want to call me.
Age: 413. Okay, maybe 17.
Contact: PM me on any of my accounts {brynn anne grayson, xander liam willem} or feel free to email me at immortalchild_100300[at]hotmail[dot]com.
Experience: A real long time. I am going to go with ten years.
Additional Bits'n'Bobs: Oh good lord, there is too much to choose from.
Sample RP:
The introduction to Steve, a fallen angel.
He never wanted to give up. He had died and become a monster which he fought so desperately to destroy. But of course, that was before he had seen something more important than cleansing the earth of all the wretched and wickedness that plagued the beauty of the world he longed to protect. He remembered that tremendous day when he had felt as such as that a mere mortal man would feel on his wedding day just before he had seen the light before that groped towards him. He had felt the warmth that spread throughout his ever limb as he looked into the light that he had to go through for it would have been considered sin to not. As he passed through, he realized that he had not been the happiest man but more of the lost traveler who desperately needed saving from the horrid fate that was set upon him. He had found his true calling; his true love and a reason to go on in the revolting life he was forced to endure. He had found a dream that had been set to life by his magnificent Father to brighten the earth.
He had found her.
Everything about her was just enchanting. Waves of melted teak seeped out from atop her head and cascaded down the sides of her elegant cheeks to slip across her refined shoulders and fall to the middle of her chest. Piercing eyes bear into the surrounding world that was not worthy of such presence. Her lips flourished with such panache that her essence itself started to radiate and almost become lustrous beneath the sunlight. She was the image of all that was perfect. Even her name was enthralling: Claire.
In his attempts to save his love from the irreverent refuse that she had been destined upon, fate had taken a toll Steve did not understand nor did he have any control over what had happened. He had certainly found his love and had tried many times to bring her back with him but her mind had been beleaguered with the thoughts that the mortal kind had implanted within her as she lived among them. She was too far gone for him to explain anything and it make sense and it was made clear to him by both she and her pitiful excuse of a friend.
He was a dog. The boy who traveled with her was a giant dog and unquestionably smelled it. It disgusted him dearly that his beauty would consider a beast of hell such a friend. (Of course Ms. Claire had also been infected by a heinous monstrosity from the depths of hell, but he could cleanse her with ease just as soon as he took her back to the heavens.) The lycanthrope reeked of a desolate stench that could be sensed from miles away. Steve did not understand how she could stand such a thing anywhere near her and yet he seemed to follow her everywhere. The beast would not leave his Claire alone and that was not acceptable. He obviously thought that she tolerated him and he was ever so mistaken, the horrid brute. Steve had found himself in a loss full of rage towards the dog boy and remembered a sudden outburst of his opponent.
He had died that day because of the atrocious mammal and his murderous instincts. It had not taken long for he had been caught unawares by the other and had not anticipated the strength that the other possessed. Though the other looked young it was obvious he had been young for a longer time than his physical appearance showed. He had not been dead long. He remembered the pain that had been struck before him and then the blackness of nothing. He had been surprised when he had wound up in a dark place of misery rather than the comfort light of heaven. He also remembered waking for a moment to realize he was not himself before he was pushed to the back of his brain and no longer in control.
For a long while, another being was in control of him completely; he had been shoved into the back of demon’s body so that he may watch what happened very plainly. He was astonished to realize that the entity that was in control of this new body was not a stranger but an angrier and more sinful version of himself. As he watched what he did to Ms. Claire and the rest of the party of people about, he could not help but feel the strange feeling that deep down he wanted all of it to happen which made him sick to the thought; how could he think such things about anyone even the ghastly thing that was at his love’s side once more. As much as he wished he would have died, it was the wrong thing to even think about, and he was sorry that his wonderful Father had to hear such thoughts coming from one of his own Angels.
And then he died again only it was the lycanthrope’s brother, who too was a beast from the depths of hell, had killed him this time. He felt the pain of the holy water burning through the body of the demon he was trapped within; he could feel it and the entity inside withering away. He also felt himself withering away. He gave the girl he dreamed of more than anything one last look before his life drifted away.
†
When you know that you are going to die, and you know that your life is almost finished, and you know that this is the end of everything, and you accept it, it is a very strange sensation that is washed over you when you open your eyes once more to the world and realize you are not quite dead.
His eyes fluttered open to only a blinding white light. He shielded his eyes with the back of his right arm for only a moment before he could not resist looking once again. He peeked beneath his elbow and waited with his eyes squinted tightly for them to adjust to the abnormally bright view. As the luminosity seemed to subside from its sudden state, he began to see things much more clearly now; he was in a brilliant place of such beauty which he had not seen in a very long time. In an instant, he was sure of where he was: he was in Heaven. Then the thought occurred to him that he had just perished which could only mean that God had taken pity upon his soul and let his come back to rest with the other dead.
Steve spread his wings as far as its span would allow them to go. He paused a moment to wonder if he were really in heaven (not so much as the literal version since he knew that he was indeed in heaven, but he was not sure how he was exactly whether that being he was alive or not.). He debated on the thought for several long minutes before deciding that it was impossible to be alive after dying. Then again, he had come back trapped inside the body of his own evil self not too long before which enabled the possibility that he could be alive just as an angel once more. This realization enthralled him thoroughly since he could in fact be alive and able to do justice as he once longed to do.
It also meant he would be able to win back his lovely maiden in need of rescue on the world below. His whole body suddenly was overrun with content that he had not felt in a very long time. This was a feeling he wished to have more often and therefore he would have to rethink everything once more. It is obvious that his merely going down to her and openly saying that of which should have been evident was not the right way of going through with his plan. He needed to evaluate his strategies and find a different way of approaching the matter. He would have to think it over a while which meant he would have to wait, but it was for Ms. Claire, so he would wait a million years if he had to.
For long hours at a time, Steve would just watch her every move; he found it fascinating to just observe what she did. It was not that she was doing anything terribly exciting (well, according to most people, though, to him he found everything she did was magnificent) it was the way she did everything; her every motion flowed with a rhythm that sang to his soul. As he watched her, his body was filled with the content from before, only this time it included a warmth that he wished would never leave him. He yearned to just watch forever, but he knew that doing so would do no good.
After several weeks of mere observing, an idea came to him. This was a perfect time to do anything he thought necessary to get her to come with him. She was in another world completely, which still confused him greatly on how she happened to get there, and therefore she was finally alone; there were no more silly creatures to come and distract her from doing what was right for and what was the best for them both. He had the advantage now and he planned to use it. He would visit her just as soon as he saw fit appropriate, and that time was today.
†
People view places in completely unique ways. One young girl saw a white house as a bland sheet of splattered cloud that had not yet condensed enough to have the heavy aroma that the fluff radiated down and billowed through the wind until it floated to its rest upon the bridges of the children’s noses. A little boy, who had once been lost but now was found, saw even a darkened corner full of cobwebs and those spiders which called them home a place of comfort to sooth even the darkest of corrupted souls could be slightly enlightened with his heart lit to a brilliant flame and a warm smile of respite be part of his actuality opposed to the façade he is forced to wear. Steve saw the world and all its many realities and dimensions as simple endless pits of impending hell and budding idiocy passing the line of peace whilst overflowing the rim of neutrality and falling over the sides then down the frame of absolute insanity. He saw it as an awful place he and many others like him strived to save with little accomplishment.
But then there was a light. In the shadow of a world of this place he watched over was one presence that wiped away all the evil about and that was Miss Claire. He had always found it strange how people saw brilliance in the world that was not her. Yes, it has been made clear many times before to many other beings that he saw no purpose except for her, but he did not understand why no one else saw it. Nor did he understand many things about the world.
Observation from atop the trees was horrid; there were leaves and branches constantly in the way, short-range did not help in trying to see more than the general area and a blur of the about. His wings were an obstacle to maneuver in the small space that was a forest when he found it necessary to move below the tops of the trees. After nearly thirty minutes, Steve sheltered himself to the lower branches of the trees but high enough to be out of sight from passing creatures. It did not matter so much as it seemed the forest was secluded to its own nature. He did not see a point in doing so much more than sitting there. So, he sat and he waited; for what he waited for, he was not completely sure. He knew his objective, and he knew the overall idea of what needed to happen, but all other details were unclear to that point. He waited for what seemed like hours just watching the woodland before he found what he was looking for; she looked as beautiful as ever, and in a way, she was even more so than before. He let a brilliant smile slide onto his lips before he slipped down several branches, silently hopped several trees and eyed the girl from a far view.
He had found her.
Everything about her was just enchanting. Waves of melted teak seeped out from atop her head and cascaded down the sides of her elegant cheeks to slip across her refined shoulders and fall to the middle of her chest. Piercing eyes bear into the surrounding world that was not worthy of such presence. Her lips flourished with such panache that her essence itself started to radiate and almost become lustrous beneath the sunlight. She was the image of all that was perfect. Even her name was enthralling: Claire.
In his attempts to save his love from the irreverent refuse that she had been destined upon, fate had taken a toll Steve did not understand nor did he have any control over what had happened. He had certainly found his love and had tried many times to bring her back with him but her mind had been beleaguered with the thoughts that the mortal kind had implanted within her as she lived among them. She was too far gone for him to explain anything and it make sense and it was made clear to him by both she and her pitiful excuse of a friend.
He was a dog. The boy who traveled with her was a giant dog and unquestionably smelled it. It disgusted him dearly that his beauty would consider a beast of hell such a friend. (Of course Ms. Claire had also been infected by a heinous monstrosity from the depths of hell, but he could cleanse her with ease just as soon as he took her back to the heavens.) The lycanthrope reeked of a desolate stench that could be sensed from miles away. Steve did not understand how she could stand such a thing anywhere near her and yet he seemed to follow her everywhere. The beast would not leave his Claire alone and that was not acceptable. He obviously thought that she tolerated him and he was ever so mistaken, the horrid brute. Steve had found himself in a loss full of rage towards the dog boy and remembered a sudden outburst of his opponent.
He had died that day because of the atrocious mammal and his murderous instincts. It had not taken long for he had been caught unawares by the other and had not anticipated the strength that the other possessed. Though the other looked young it was obvious he had been young for a longer time than his physical appearance showed. He had not been dead long. He remembered the pain that had been struck before him and then the blackness of nothing. He had been surprised when he had wound up in a dark place of misery rather than the comfort light of heaven. He also remembered waking for a moment to realize he was not himself before he was pushed to the back of his brain and no longer in control.
For a long while, another being was in control of him completely; he had been shoved into the back of demon’s body so that he may watch what happened very plainly. He was astonished to realize that the entity that was in control of this new body was not a stranger but an angrier and more sinful version of himself. As he watched what he did to Ms. Claire and the rest of the party of people about, he could not help but feel the strange feeling that deep down he wanted all of it to happen which made him sick to the thought; how could he think such things about anyone even the ghastly thing that was at his love’s side once more. As much as he wished he would have died, it was the wrong thing to even think about, and he was sorry that his wonderful Father had to hear such thoughts coming from one of his own Angels.
And then he died again only it was the lycanthrope’s brother, who too was a beast from the depths of hell, had killed him this time. He felt the pain of the holy water burning through the body of the demon he was trapped within; he could feel it and the entity inside withering away. He also felt himself withering away. He gave the girl he dreamed of more than anything one last look before his life drifted away.
†
When you know that you are going to die, and you know that your life is almost finished, and you know that this is the end of everything, and you accept it, it is a very strange sensation that is washed over you when you open your eyes once more to the world and realize you are not quite dead.
His eyes fluttered open to only a blinding white light. He shielded his eyes with the back of his right arm for only a moment before he could not resist looking once again. He peeked beneath his elbow and waited with his eyes squinted tightly for them to adjust to the abnormally bright view. As the luminosity seemed to subside from its sudden state, he began to see things much more clearly now; he was in a brilliant place of such beauty which he had not seen in a very long time. In an instant, he was sure of where he was: he was in Heaven. Then the thought occurred to him that he had just perished which could only mean that God had taken pity upon his soul and let his come back to rest with the other dead.
Steve spread his wings as far as its span would allow them to go. He paused a moment to wonder if he were really in heaven (not so much as the literal version since he knew that he was indeed in heaven, but he was not sure how he was exactly whether that being he was alive or not.). He debated on the thought for several long minutes before deciding that it was impossible to be alive after dying. Then again, he had come back trapped inside the body of his own evil self not too long before which enabled the possibility that he could be alive just as an angel once more. This realization enthralled him thoroughly since he could in fact be alive and able to do justice as he once longed to do.
It also meant he would be able to win back his lovely maiden in need of rescue on the world below. His whole body suddenly was overrun with content that he had not felt in a very long time. This was a feeling he wished to have more often and therefore he would have to rethink everything once more. It is obvious that his merely going down to her and openly saying that of which should have been evident was not the right way of going through with his plan. He needed to evaluate his strategies and find a different way of approaching the matter. He would have to think it over a while which meant he would have to wait, but it was for Ms. Claire, so he would wait a million years if he had to.
For long hours at a time, Steve would just watch her every move; he found it fascinating to just observe what she did. It was not that she was doing anything terribly exciting (well, according to most people, though, to him he found everything she did was magnificent) it was the way she did everything; her every motion flowed with a rhythm that sang to his soul. As he watched her, his body was filled with the content from before, only this time it included a warmth that he wished would never leave him. He yearned to just watch forever, but he knew that doing so would do no good.
After several weeks of mere observing, an idea came to him. This was a perfect time to do anything he thought necessary to get her to come with him. She was in another world completely, which still confused him greatly on how she happened to get there, and therefore she was finally alone; there were no more silly creatures to come and distract her from doing what was right for and what was the best for them both. He had the advantage now and he planned to use it. He would visit her just as soon as he saw fit appropriate, and that time was today.
†
People view places in completely unique ways. One young girl saw a white house as a bland sheet of splattered cloud that had not yet condensed enough to have the heavy aroma that the fluff radiated down and billowed through the wind until it floated to its rest upon the bridges of the children’s noses. A little boy, who had once been lost but now was found, saw even a darkened corner full of cobwebs and those spiders which called them home a place of comfort to sooth even the darkest of corrupted souls could be slightly enlightened with his heart lit to a brilliant flame and a warm smile of respite be part of his actuality opposed to the façade he is forced to wear. Steve saw the world and all its many realities and dimensions as simple endless pits of impending hell and budding idiocy passing the line of peace whilst overflowing the rim of neutrality and falling over the sides then down the frame of absolute insanity. He saw it as an awful place he and many others like him strived to save with little accomplishment.
But then there was a light. In the shadow of a world of this place he watched over was one presence that wiped away all the evil about and that was Miss Claire. He had always found it strange how people saw brilliance in the world that was not her. Yes, it has been made clear many times before to many other beings that he saw no purpose except for her, but he did not understand why no one else saw it. Nor did he understand many things about the world.
Observation from atop the trees was horrid; there were leaves and branches constantly in the way, short-range did not help in trying to see more than the general area and a blur of the about. His wings were an obstacle to maneuver in the small space that was a forest when he found it necessary to move below the tops of the trees. After nearly thirty minutes, Steve sheltered himself to the lower branches of the trees but high enough to be out of sight from passing creatures. It did not matter so much as it seemed the forest was secluded to its own nature. He did not see a point in doing so much more than sitting there. So, he sat and he waited; for what he waited for, he was not completely sure. He knew his objective, and he knew the overall idea of what needed to happen, but all other details were unclear to that point. He waited for what seemed like hours just watching the woodland before he found what he was looking for; she looked as beautiful as ever, and in a way, she was even more so than before. He let a brilliant smile slide onto his lips before he slipped down several branches, silently hopped several trees and eyed the girl from a far view.
Coding and Images are (c) to AMBE3251/AMBER!? of Caution 2.0. Remove this credit and die. Simple as that: Kapeesh? Alright! Enjoy this lovely app.
