-- tic toc (c)

[ANGELINE WINDSOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=width,420,true] [STYLE=float: left; width: 90px; height: 90px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 15px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 20px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; width: 50px; height: 60px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 10px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 6px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; background-color: #D13434; color: #fff; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; text-shadow: #fff 1px 1px 1px; padding: 5px; margin-left: 10px;] A [/style][STYLE=float: left; color: #222; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -3px; padding: 4px; 2px 4px 0px;]IN'T A SCENE *[/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i.imgur.com/45860.gif); width: 450px; height: 80px; border-bottom: #D13434 6px solid; border-radius: 14px 14px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 14px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 14px; margin-top: -40px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; color: #222; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 4px; margin-top: -19px; margin-right: 8px;] IT'S A GODDAMN ARMS RACE [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; text-align: justify; color: #c2c2c2; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 10px; padding: 1px; padding-left: 122px;] ❚ WORDS --- ❚ TAGS someone ❚ NOTES WELLP. HI THURRR.[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #c2c2c2; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; padding: 0px 30px 10px 30px;]The weather today was surprisingly pleasant, filled with vast blue skies and soft, white drifting clouds; the air smelled clean, too, having been swept clean by the rain earlier this week. It was this atmosphere that greeted Angeline when she stepped out today, golden trimmings gleaming and eyes sparkling with mirth. Long, pale locks of coral rippled behind her as she rode atop Fantamir, invoked into his level 2 form – a gleaming, serpentine dragon of brilliant white, slithering through the air as though he were a flag billowing in the wind in fluid motions. The blue ring about his neck sparkled brilliantly, and with a laugh, Angeline stood up from her perch- -and fell. As her hair whipped about her in an upside down freefall towards the roof, she let loose a shriek of laughter, grinning almost madly against the harsh wind. Angeline liked the feel of this – of her adrenaline rushing through her blood, of her heart beating so fast she couldn’t hear over the sound of it drumming against her ribcage, the feeling of being so precariously close to death that really, one shouldn’t be able to tell the difference between living and dying anymore. She was an adrenaline junkie, really, no way around it; perhaps it was the reason she’d gone so long without going mad in this damned war of theirs – since she liked it, this constantly on-edge feeling. And just as she neared the concrete, a white blur passed beneath her, safely netting her fall – and all Angeline dropped onto was a soft, cushioned back, and she laughed again, chest heaving and eyes wide. As Fantamir rolled to a descent on the ground, she remained lying on his back, staring wide-eyed into the sky; ah, ah, her limbs were still tingling numbly. [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; color: #434343; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8px; text-align: right; padding: 0px 10px 5px 0px;]made by ayu of btn [/style]

[Alistair Valentine]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450px][atrb=style,background-color: #292929;] [style=background-color: #ECBD10; color: #292929; text-align: right; display: inline; width: 320px; float: left; padding-right: 5px;]i get more and more strange [/style] { i'm a punk i'm a sinner i'm a lost new beginner i'm a threat to myself i'm a get armageddon i'm a freak i'm a liar i'm a flirt i deny that i know it then i mess it up i'm a bit suicidal i'm my own worst rival train wreck white trash freak maniac psycho i'm a trouble making rebel made a deal with the devil i'm way past ever coming back } He hadn't a clue how long he had been watching the ivory-coloured serpentine dragon and the rose-haired girl swooping about through the air. He made a guess that he had been there for ten minutes, just watching them with an almost bored expression on his face, but his eyes were slightly glazed over, obviously lost in thought with a gloved hand rested absent-mindedly on the hilt of Nightmare on his right hip. Slowly, his amber gaze slid down to his normal eye level, head not tilted backwards in order to watch the girl and her dragon flit through the sky. He raised his other hand, covering his mouth as he yawned, wondering why the woman had failed to notice him standing there at the entrance of the rooftop, though perhaps it was due to the fun she was having... Perhaps it was because his skills in being invisible had somehow increased without him training it. A shriek of laughter caused him to jolt his head upwards, though still in an almost lazy fashion as he watched the girl tumble through the air. He made no movement to catch her, as though assuming that the exorcist, no, wait, general, as evidenced by the gold trimmings rather than the silver on her uniform, would be saved by her Innocence, which he presumed to be the serpentine dragon. The blond slowly drew his arms across his chest, crossing them as he watched the beast dive under the girl, catching her and saving her life. Alistair stepped forward, striding over to the pair at a rather slow pace, but keeping his distance. She was a new face to him, as was the dragon, but that wasn't really surprising, considering the fact that the twenty-nine year old would disappear for months at a time with only a few calls to the Order to say that he had just seen the weirdest akuma, or the "cutest dog ever!" while he was on a mission... in which he had no idea what he was meant to be doing because he had probably zoned out or interrupted the briefing to try and piss the briefer off. "Morning to you, General, and... General's dragon," Alistair said, a joking tone of formality in his voice as he bent forwards in a bow to the two of them, coming back up soon after with a hair flick to accompany the motion. "I take it you were having fun up there? Just as well, the good weather isn't going to last long, the country being forever wet and rainy England and all." Of course, he had to force himself into a conversation when he wasn't in the exact right mood to do so. [style=margin-left: 50px; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; text-align: justify; font: 9px arial;]TAGS ?! angeline windsor WORDS ?! 0448 LYRICS ?! dysfunctional family, cinema bizarre NOTES ?! i feel awkward with this post [/style]

template by darkee @ back to neverland.

[ANGELINE WINDSOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=width,420,true] [STYLE=float: left; width: 90px; height: 90px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 15px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 20px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; width: 50px; height: 60px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 10px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 6px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; background-color: #D13434; color: #fff; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; text-shadow: #fff 1px 1px 1px; padding: 5px; margin-left: 10px;] A [/style][STYLE=float: left; color: #222; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -3px; padding: 4px; 2px 4px 0px;]IN'T A SCENE *[/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i.imgur.com/45860.gif); width: 450px; height: 80px; border-bottom: #D13434 6px solid; border-radius: 14px 14px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 14px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 14px; margin-top: -40px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; color: #222; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 4px; margin-top: -19px; margin-right: 8px;] IT'S A GODDAMN ARMS RACE [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; text-align: justify; color: #c2c2c2; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 10px; padding: 1px; padding-left: 122px;] ❚ WORDS --- ❚ TAGS someone ❚ NOTES WELLP. HI THURRR.[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #c2c2c2; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; padding: 0px 30px 10px 30px;]Angeline’s eyes darted to the side when she heard a scuffling noise, and found herself staring at the sideways view of a tall blonde man – immediately, she sat up, legs coming over to gather at one side. She quirked a brow at him, trailing her gaze up and down his countenance; she couldn’t seem to recall seeing anyone like him around the Order, before. Was he knew? He seemed pretty comfortable in his own skin to be new, though – all the new ones were always shaky and half scared out of their wits. Angeline stepped forward and off of Fantamir’s back, who then immediately deactivated himself – after the shimmering white light subsided, the dragon now sat perched upon her shoulder, very much miniature-sized. A long, coiling tail wrapped itself around her forearm, almost like a piece of jewelry, and it turned inquisitive blue eyes upon the stranger- ”…Morning to you too, Mister,” she responded cheerily enough, smiling. She continued to stare curiously at his features, trying to remember if she recalled him from somewhere. Then again, she wasn’t exactly familiar with many of HQ’s members to begin with, given her penchant to run off on the next mission when her last one ended. Nevertheless, he wasn’t even wearing an exorcist’s uniform, which had her wondering exactly who he was, anyway. A scientist, maybe? ”And who’re you?” she asked rather frankly, one pale hand rising to pet Fantamir’s small head. The dragon crooned. [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; color: #434343; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8px; text-align: right; padding: 0px 10px 5px 0px;]made by ayu of btn [/style]

[Alistair Valentine]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450px][atrb=style,background-color: #292929;] [style=background-color: #ECBD10; color: #292929; text-align: right; display: inline; width: 320px; float: left; padding-right: 5px;]i get more and more strange [/style] { i'm a punk i'm a sinner i'm a lost new beginner i'm a threat to myself i'm a get armageddon i'm a freak i'm a liar i'm a flirt i deny that i know it then i mess it up i'm a bit suicidal i'm my own worst rival train wreck white trash freak maniac psycho i'm a trouble making rebel made a deal with the devil i'm way past ever coming back } On second thoughts, this woman did look pretty familiar to him, now that the dragon had changed form - which had caused the blond to tip his head to the side and raise an eyebrow to show his curiosity - and become a small avian sized creature that perched on the girl's shoulder. His eyes studied the tail, trying to pick where he had noticed her before. He could, vaguely, recall seeing her in the corridors of the Order quite a few years ago actually, probably about five or six years back. He wasn't entirely sure it was the same person though, but she had the same eyes and the same general face shape ... Actually, scrap that, it was the same person, because otherwise the Innocence would be different. No one ever had the same Innocence, not even if it was the same piece of Innocence that had a form at the beginnings of this damned war and was currently in use now by someone. Every piece of Innocence was different because every person was unique. She seemed quite cheery, and Alistair found his eyes almost glinting with the same sort of cheer. Without questioning it visibly, he wondered what exactly caused the glimmer of happiness at seeing a new face, despite the fact that he knew that one day their life would end- "And who're you?" And there was the dreaded question. He responded quickly enough, a speed that was almost reminiscent of a soldier standing to attention to their higher upthinking. "Depends. I could lie about my identity," a sly grin slid onto his face. "Angelo Harper, intelligence," he answered, eyes fixing on the creature on her shoulder once again. He had of course lied to the girl, but he wasn't using his full effort in lying, as he did so normally. If she was able to tell if people were lying or not, depending on how good she was at it, she'd be able to tell that he was faking who he was.

template by darkee @ back to neverland.

[ANGELINE WINDSOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=width,420,true] [STYLE=float: left; width: 90px; height: 90px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 15px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 20px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; width: 50px; height: 60px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 10px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 6px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; background-color: #D13434; color: #fff; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; text-shadow: #fff 1px 1px 1px; padding: 5px; margin-left: 10px;] A [/style][STYLE=float: left; color: #222; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -3px; padding: 4px; 2px 4px 0px;]IN'T A SCENE *[/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i.imgur.com/45860.gif); width: 450px; height: 80px; border-bottom: #D13434 6px solid; border-radius: 14px 14px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 14px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 14px; margin-top: -40px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; color: #222; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 4px; margin-top: -19px; margin-right: 8px;] IT'S A GODDAMN ARMS RACE [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; text-align: justify; color: #c2c2c2; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 10px; padding: 1px; padding-left: 122px;] ❚ WORDS --- ❚ TAGS someone ❚ NOTES WELLP. HI THURRR.[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #c2c2c2; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; padding: 0px 30px 10px 30px;]Angeline quirked a sharp brow, hesitation written across her features – she wasn’t sure if she should take him seriously, or not. One on hand, she wasn’t exactly the paranoid type, but then again, he didn’t exactly seem all that honest, either. She smiled prettily, then, tilting her head to the side as a laugh slipped from her lips. ”Did you just lie about yourself after saying you would?” Angeline asked, amusement lacing her words. ”Well, it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me,” she said easily, shrugging, bringing a hand to scratch the underside of Fantamir’s chin. The small dragon purred, small wings flapping once, twice, and then Angeline dropped her hand, slinging it on her waist instead. She opened her eyes from her smile, then, lips still curved upwards in a friendly manner. ”But really, if you don’t, I’m going to be forced to kick you off the premises on grounds of trespassing.” One eye closed playfully, tongue sliding against her upper lip, Angeline smiled brightly again. She extended her arm off to the side, whereupon Fantamir slid gracefully downwards, and flapped up into the air- ”Innocence, level one – activate.”

[/i]

-whereupon he burst into brilliant prisms of light once more; and when it subsided, he’d turned into a smaller dragon than before, but nonetheless, still rather hefty. He circled the air around Angeline once, twice, before coming to rest a heavy head upon her shoulder, blinking slowly at the man.

”Fanta’s been itching for some exercise, too, y’know? I’d rather not let him loose, though. But, well, duty calls.”

And then, she gave him a brilliant, stunning smile, grinning to reveal two rows of pearly whites - as though nothing in the world could make her more cheerful than at that moment.

[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; color: #434343; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8px; text-align: right; padding: 0px 10px 5px 0px;]made by ayu of btn [/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Alistair Valentine]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450px][atrb=style,background-color: #292929;] [style=background-color: #ECBD10; color: #292929; text-align: right; display: inline; width: 320px; float: left; padding-right: 5px;]i get more and more strange [/style] { i'm a punk i'm a sinner i'm a lost new beginner i'm a threat to myself i'm a get armageddon i'm a freak i'm a liar i'm a flirt i deny that i know it then i mess it up i'm a bit suicidal i'm my own worst rival train wreck white trash freak maniac psycho i'm a trouble making rebel made a deal with the devil i'm way past ever coming back } He grinned in a mischievous manner to the General, pearly whites glinting in the sunlight. His amber eyes glinted with anticipation, obviously wanting to see how the situation would turn out, to see how she would react to a fellow person of her rank. "I might have lied about giving you a false identity, meaning that it was just a warning to be careful when asking people who they are," he paused, reaching up with a hand to scratch his ear. "Could've lied about that too," he added on, pushing a sheepish look to his face that wasn't there naturally, but because he had spent hours of training to be able to deceive people, the expression seemed as natural as the sun rising in the morning. "Is that supposed to be a threat?" he asked in a cocky manner, but it was all a joke. You could tell by the laughter shimmering in his orange eyes that he enjoyed being a joker, that he was really starting to have a bit of fun himself. His gaze once again leapt to the dragon as it burst into light, causing him to very slightly squint against the light for a moment, and the small avian sized creature was gone, only to be replaced by a dragon smaller than the one earlier. Alistair let out a smooth laugh, his trademark lopsided grin still on his face. "If a spar is what you want, you can get one, but really you should ask politely," the blond shook his head, closing his eyes with the motion as well as putting his hands on his waist, before they slid back down to his sides. His arms were still tense though, ready to grab the hilt of one of the two swords on either side of his belt and block any attack or dodge in the same movement as drawing his sword. While he didn't want it to happen, a surprise attack would help him hone his skills of dodging, well, surprise attacks while drawing one of his weapons and activating the steel-on-a-stick. "But alright, alright! You got me," at the back of his head, he wondered what exactly caused him to be so jovial at times. Back to the situation at hand, he considered on what to tell the coral haired girl. "Trickster's my title," he said, slowly extending an arm out to shake hands with the General, holding his hand in the space between them. He wasn't really expecting a handshake, but it would be polite to give him one. "And don't set your pretty little drakos on me just yet, sunshine."

template by darkee @ back to neverland.

[ANGELINE WINDSOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=width,420,true] [STYLE=float: left; width: 90px; height: 90px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 15px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 20px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; width: 50px; height: 60px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 10px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 6px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; background-color: #D13434; color: #fff; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; text-shadow: #fff 1px 1px 1px; padding: 5px; margin-left: 10px;] A [/style][STYLE=float: left; color: #222; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -3px; padding: 4px; 2px 4px 0px;]IN'T A SCENE *[/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i.imgur.com/45860.gif); width: 450px; height: 80px; border-bottom: #D13434 6px solid; border-radius: 14px 14px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 14px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 14px; margin-top: -40px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; color: #222; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 4px; margin-top: -19px; margin-right: 8px;] IT'S A GODDAMN ARMS RACE [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; text-align: justify; color: #c2c2c2; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 10px; padding: 1px; padding-left: 122px;] ❚ WORDS --- ❚ TAGS someone ❚ NOTES WELLP. HI THURRR.[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #c2c2c2; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; padding: 0px 30px 10px 30px;]His voice was teasing enough, light-hearted as he responded in banter – his body, though, told otherwise. Angeline’s eyes zeroed in on the tense stiffness of his arms, and recognition slid into place – he was a fighter! Ah, ah, how had she missed the weapons dangling on either side? Oho; nearly a decade spent in the company of quick-footed soldiers and warriors had her able to recognize the signs when she saw one. So he was…an exorcist? Strange, then, that he wasn’t wearing the uniform. …But most exorcists wouldn’t exactly be ready to spar with a general on the spot – was he stupid, or something else? Angeline’s eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressed thinly together; ah, ah, she really disliked thinking so much when she was tired- Trickster, he introduced himself as, and Angeline couldn’t help but blink. The name felt achingly familiar, and yet, she just couldn’t put a finger on it – it was evading her grasp, swimming through her haze of thoughts and teasing her- Nevertheless, she raised a hand, intent on shaking it- -when Fantamir’s tail lashed out first, loping loosely about the man’s hand, and shaking it gently. With an irritated scowl, Angeline passed a dull glance along at Fantamir – really, the arrogant thing thought he was the exorcist; the dragon gave her a snide, quiet snort in return, and Angeline rolled her eyes. She gave a small smile, though, to the man. ”That’s a silly name,” she commented lightly, brain still racking for anything- ”Damn that trickster general – where’d he run off to now?” rose out of her memories – she couldn’t be sure who’d said it, or when, but it had been said, and- Ohhhh. He was a general? This guy? Angeline raised a brow skeptically, before giving a cheery wave with her hand. ”Nice to meet you, general. [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; color: #434343; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8px; text-align: right; padding: 0px 10px 5px 0px;]made by ayu of btn [/style]

[Alistair Valentine]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450px][atrb=style,background-color: #292929;] [style=background-color: #ECBD10; color: #292929; text-align: right; display: inline; width: 320px; float: left; padding-right: 5px;]i get more and more strange [/style] { i'm a punk i'm a sinner i'm a lost new beginner i'm a threat to myself i'm a get armageddon i'm a freak i'm a liar i'm a flirt i deny that i know it then i mess it up i'm a bit suicidal i'm my own worst rival train wreck white trash freak maniac psycho i'm a trouble making rebel made a deal with the devil i'm way past ever coming back } There was a delay in her moving her own hand to shake his. Alistair perked an eyebrow up, as though asking her what was wrong, and he focused his eyes on her face, as though searching for the answer. If she was truly a General and not some imposter who had managed to steal a General's uniform, she would recognise the title Trickster. The name was not at all famous within the Black Order, but it was whispered amongst the clergymen, among finders, among scientists, among the leaders of the Order ... because they wanted to find out where he had run off to and to actually know who he was. "Mn?" He cursed the surprised look on his face with a burning passion, one that could rival the passionate lives of the Spanish, when he felt a cold object that did not feel like a hand at all in his hand. When he glanced down quickly, he had saw that the woman's dragon had decided to grab his hand before his owner could and shake it. The surprise quickly melted away though as he shook the creature's tail, letting out a quiet chuckle of amusement. "Yeah, hello to you, uh, sir?" Alistair cocked his head to the side at the pair, as though asking the beast's gender. "That's a silly name." Alistair slowly shrugged, allowing his arm to drop back to his side, tense like the other though now it seemed there was no threat to him. Gotta stay prepared, right? "I take it you don't know the trickster in legends? They felt it suitable for my personality and a couple of my abilities. They pondered on Reaper for a bit, but I didn't particularly like that," he explained, but he quickly trailed off when he saw the girl raise her eyebrow, as though she had finally realised who he was - her revelation caused him to grin once again, the broad smile having slipped away from his face so that his face wouldn't end up aching later. "Nice to meet you too, miss, aah..?" He held onto the last syllable, intonation raising to signal a question. He had an extreme lack of knowledge on the other generals considering the fact that he never really cared to research for it, but he guessed that if he was to take a more prominent stance in the Order, he would have to do research on the other generals - maybe let them know about himself. Maybe.

template by darkee @ back to neverland.

[ANGELINE WINDSOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=width,420,true] [STYLE=float: left; width: 90px; height: 90px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 15px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 20px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; width: 50px; height: 60px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 10px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 6px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; background-color: #D13434; color: #fff; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; text-shadow: #fff 1px 1px 1px; padding: 5px; margin-left: 10px;] A [/style][STYLE=float: left; color: #222; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -3px; padding: 4px; 2px 4px 0px;]IN'T A SCENE *[/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i.imgur.com/45860.gif); width: 450px; height: 80px; border-bottom: #D13434 6px solid; border-radius: 14px 14px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 14px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 14px; margin-top: -40px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; color: #222; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 4px; margin-top: -19px; margin-right: 8px;] IT'S A GODDAMN ARMS RACE [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; text-align: justify; color: #c2c2c2; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 10px; padding: 1px; padding-left: 122px;] ❚ WORDS --- ❚ TAGS someone ❚ NOTES WELLP. HI THURRR.[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #c2c2c2; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; padding: 0px 30px 10px 30px;]Angeline almost rolled her eyes – legends, huh? Pfft, as if he was that big of a deal. Then again, they did talk about his name a lot, more out of curiosity than respect – because, after all, with his sparse presence, what did they even have to respect? In any case, she smiled indulgently at Fantamir, shrugging slightly. ”He’s a male – though he acts like a priss, sometimes.” And then, the other was inquiring about her name, and Angeline vaguely recalled that the man had still yet to give her his own name, either. She clasped her hands behind her back, brows raised and a small smile on her lips. ”I dunno – I could lie about my identity,” she said in a musing sort of voice, echoing the other’s previous words. Served that prat right, she thought obstinately – she could be childish at times, she knew, and she wasn’t really irritated. She just gave as good as she got. Why should she make it so easy for him when she’d had to go through all that thinking to figure out his bare identity? She clucked her tongue playfully, smiling, eyes twinkling with amusement. For a moment, Angeline considered giving a fake name and following title, then realized that, well – with her innocence activated, and the golden buttons of a general gleaming from her clothes, it’d be a bit foolish to do that. So instead, with a quiet sigh, Angeline raked a hand through her hair before smiling wanly towards the other. ”Angeline Windsor – a pleasure, sir,” she greeted cordially, breeding shining through her words. ”And this is Fantamir; I’d love to know your name, though,” she hummed, lips quirking upwards. [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; color: #434343; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8px; text-align: right; padding: 0px 10px 5px 0px;]made by ayu of btn [/style]

[Alistair Valentine]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450px][atrb=style,background-color: #292929;] [style=background-color: #ECBD10; color: #292929; text-align: right; display: inline; width: 320px; float: left; padding-right: 5px;]i get more and more strange [/style] { i'm a punk i'm a sinner i'm a lost new beginner i'm a threat to myself i'm a get armageddon i'm a freak i'm a liar i'm a flirt i deny that i know it then i mess it up i'm a bit suicidal i'm my own worst rival train wreck white trash freak maniac psycho i'm a trouble making rebel made a deal with the devil i'm way past ever coming back } Male. Sure seemed like it. Though, Alistair wasn't a genius on telling apart genders, nor did he really care, but the general build of the serpentine animal seemed to just scream that it of the masculine gender. Thing was though, he could have been completely wrong and insulted the creature, and thus have ended up on the equivalent of toast for a dragon. Dragons were not a common creature - in fact this was the first dragon he had seen that wasn't trying to kill him or chase him out of a forest - so he had no clue about the physiology of such a majestic creature. The females could have been the more dominstant gender of the species, and thus appear to be the masculine ones. "I dunno - I could lie about my identity." At this response, Alistair clapped his hands together, a sparkle appearing on his eyes. Oh good lord, he felt his saner side groan to himself. A grin spread its way across Alistair's face again. "Yes, yes you can! And then, you can even lie about lying about who you are, just to confuse the crap out of people - which is always fun! Same with actually tricking them for long periods of time. The best part of deception is leading three or four different lives at once and almost getting caught by one life's friend who is another identity's enemy!" All through the ramble, the blond had been moving his hands aimlessly, but as he drew it to a close, he clapped them together again, blinking a few times and shaking his head. "Apologies for that, miss, I never know what's going on with myself any more." And that was the truth. After his little ramble, she introduced herself. Angeline Windsor. He repeated the name, feeling the words on his tongue while also resting his arms back down to his sides. "Yassou, Angeline and Fantamir," he greeted, nodding to the two, allowing his more serious, his saner side to take dominance and push him into being a gentleman. "Alistair Valentine. He'ro poli'. Are you going to trust me when I say I'm telling the truth?" He asked, smiling broadly with a good-natured air about him, referring to their earlier talk of lying about who you were.

template by darkee @ back to neverland.

[ANGELINE WINDSOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=width,420,true] [STYLE=float: left; width: 90px; height: 90px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 15px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 20px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; width: 50px; height: 60px; background-image: url(http://p23.pimg.in/Tln5.png); border-radius: 10px; border: #D13434 solid 3px; margin-left: 6px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: left; background-color: #D13434; color: #fff; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; text-shadow: #fff 1px 1px 1px; padding: 5px; margin-left: 10px;] A [/style][STYLE=float: left; color: #222; font-size: 30px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: -3px; padding: 4px; 2px 4px 0px;]IN'T A SCENE *[/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i.imgur.com/45860.gif); width: 450px; height: 80px; border-bottom: #D13434 6px solid; border-radius: 14px 14px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 14px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 14px; margin-top: -40px;] [/style] [STYLE=float: right; color: #222; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 4px; margin-top: -19px; margin-right: 8px;] IT'S A GODDAMN ARMS RACE [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; text-align: justify; color: #c2c2c2; font-size: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 10px; padding: 1px; padding-left: 122px;] ❚ WORDS --- ❚ TAGS someone ❚ NOTES WELLP. HI THURRR.[/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #c2c2c2; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; padding: 0px 30px 10px 30px;]Angeline took an instinctive step backwards, eyes widening slightly and lashes fluttering as she blinked warily – what was with this guy, anyway? Fantamir, sensing the sheer abnormality spewing from the man, shifted himself to move in front of Angeline slightly, and she felt comforted by that fact. He was rambling on, and on, and he wouldn’t stop, and she hardly had an idea of what he was talking about to begin with- He was weird, Angeline figured; then again, she felt that she had no real right to call anyone weird in the Order, anymore. Weird meant out of the ordinary, and those were usually the people that survived, anyway. So she supposed that perhaps it was a good thing he was weird; at least, in these damned times. Though from what he was saying, she could generally discern the reason why he’d so often been referred to as a ‘trickster,’ now. Angeline felt herself tiring – not particularly of this man, but simply doing this. She felt antsy already from lack of activity, and inwardly, she hated how she couldn’t stand to have a normal conversation for long. She’d been raised this way, after all; plucked from her satin dresses and silver crowns at the tender age of nine, and plopped right into the midst of a battlefield with a creature she’d just barely met. She’d never been allowed to have a childhood, and at such a malleable age, all she’d been taught was to keep moving, darling, never stop for breath or you’ll be dead, and spent most of her time locked up in training cells. So she supposed it was normal, to be such an adrenaline junkie, to have to work herself tirelessly, otherwise her body would reject rest. But in times like these, of idle conversations where her entire body itched to move, Angeline wished things weren’t so. Still, she lifted up the corners of her lips into a cheery smile, despite the sheer weight she seemed to be lifting just by smiling. Because, ah, that was who she was, wasn’t it? Angeline, ever cheery, ever happy- ”I don’t know – you tell me, mister,” she responded, laughing softly. ”But that’s okay – I think it’s rarer for someone to know what’s going on, these days, than to not, don’t you think? After all – if we all knew exactly what was happening in such acute awareness, well; we’d all go mad.” And then, Angeline laughed brightly, brushing off the morbid air of her prior words. [/style][STYLE=background-color: #1d1d1d; color: #434343; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8px; text-align: right; padding: 0px 10px 5px 0px;]made by ayu of btn [/style]

[Alistair Valentine]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 450px][atrb=style,background-color: #292929;] [style=background-color: #ECBD10; color: #292929; text-align: right; display: inline; width: 320px; float: left; padding-right: 5px;]i get more and more strange [/style] { i'm a punk i'm a sinner i'm a lost new beginner i'm a threat to myself i'm a get armageddon i'm a freak i'm a liar i'm a flirt i deny that i know it then i mess it up i'm a bit suicidal i'm my own worst rival train wreck white trash freak maniac psycho i'm a trouble making rebel made a deal with the devil i'm way past ever coming back } He could tell that he was causing Angeline to feel uncomfortable around him, the dragon becoming protective over her as evidenced by him moving in front of the other. Alistair could feel the twitch of a smirk upon his lips, out of amusement. It was fun for him, to make people distrust him, because regaining their trust, well that was the fun of getting to know a person. You may call Alistair weird, but thing is, he was just looking of ways to distract himself from the atrocities of war and the boredom of peace. Just looking to make his life harder, because it was more interesting that way. And you know what was also interesting? The fact that Angeline was holding a mask to her own face, trying to be cheerful, to be happy, despite the chaos of life right now. You know, the discord caused by the chaotic demon cannon ball things that spat some sort of radioactive-but-not-really poisonous acid at people and tattooed them with black stars making the victim look like they got attacked by a four year old with a black sharpie. Those things, floating about like crazy and causing general chaos in the public by trying to kill them. Yep, life was crazy -- just how he liked it. Distracting and fun, with the rush of feeling like you could die at any moment. "Guess you can trust me to comfort you if you need it... Try to, anyway," Alistair said in response to her answer to his question. He let out a laugh at the end of his sentence, wondering how he would actually react to someone crying. Knowing him, he'd probably do as he did before and butt in and find out what was wrong, then try and distract them. He was sort of good at that. To him, he never really felt that his attempts to comfort someone worked. If they had worked, maybe that event five years ago wouldn't have happened... "I guess if I paid attention I would know what was going on. I'd know every little detail. Thing is though, sunshine, being mad isn't a bad thing. It lets you see things in a new light," Alistair slowly moved forward, reaching a hand out to Fantamir's head, eyes trained on the familiar dragon with a look that seemed to ask if he could pet him. "So, are you only recently a general?" Perhaps it was better to get off the topic of madness.

template by darkee @ back to neverland.