Your CS Pet Pairs? (NEW THREAD)

[Lennie]

woops. sorry, ignore this, I apologize.

[DistantFootsteps]

Caldro and Millie

"Racing faster
Escape disaster
Partners in crime will leave their mark
We make our own way
No thoughts of yesterday
Black hearts of chrome and battle scars
...

Born from a dream
On leather wings
Rose from the streets
With our hand on destiny"

-They Legacy, Black Veil Brides-

[s y n]

|| We are both too different
Like a butterfly and a hawk ||

"Let us play a game. A game of hide and seek. A game where you are it, and where your prey is me."

|| Or perhaps a crow
and a bird that loves to mock ||

"You really wanna test me? Okay, I'll play your game. But let me just remind you, we are not the same."

|| Play it once, play it twice,
Take the risk and roll your dice ||

"No, good sir, we are not the same. If you win, I'll grant you wishes - But if you fail, may I have your name?"

|| How much will you sacrifice?
Next time it could be your l i f e ||

"I don't know why you'd want it... But take my name for all I care. And if I win, may I know the name of you, my lady so fair?"

|| Everything you have is on the line
Who will w!i!n and who will d.i.e? ||

"Now, my dear, it's time to die. But since you won...
I go by The B u t t e r f l y."

[starry--knight]

|| We are both too different
Like a butterfly and a hawk ||

"Let us play a game. A game of hide and seek. A game where you are it, and where your prey is me."

|| Or perhaps a crow
and a bird that loves to mock ||

"You really wanna test me? Okay, I'll play your game. But let me just remind you, we are not the same."

|| Play it once, play it twice,
Take the risk and roll your dice ||

"No, good sir, we are not the same. If you win, I'll grant you wishes - But if you fail, may I have your name?"

|| How much will you sacrifice?
Next time it could be your l i f e ||

"I don't know why you'd want it... But take my name for all I care. And if I win, may I know the name of you, my lady so fair?"

|| Everything you have is on the line
Who will w!i!n and who will d.i.e? ||

"Now, my dear, it's time to die. But since you won...
I go by The B u t t e r f l y."

I absolutely love this! You did a fabulous job!

[Miss Captain Sexy]

all right so I haven't done this in quite some time, the concept of asking people which story they would prefer, but I have a handful of ideas and inspirations, and I don't want to flood this place with my disorganized, weird, obnoxious stories. So, simple enough, which would you guys prefer?

| | | | |
| |
aliea - - - - - - - - keriana
- ? -
"Hey sis?" A pause seemed to hang momentarily in the air before the elder sibling replied. "Hm?" The reply seemed immediate from the younger, perky child, her voice reflecting the evidence of smiling. "Can we play a game?"
The elder girl paused once more. "You do realize it's late, and it's dark out. Right?" Her gaze finally turned to her sibling with a faint, exasperated smirk. "Fine, what do you want to play?"
"How bout, Hide and Seek?"

- | - | - | -
jacques - - - - - - - - - - - - - - touxica
"It was you, wasn't it?"
The young creature smirked faintly, her expression revealing both arrogance and humor. "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean my dear." Turning to face him a moment later, she leaned back against the counter, smiling a tad.
"Care to specify?"
The man's expression hardly changed as he watched her, the edges of his lips revealing a faint smirk.
"You were the killer, weren't you?"
A dry laugh came from the creature, her wings fluttering a tad, her striking eyes blinking a moment later.
"My darling, be careful what you wish for."

| | | | | | |
zenelios - - - - - - - - - - octavie
"what do you mean he is missing?"
Time passed as a muffled reply was given in response to the young man's question. A sigh was evident as he turned, walking out into the darkness of the evening's outdoors, leaning against the end post of the fencing a moment later, a lantern from the post held limply in his hand.
"if no one holds interest in finding him, perhaps I should search myself."
Smiling a tad, he walked into the darkness, his dark ensemble blending quickly into the darkness of the new moon night.

I like the first and second!!

[aleatory]

"Who are you?"
The boy shrugged. "I'm experiment 0-point-2."
The girl looked puzzled for a moment. "That's what you are. But who are you?"

The only thing that came to mind when I saw the 02 on this pup's shoulder :3

[Selcouth]

One day, I will finish one of the several different stories I started writing in the past, posted, and forgot about. One day.
Today is not that day. :D''''''

Cryptaesthesia [♂] .&& The Ghost {Arthur} [♂]
x-x-x-x

In the normally deserted, silent halls of Rune University's abandoned upper floors, the floor-length curtains flapped. They were stylishly moth-bitten, and ordered with the specification that they billow dramatically to scare wandering students. The university, being one of magic and magically-inclined studies, spared no expanse in this department. The entire thing resembled something from a children's story book; it did not precisely loom over the city- which would have been neigh-on imposable, considering Ceno City's expansive range of sky-scrapers and nuclear generators, processors, and of course the royal SoLune tower not a block away- but it lurked. It practically defined Gothic architecture in the city, with its sweeping arches and spirals, and an ancient bell tower rose from its decorated dome center.

The idea behind all of this was, if you're going to house almost every wizard and witch in Ceno, it may as well look intriguing.

Students and professors mostly mulled about in the lower floors of the building. The upper parts were generally left alone, although it was rumored that the professors occasionally conducted experiments up there, or that monstrous gargoyles roamed the halls while deformed men rang the bells. Others said it was a lavish paradise that the professors lived in, while their students were forced to share common rooms. Some whispered theories about a temporal morphic field, whatever that meant. Most people agreed that it was better left alone.

Most people, except for a group of young adolescents called the "Letters". {Their name derived from the terrible chain-letters they started; which, in this type of university, had a bit more substance than they originally thought.} The Letters were your general group of school-yard bullies, who taunted and teased any student nice enough not to bash their heads in with magic, or dumb enough not to be able to. {And they set the bar pretty high.}

Sometime earlier this particular evening, after dinner and come and gone, they targeted their favourite victim and bullied him up the stairs, into the abandoned floors. The poor boy's name was Cryptaesthesia, which was far too difficult for any of the Letters to pronounce, so they simply called him Crypt.

He quivered violently at the mouth of a corridor. Crypt was not a brave soul, and probably justifiably so. He was a natural clairvoyant, a medium, and occasionally a prophet when a passing God or Goddess decided they needed to rant but didn't want to draw any attention to themselves. Crypt often saw things that were disastrous or downright terrifying, whether they were visions, or ghosts, or pissed-off Gods who've had a bad week. Being something of a hypochondriac with luck as opposed to disease, he carried around almost every good luck charm known to mankind, and hoped that the visions he's seen will just pass him by instead of making him an active participant.

Crypt tip-toed down the corridor with his eyes welded shut and his shoulders scrunched up around his ears. He didn't need to watch his feet- he knew where things were before he hit them, on account of seeing himself hitting them in some alternate probability-future. It wasn't entirely clear how this worked, but it gave him headaches trying to think about it. Under his breath, he muttered chants for bravery; They were of his own devising, though later they might be picked up by a writer on a train, and used to make an awful lot of money.

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." He whispered, with little whimpers at each interval. Something in the air changed, then, and his breath caught- he was perhaps nearing the halfway point in the corridor. He snapped his eyes open, too plugged in to the spiritual world to not feel that. His shivering increased ten-fold, and he raced to the door in front of him.

Had he payed attention to his surroundings on more than just a psychic level, he would have seen the pictures following him with more than just their eyes, craning their watercolour necks to see him better. The statues followed suit, and perhaps even the wind was taking an interest. They never got visitors up here.

Crypt retched the door open, flung himself inside, slammed it shut and leaned against it, panting. Something was going on here- Everything suddenly felt alive.

Then he looked up.

An admittedly handsome face stared at him, clearly surprised. It was pure white, and a little wispy, like a cloud trying to make itself seem human. It was partly see-through. It was obviously a ghost, though quite unlike the ones Crypt was used to; for one, it seemed like it was trying to make itself whole again, not dissipating like the lower-level spirits. Most were fairly content to just hang around as formless matter, occasionally playing tricks on the silly humans, but this one...

"What on Earth are you?" It... Said? There was the faint feeling of words hanging around in the air, but they were so intangible that it might have just been the wind passing by his ears. Crypt pulled himself up, straightening his back; a ghost was a ghost, and he was good with ghosts.

It presumably spoke again before he had the chance to, the odd sensation of someone talking but not actually there creeping over the room. "Seriously, what are you?"

Crypt cleared his throat, feeling a little out of his league. "Ah, hello, sir? My name is Cryptae-"

He was cut off by an echoing screech, which he only half-heard; but it pressed against his eardrums, shattering windows outward and swirling the loose papers that once dotted the floor in piles. The ghost was the one yelling, apparently, curling into a fetal position in the air. "Human!" It said, fisting its hands in its hair. "Human! Leave me alone! You're-- solid! You are not one of us, you are what I wish to become! Leave! Human!"

"Hey, woah, calm down!" Said Crypt, approaching the terrified ghost without really thinking. A hundred scenarios played out in his head, things that could or would happen- he pushed them away, grabbing the creature's arms. To his bewilderment, they were sort of solid. "What-?"

"No, stop! Get back! Don't touch me, I'm not stable enough for that!" Wailed the specter, increasing the psychic pressure in the room. Books were pulled from the shelves, flung against the walls. An ancient chandelier swung around on its chain. Crypt's ears felt like they were going to leak blood at any moment, but he held on- he knew that ghosts were stubborn.

"Quit it! I can help! Whatever it is, I can help!"

The ghost glared at him, baring its teeth. "You can help with nothing, foolish boy- you're only undoing what I've done! Let me go! Leave; I just want to be human again, so just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Everything stopped. The books fell to the floor, the papers glided back down; the curtains returned to their original positions and the pressure lifted from Crypt's senses. His whole body slumped after that, finally allowing himself to breathe.
The spirit was stock-still, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes- then it shoved him back and floated to the opposite side of the room, staring at its hands. It was even more tangible than before, solid white creating a thin human silhouette, surrounded by the ever-present glow. It was a little like an xray of a cocoon.

"What..." It said, and then coughed a bit; it sounded like a person who hadn't spoken in years. A human person. There was hardly a trace of ghostliness left, aside from a light echo. "What did you do-?"

Cryptaesthesia, who had made quite a dent in the wall when shoved, pushed himself to his elbows. He was sitting in a pile of rubble, laughing and smiling stupidly at the spirit, his glasses crooked and cracked. His ribs hurt horribly, and he'd probably broke a bone; but the ghost's expression was one of utter bewilderment, and it was precious, like a kitten who'd wandered in the path of a dinosaur.

"What did you do?!"

"I told you, I can help. I don't know what you're doing, but I can help."

Not exactly proof-read, not exactly my best; but I wanted to try the text thing. ^^;

[. Delirium .]

One day, I will finish one of the several different stories I started writing in the past, posted, and forgot about. One day.
Today is not that day. ''''''

Cryptaesthesia [♂] .&& The Ghost {Arthur} [♂]
x-x-x-x

In the normally deserted, silent halls of Rune University's abandoned upper floors, the floor-length curtains flapped. They were stylishly moth-bitten, and ordered with the specification that they billow dramatically to scare wandering students. The university, being one of magic and magically-inclined studies, spared no expanse in this department. The entire thing resembled something from a children's story book; it did not precisely loom over the city- which would have been neigh-on imposable, considering Ceno City's expansive range of sky-scrapers and nuclear generators, processors, and of course the royal SoLune tower not a block away- but it lurked. It practically defined Gothic architecture in the city, with its sweeping arches and spirals, and an ancient bell tower rose from its decorated dome center.

The idea behind all of this was, if you're going to house almost every wizard and witch in Ceno, it may as well look intriguing.

Students and professors mostly mulled about in the lower floors of the building. The upper parts were generally left alone, although it was rumored that the professors occasionally conducted experiments up there, or that monstrous gargoyles roamed the halls while deformed men rang the bells. Others said it was a lavish paradise that the professors lived in, while their students were forced to share common rooms. Some whispered theories about a temporal morphic field, whatever that meant. Most people agreed that it was better left alone.

Most people, except for a group of young adolescents called the "Letters". {Their name derived from the terrible chain-letters they started; which, in this type of university, had a bit more substance than they originally thought.} The Letters were your general group of school-yard bullies, who taunted and teased any student nice enough not to bash their heads in with magic, or dumb enough not to be able to. {And they set the bar pretty high.}

Sometime earlier this particular evening, after dinner and come and gone, they targeted their favourite victim and bullied him up the stairs, into the abandoned floors. The poor boy's name was Cryptaesthesia, which was far too difficult for any of the Letters to pronounce, so they simply called him Crypt.

He quivered violently at the mouth of a corridor. Crypt was not a brave soul, and probably justifiably so. He was a natural clairvoyant, a medium, and occasionally a prophet when a passing God or Goddess decided they needed to rant but didn't want to draw any attention to themselves. Crypt often saw things that were disastrous or downright terrifying, whether they were visions, or ghosts, or pissed-off Gods who've had a bad week. Being something of a hypochondriac with luck as opposed to disease, he carried around almost every good luck charm known to mankind, and hoped that the visions he's seen will just pass him by instead of making him an active participant.

Crypt tip-toed down the corridor with his eyes welded shut and his shoulders scrunched up around his ears. He didn't need to watch his feet- he knew where things were before he hit them, on account of seeing himself hitting them in some alternate probability-future. It wasn't entirely clear how this worked, but it gave him headaches trying to think about it. Under his breath, he muttered chants for bravery; They were of his own devising, though later they might be picked up by a writer on a train, and used to make an awful lot of money.

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." He whispered, with little whimpers at each interval. Something in the air changed, then, and his breath caught- he was perhaps nearing the halfway point in the corridor. He snapped his eyes open, too plugged in to the spiritual world to not feel that. His shivering increased ten-fold, and he raced to the door in front of him.

Had he payed attention to his surroundings on more than just a psychic level, he would have seen the pictures following him with more than just their eyes, craning their watercolour necks to see him better. The statues followed suit, and perhaps even the wind was taking an interest. They never got visitors up here.

Crypt retched the door open, flung himself inside, slammed it shut and leaned against it, panting. Something was going on here- Everything suddenly felt alive.

Then he looked up.

An admittedly handsome face stared at him, clearly surprised. It was pure white, and a little wispy, like a cloud trying to make itself seem human. It was partly see-through. It was obviously a ghost, though quite unlike the ones Crypt was used to; for one, it seemed like it was trying to make itself whole again, not dissipating like the lower-level spirits. Most were fairly content to just hang around as formless matter, occasionally playing tricks on the silly humans, but this one...

"What on Earth are you?" It... Said? There was the faint feeling of words hanging around in the air, but they were so intangible that it might have just been the wind passing by his ears. Crypt pulled himself up, straightening his back; a ghost was a ghost, and he was good with ghosts.

It presumably spoke again before he had the chance to, the odd sensation of someone talking but not actually there creeping over the room. "Seriously, what are you?"

Crypt cleared his throat, feeling a little out of his league. "Ah, hello, sir? My name is Cryptae-"

He was cut off by an echoing screech, which he only half-heard; but it pressed against his eardrums, shattering windows outward and swirling the loose papers that once dotted the floor in piles. The ghost was the one yelling, apparently, curling into a fetal position in the air. "Human!" It said, fisting its hands in its hair. "Human! Leave me alone! You're-- solid! You are not one of us, you are what I wish to become! Leave! Human!"

"Hey, woah, calm down!" Said Crypt, approaching the terrified ghost without really thinking. A hundred scenarios played out in his head, things that could or would happen- he pushed them away, grabbing the creature's arms. To his bewilderment, they were sort of solid. "What-?"

"No, stop! Get back! Don't touch me, I'm not stable enough for that!" Wailed the specter, increasing the psychic pressure in the room. Books were pulled from the shelves, flung against the walls. An ancient chandelier swung around on its chain. Crypt's ears felt like they were going to leak blood at any moment, but he held on- he knew that ghosts were stubborn.

"Quit it! I can help! Whatever it is, I can help!"

The ghost glared at him, baring its teeth. "You can help with nothing, foolish boy- you're only undoing what I've done! Let me go! Leave; I just want to be human again, so just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Everything stopped. The books fell to the floor, the papers glided back down; the curtains returned to their original positions and the pressure lifted from Crypt's senses. His whole body slumped after that, finally allowing himself to breathe.
The spirit was stock-still, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes- then it shoved him back and floated to the opposite side of the room, staring at its hands. It was even more tangible than before, solid white creating a thin human silhouette, surrounded by the ever-present glow. It was a little like an xray of a cocoon.

"What..." It said, and then coughed a bit; it sounded like a person who hadn't spoken in years. A human person. There was hardly a trace of ghostliness left, aside from a light echo. "What did you do-?"

Cryptaesthesia, who had made quite a dent in the wall when shoved, pushed himself to his elbows. He was sitting in a pile of rubble, laughing and smiling stupidly at the spirit, his glasses crooked and cracked. His ribs hurt horribly, and he'd probably broke a bone; but the ghost's expression was one of utter bewilderment, and it was precious, like a kitten who'd wandered in the path of a dinosaur.

"What did you do?!"

"I told you, I can help. I don't know what you're doing, but I can help."

Not exactly proof-read, not exactly my best; but I wanted to try the text thing. ^^;

Ah amazing!
*cheers for more*
~Shawna

[aquamarine]

As Sarah wrapped her arms around her father one last time, she shut her eyes as tight as she could in a failed attempt to stop the hot tears that burned the backs of her eyelids and slid down her face. Her father gazed into her soulful brown eyes and gave her a final kiss on the top of her head before standing up and walking out the door.

~~

Sarah sat at the window, watching as her father stepped lightly into a horse-drawn carriage, preparing for his long journey into to the army. Just before the horse pulled the carriage out of sight, he looked back to the house and blew her a kiss. Sarah pressed her hands to the window, sobbing.

~~

The headmistress led the way to the attack as Sarah followed. She gave her strict instructions to stay there. Turning back, the headmistress reminded her once more that she was no longer a princess, but an orphan and a servant girl. The sound of the slamming door echoed in Sarah's ear. She picked up a broken piece of white chalk from the floor and drew a circle in the center of the room on the wooden floor. Lowering herself, Sarah knelt to the floor and began to sob, crying out her father's name again and again until at last, she fell asleep.

~~

The police were on their way. After being informed that a little girl from the local boarding school had fled to a neighboring house in an attempt to escape the headmistress, they were now downstairs banging on the neighbor's door, demanding to be let in. Sarah could hear them explaining to the old man what was happening from her hiding place in the living room. Frightened and alone, she put her head down and began to cry quietly. The sound attracted the young man sitting in the living room armchair and he rose from his seat to ask what was wrong.

~~

[anyone get the reference?? feel free to fill in what happens next in the storrrryyy if you do!]

[cswolf.]

Jessie(f)...........Joker(m)
Beauty............Rejection
She was a beautyful archer of the kings kingdom.I was just the kings rejection
Story: http://mycsthings.weebly.com