Gender:

Eye color:
Eye type(Wide, narrow, regularish):

Hair color:
Hair type(spikey, straight, wavy):

Skin tone:

Race, if applicable(elf, neko, inu*):

Personality traits?(Shy, angry, hyper*):

Are there any other details you would like to add?(tattoos, scars, ect):

…

*[1] Inu is a Dog person. Neko is a cat person. Kitsune is a fox person, and you would just write “wolf girl/boy” for a wolf person. Just for the record.

*[2] This is to help me find a good base that will match your character.

PS, I am hating on Wordpress right about now. It’s being a superbitch.

So, last night, me, Gina, Brian and a friend of Brian and Gina’s, Joey, went joyriding. Brian was driving. Crazy bastard.
I had already known that something was going to go wrong, somewhere deep in my gut, because Brian was driving the back roads to Oneonta at between 50-70 MPH the whole way. At one point, I remember he got up to 80, maybe 82. I understand that whole teenager thing about driving fast is fun, but I will never EVER drive that fast on a backroad in all my life.

The whole time I was thinking somewhere in the back of my head, “We’re going to spin out, crash head on into someone else…”

And I sure as hell jinxed us.

We had driven to Oneonta and made it there alive, and after turning around in the parking lot at the mall, we were deciding which way to go home. Brian wanted a different back road to drive, so Gina gave him one. Apparently, I think it was something like “Go to Delhi, and then Treadwell, and then hop on some county road and make your way back to Sidney.” Brian and Joey agreed that they could go that way. I was helpless in the back seat. I can’t drive,  so how the hell am I supposed to know these routes?

At any rate, Brian continued his assault on the road, and we were heading back home at around 70 mph, give or take 5-10 mph depending on the turns.

So, we were driving up this slight incline, and there are suddenly high beams in our face. Someone was driving towards us on the opposite side of the road, and they didn’t turn down their high beams. So, as a result, we were blinded for just long enough. Before any of us had time to tell Brian “HEY THERE’S A CURVE THAT YOU SHOULD SRSLY SLOW DOWN ON!”, we were upon a junction. The one where 357 goes sort of to the right but mostly straight, and 28 practically turns itself into a knot trying to get away from 357. We hit that curve at 68-70 mph, and the back wheels gave in to inertia and kept going sideways.

At that point, I don’t really remember when I saw; everything was happening so fast and so loudly, my brain couldn’t register it fast enough, so most of it is a total blur. Not to mention, I closed my eyes for a few seconds whenever he hit a particularly hard “bump”. I know what happened, but I don’t remember it. We went over a slight bank, down an incline and across 357 into some conveniently place trees. Or something like that.

All I really remember is feeling my body jerking around with the cars movements, and bracing myself for the most amount of pain I would ever experience. And Gina screaming Brian’s name over and over, which was probably the scariest thing. I’ve never seen Gina lose her cool like that in such a situation. The closest I ever came to that was when she hit that deer on the way to Binghamton. She had shrieked mostly in horror and surprise, but she hadn’t panicked and freaked out like last night.

The impact on the tree was devastating mainly to the car and Brain, but not so much the tree. We hit it at a hard-to-describe-angle. To put it simply, the left corner of the hood of the car completely slammed into the tree, crushing a lot of it into pulp and metal. The smell of twisting hot metal was nauseating, and scary.

And then Gina started to panic again. The first thing she said when we stopped moving was “Brain?!”, probably because she was afraid that he’d died. I’m pretty sure he managed to garble out something like, “Is everyone okay?” but no one really heard him, I don’t think. The next thing I found out was that Gina’s foot was stuck, which scared the crap out of me, mainly because of how she worded it.

“M-my foots stuck!” Brain was trying to move, and free himself, but Gina continued with something along the lines of, “Brain don’t move the seat, my foots stuck!!” She scared me, because I thought she meant “I can’t move my foot, it’s numb/broken.”

Oh, wait, I’m forgetting something. No, the first thing Gina said when we firs timpacted wasn’t “My foots stuck”. It was “Oh God, my leg, my legs gone!”

I don’t know if she remembers saying that, but I sure as hell do. That was why I initially panicked internally. I kept calm, though, thankfully,(don’t really know how I managed THAT, but whatever) and I looked at Brian, who was stirring. Not looking around; stirring, as if he had lost consciousness for a brief second or so. I glanced at Joey, and he seemed to be looking at Brian to see if he was okay.

Then, I looked to Gina. All of this glancing around happened in mere seconds. I didn’t think I was the type to so easily relax and assess when I’m the one in the goddamn accident. Maybe I should become an ER surgeon.

Anyway, Gina had freed most of her leg by that point, and she was in the process of worrying about her foot. I think I recall saying something like, “Gina, what’s wrong with your foot?” to which she hysterically replied, “It’s stuck!”

She managed to wrench her foot free, of course. She later told me that she had been terrified that the car was going to explode and she’d be trapped inside it.

I don’t blame her.

Joey pulled himself out of the car first; Brain followed, despite his half-consciousness and lack of memory. I followed and made sure to check that Gina would be okay. She rejecte dmy assistance completely, but I just wanted to make sure that she could walk. Told her to avoid the huge branch that was right outside our car door, which she did. She was able to walk fine. By the time we got out of the car, Brian was sitting on the trunk, looking like a mess. His arm was bleeding, but it wasn’t arterial; it just looked gross. A bunch of people where there before we’d even gotten out of the car. It started out as a married couple(or so I assumed) and it turned into a freaking mob.

The woman called 911, and Gina went over to check on Brian and make sure he was okay. Apparently, from what I heard, he was extremely groggy and an emotional wreck. He kept apologizing to Gina when she went over to check on him, telling her that he screwed up and stuff. I wasn’t there to hear him, as I had lended Gina my sandal to walk through the dirt and rocks and stuff.

I vaguely remember getting my vitals checked, and I recall the state trooper who stole Gina’s license and has yet to give it back to her. I remember Gina telling the story of how we almost died to 50 million people, because they couldn’t just tell each other, they had to ask us 50 million times with 50 million different people. I remember the ambulance ride. They had to put me in the stretcher, mainly because I was a minor. I felt fine, so I’m still not sure why I was the one getting completely babied.

Mom met us at the hospital, as Gina had used the nice lady-who-called-the-911’s  phone to call home. We spent fore er in the ER, getting checked and not checked. I got to clean the nasty smeared blood off my legs, and I also got and x-ray of my sternum and chest, because my sternum was hurting, and the pain was going all the way through to my spine.

In the end, Brian’s okay, I’m okay, Gina’s okay, and Joey’s okay. Everybody lived, and Brian has probably learned a good, nurturing lesson from this experience.

At this point, my chest and back still hurt, and I’ve got this really nasty seat belt bruise on my shoulder, and another on my left hip. And I have a ton of “abrasions’ and “contusions” all over my legs, not to mention the awesome rug burn on my ASS CHEEK + the long cut up my OTHER ASS CHEEK.

…

Scott = Tattoo*
Bacon = Bacon
Shisei = Tattoo
Bekon = Bacon
Scott Bacon in Japanese is Bekon Shisei
————————————————————
Terra = Earth
Barnhart = descedent of Berinhard(Strong, hard)*
Tsuchi = Earth
Sosenken = Ancestor of strength
Terra Barnhart in Japanese is Sosenken Tsuchi
————————————————————
Chris = A Christian
Monahan = Descendent of Manacháin(Little Monk)
Shinja = Christian
Sokeibiso = Ancestor of little monk
Chris Monahan in Japanese is Sokeibiso Shinja
————————————————————
Kim = Golden
Bodo = to command
Kogane = Golden
Meizuru = command
Kim Bodo in Japanese is Meizuru Kogane
————————————————————
Aileen = Torch
Tallmadge = Knapsack
Taimatsu = Torch
Haino = Knapsack
Aileen Tallmadge in Japanese is Haino Taimatsu

……………………………………..

*[1] I am sitting here DYING OF LAUGHTER!

*[2]Took me freakin’ FOREVER to find that out.

You’ll also notice that Fred’s surname is different from Derek’s surname. Well, its not in this post, but I changed Derek’s surname to match Fred’s, because the new one that I got matched the original meaning of “Stafford” better. One more thing, in case you are wondering; Soren Anges is my black sheep.

…

Kasedy = Ancestor
Sakino’oya = Ancestor
Byrne = Raven
Koyokarasu = descendent of Bran*[1]
Kasedy Burnes in Japanese is Koyokarasu Sakino’oya
————————————————————
Natalie = Christmas Day
Seitansai = Christmas
Hornbeck = Horn Stream
Tsunokawa = Horn Stream
Natalie Hornbeck in Japanese is Tsunokawa Seitansai
————————————————————
Steve = Crown
Kurai = Crown
Walker = Walker
Hoko’osa = Walker
Steve Walker in Japanese is Hoko’osa Kurai
————————————————————
Fred = Peaceful Ruler
Yasui’oja = Peaceful Ruler
Stafford = Maker of Staffs
Chokotsue = Maker of Staff
Fred Stafford in Japanese is Chokotsue Yasui’oja
————————————————————
Soren = Stern
Tomo = Stern
Agnes = Lamb
Kohitsuji = Lamb
Soren Agnes in Japanese is Tomo Kohitsuji

…

If you have any names that you would like me to translate into Japanese, then let me know, and I’ll gladly do it!

…

*[1] – Byrne means “Descendant of Bran”, and “Bran” means “Raven”, so, in the end, I used “Descendant of Raven” as my translation base. I actually do hope that her name is Byrne and not Byrnes, because then I’d feel retarded.

We have recently received word from an anonymous source that you have a Sister Complex. After investigating, we have discovered that you miss your sister so much that you cry, and sometimes sob, when you think about her, Regina, who isn’t home at the moment. We have also learned that you have fallen in love with your sister, and would willingly become an item with her if she would have you.

You have been diagnosed as a Type 8 Sister Complex on the Ghetto scale. In order to further research the development of such a high ranking Sister Complex, we will be facilitating you as soon as possible. We will be breaking into your house and raiding your room to find you. Please don’t hide, or we may have to resort to using your sister to draw you out. The date of our exact arrival is yet unknown, so please don’t hold your breath.

Sincerely,

The Official Sister Complex Research Facility and Society of the United States of America

…

Dear Sister Complex Research Society,

Thanks for the warning, jackass.

Your Truly,

Kimberly Baker

…
This year, in 2010, there was an earthquake in Haiti. Michael was unable to arrange the artists this time around, since he’s long since dead, but in his memory and to help support Haiti, they did the same song again, with artists from me and Gina’s era. my god, its amazing. Especially the rap part.

And here’s the after Pictures. As you can see, I have no hair.

It’s awesome!!!

Okay, one more, side view!

It was really cool to finally get my hair cut. I’m actually sick right now, but I forced myself to attend school, because I really wanted this cut. And it came out really good! Mr. Bacon likes it too. Also, according to I think Jane or Ms. Monahan (don’t remember, even though it was today) told me that it makes me look a bit older. The women in the cosmetology lab also told me that the cut really fits my face well, so I’m happy.

Plus, Mr. Bacon likes it.

Spencer: …

Tobias: What are you lookin’ at, boy?

Spencer: *looks away* *watches him put wood on the fire that is burning fish hearts and livers* You’re not Raphael…

Tobias: Do I look like Raphael?

Spencer: *Long silence* Thank you for burning those… You’re keeping us safe.

Tobias: … Don’t try to trick me.

Spencer: I would never try to trick you.

Tobias: You’re a liar.

Spencer: I’m not a liar…

Tobias: Lying is a sin.

Spencer: I’m not a liar!

Tobias: This would all be over quickly if you’d just confess your sins.

Spencer: I’m not a sinner.

*Tobias is angrily taking off Spencer’s shoes and socks*

Spencer: Th-the lord sp-spake up to Moses; speak unto all the… the congregation of the children of the lord, and tell them; “Ye shall be holy, for I the lord, your God, am holy.”

Tobias: You know Leviticus.

Spencer: I know every word of the bible. I can recite it for you.

Tobias: … Devil can read too.

Spencer: I’m not a Devil. I’m a man, my name is Spencer Reid, and I have a mother and a father just like you, and they taught me the bible! L-let me just… let me just recite the bible, can I just…

Tobias: It’s time to confess Spencer Reid. *hold up this stick/board thing and prepares to beat Spencer’s foot with it*

Spencer: … *makes a face that would go well with a whimper and squirms*

Tobias: *hits him on the bottom of his foot with the board/log*

Spencer: *YELPS*

Tobias: Confess!

Spencer: *strained* I don’t have anything to confess… *YELPS again as he is hit again*

…

I find it rather fail that I have that ENTIRE FUCKING SCENE MEMORIZED. I kinda hate myself right now. FAIL! I know this scene from start to finish. I know a lot of the details, I have the lines memorized… Yea, I need a life.

So, I got inspiration from the above song, and I though I’d share my results with you. I hope you enjoy this little story thing I wrote. It really says something about my state of mind. Haha.

On the third day of every month, he comes up for a breather. He finds himself in a hot desert, his black suit not helping with the heat. His cool skin bubbles angrily at the sudden feeling of warmth, muscular spasms across his body. He does not like heat; it is probably a cruel joke of his brother’s to make him surface in a desert every month.
On the little finger of his left hand, there is a ring. It’s rather large, a bit heavy, and the design is that of the Star of David. Its rather plain other than that; simple black and silver design. But he likes it, because it is the one other thing that his brother gave him, besides the dark and dank basement of the universe.
He loosens his tie as he clambers into the black mustang, dabbing at the collecting sweat on his forehead with a white handkerchief. He grabs the key, already in the ignition, and turns on his car.
He drives off into the approaching daylight, his greasy black hair hanging limply around his shoulders. The windows are up, no air is flowing. The heat in the car would be unbearable for any normal person, but he is not a normal person.
He has to keep quiet; he has to not make a fuss. He knows for a fact that, if he makes too much noise, he’ll be caught and probably locked up for a couple of days again. Every move is carefully planned out in his mind; every little movement that he makes is all part of a plan.
He’s attending a meeting. All business, and he has to make sure that he doesn’t say much. He has to keep his cool; he has to remain calm at all times. The scent of burning brimstone has filled the car with a sense of home, and the little pine tree that’s supposed to eliminate odors is doing absolutely nothing.
People think they have him all figured out; they think they know what he’s like. They think they know that he’s cunning, and evil, and filled with all the anger and rage of humans.
They’re right, but still… there is a little more to him than anger, fire and brimstone. He is pretty evil, but he isn’t the epitome of it. No, humans are the epitome of evil. He knows this. He made them that way to spite his brother.
That had been a fun time.
He’s more like the epitome of wit. His symbol ought not to be demons and fire, but foxes and fire. If he remembered correctly, there was an internet program called something like “foxfire” or maybe “fire fox.” He didn’t really remember. He didn’t use the internet. He just knew things that mattered to him. If he didn’t, then he asked. Unlike his brother, he was not afraid of his lacking knowledge of everything and anything. He was not nearly as insecure.
Of course, he wasn’t supposed to call his brother “insecure”. It was against the rules.
The rules of the game were simple. Do not disobey, do not insult, do not kill, do not touch the humans.
He and his brother played the game constantly. The Earth was their playing field, and they used the people as their chess pieces. Of course, the game was one sided. The rules didn’t apply to his older brother; the older brother could do whatever he wanted to get rid of the filth that he had lain down on the fresh soil, awaiting the chance to destroy.
His babies… most of them were dead.
So, one ought to be sympathetic with his trials and troubles. There were many of them, after all.
He was flawed, closer to the regular person than his older brother. He was not perfect, he was not beautiful. His hair was black and greasy-looking. His eyes were usually green, but sometimes turned to a more hazel color during the winter. His skin was rather pasty looking, and he bruised easily. He didn’t know everything, and he couldn’t do everything. He wasn’t in control of every aspect of life and death, and he was often ridiculed and punished for mistakes.
And yet, they still called him evil. Perhaps humans believed that flaws and imperfection were the embodiment of impurity and evil. Perhaps they believed that, if one was not beautiful and perfect, then they could not be a ruler, they could not be holy, and they could not have anything.
And yet, they never applied these factors to themselves. How very trite!
So, if one met him, they ought to have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and a bit of taste. He was average, he was not perfect, and even the people ought to be able to se that.
He arrived at his destination, finally. He turned off his car, and clambered out of it, grabbing his suitcase and bringing it with him into the air conditioned building. Floor six, he pressed the buttons on the elevator and waited. An annoying elevator song came on, and he was forced to listen to it as the machinery worked its way up the floors. He reached up a hand and brushed his hair out of his face.
The doors opened, and he exited the small room, his heart beat slowing down. That was another flaw; he was claustrophobic, but that wasn’t his fault. That was his brother’s fault. His wonderful brother loved to lock him in small, cramped rooms when he misbehaved.
Which, by the way, was often.
He walked down the hallway, to the very last door on the left. He could hear the sounds of a dozen elder men talking, plotting huge ways to corrupt their businesses ever further. He was going to be the youngest there, or at least, he was going to look like the youngest there.
He grasped the door knob, turned it, and pushed open the door. The room fell silent as every head in the room turned to see the newcomer. He paid them no mind, walking around the table to the empty seat beside the leader of the meeting, his seat. The one designated for him, inconspicuously labeled with his initials, “L.M.” He sat down, placing the suitcase on his lap and staring at the table silently. He would not allow his gaze to wander around thee room, lingering on the foulest sinners.
He wanted to, but he wouldn’t.
“Who is this?”
The leader of the meeting smiled greedily at him, “He’s our provider,” their leader replied, “He might not look like all that much, but he’s got the cash.”
It was usual.
He paid them, they took the money, and he didn’t leave for at least an hour. He didn’t drink any of the expensive champagne that they had ordered. He didn’t trust them, and he didn’t want to know what the old perverts would do to him if he allowed himself to become intoxicated.
The disgusting scent of smoke filled the room, marijuana and cigarettes being lit all around the room. The fire made him feel a little more at home, but he still wasn’t allowing himself to loosen up. He didn’t dare.
He didn’t know when his brother might decide to drop by, so he had to be prepared.
Out of seemingly nowhere, a hand wrapped around his shoulder. He leaned in the opposite direction. It was time to go. He made the usual excuse of needing to use the bathroom, and escaped. A howl of displeasure at his departure sounded through the room, disgruntled old perverts laughing and yelling for him to “come back and have a little to drink”.
He slipped out of the room, coughing a bit. The smoke was probably going to kill him someday. Another flaw; intolerance to smoke. He probably had weak lungs. He stalked down the halls, his head slightly lowered as he pondered things about the way he lived.
His left the building, and got back into his car, shutting the door and leaning back in his seat, allowing the scent of brimstone to fill his car. The scent of marijuana and cigarettes eventually faded away, and he turned the ignition on his car. He pulled out of the sandy lot, and turned back down the road the way he had originally come.
He drove to the middle of the desert, where he was supposed to be, and parked his vehicle in the sand. He turned it off, and got out, watching as his chariot sank into the sand. His eyes were forlorn, a feeling of sadness in his heart.
Well, some of them, anyway.
Some woman, young, pretty… her red hair and green eyes were vibrant in the sunlight. He stared at her blankly, slightly startled by how she was talking to him. She looked worried, concerned, anything other than what he was used to.
“Sure,” He finally replied, a slight smile gracing his lips. She leaned over in her car, opening the door for him. He clambered into her truck, buckling himself into the front seat, as he knew he was supposed to.
“My name is Mary,” She said, “Where are you headed?”
He turned to face her, his expression blank for a moment. He smiled more broadly, “I’m Lucifer,” He answered, “I’m not heading anywhere.”
She chuckled as he told her his name, “There’s no better way to travel.”
Mary put her large Chevrolet into drive, and pressed on the gas precariously, so as to not jump them off at a bad start. Lucifer laughed outright, rolling down his window and staring out at the scenery as she began to drive, “Definitely.”
They pulled off into the approaching sunset, her bouncy red hair flying all around her head as she told him about her journey so far. He listened, intrigued by her stories of adventure. Unlike his brother, he did not know everything.
Lucifer pulled the ring off his pinky finger and threw it out the open window, watching through the rearview mirror as it bounced in the sand a couple of times.
The world was a mystery, and he wanted to see all of it, without any rules to hold him back. He would live sympathetically, love courteously, and laugh tastefully. He’d use all his well-learned politesse and he would lay no more souls to waste.
Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners Saints… As heads is tails, his name was Lucifer, and he was breaking free of his restraints.

Well, some of them anyway.