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Current name: Avi or Avian
Date of birth: May 3 1982
Sexual orientation: Homosexual, in a relationship with the mutant Livvy
Birth name: Avis Nightingale
Birth country: Italy
Birth Parents: Unknown
Weight : 120
Bio: Avi was abandoned by her birth parents due to her wings, which were jet black, alone and cold she was found on the door step of Saint Francis of Assisi Cathedral in Florence, Italy. She was taken from there to a local convent where she grew up under the watchful eyes of Sister Mary Catherine. When she turned eleven she began to notice that, among the other changes that puberty, she, unlike the other girls didn't like boys she liked girls. Thinking that something was wrong with her she went to go ask her mother figure Sister Mary Catherine to find out what was wrong. The sister listened but only for a short while, apparently by her standards God didn't love all of his chi
Hell hath no greater fury ch.1
It was two a.m. when, then eleven year old, Artemis Rose had found out she was a vampire.
What had woken her up was not the overwhelming thirst that had gripped her, but rather an excruciating pain that radiated throughout her frame. It had felt like someone was trying to rip out her spine. She had tried to get up she hadn't known why then and still doesn't know now and go to her step-brother's room, because his was the closest and have him call for help. She didn't even make it two feet from her bed when her wings finally broke through the skin. She screamed loud and long from the pain in her back and the pain in her mouth, she could feel her canines elongating and hollowing out. Everyone in her house save for herself slept like the dead, so it didn't surprise her that it had taken several agonizing minutes for anyone to rouse themselves and come to her aide. She had been curled up in the fetal position when her step-brother had come in. He
Seera's BodyAs I walked into the hospital I realised that this would be the last time Didge and I would be together like this. That fact alone scared us out of our wits because for our entire memorable lives we had been together and now we were going to be two separate people. She would now be a child in body and spirit and I would be a legal adult. I would no longer have to pretend that I was a child.
"Seera?" Artemis called snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Yes mom?" I replied letting her know that she had gotten my attention.
"It's time," She said holding out her hand.
I took a deep breath and, praying that I wasn't making the wrong decision, took her hand. We walked the halls of the living and the almost dead until we finally came to the room that Mary Noland, my body donor, now inhabited. Tubes and wires of all shapes and sizes twisted out of her like snakes until they made their way to the machines which currently kept her alive.
"Mr. and Mrs. Noland?" Artemis asked alerting Mary's parents to
Lost in...WALMART?!?!"Where the hell am I?" I asked, shaking myself off like a wet dog.
I stood up and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, what I beheld when they did adjust surprised me. I was in a store, Walmart to be exact.
"How did I get here?" I wondered.
"Good question," Came a female voice from behind me. The accent was English, probably somewhere near Scotland due to the brogue leaking through.
I turned around and nearly jumped out of my skin. The girl was Artemis Rose one of my numerous X-men OCs.
"What?" She asked cocking her head to the side slightly, "I promise I don't bite."
"Right!" I said with a nervous chuckle, hoping, praying that she wouldn't read my mind.
"You are one strange person you know that right?"
"Teach? Is that you?" Came the voice of Livvy.
"Yes, you shouldn't be too far off," Artemis replied
Livvy slowly inched forward one arm outstretched feeling for her teacher and friend. She ended up reaching me first. I gently put my hand on her arm so she knew I was there.
Words of WisdomIn life I have learned to make friends into family and protect them with your life,
if all of your friends think he/she is a jerk they're probably right,
be loyal until they are proven beyond a shadow of a doubt of treason,
if they lay a finger on you where it doesn't belong you have full right to leave them,
always be on high alert (you can never be too prepared),
never leave lethal weapons out in the open (duh),
don't eat the yellow snow, read a good book every now and then for the heck of it,
NEVER EVER EVER touch my family (I will have to hurt you, BADLY),
give good honest advice even if it hurts,
always run an FBI background check on all boyfriends/girlfriends that your little "sibs" have (just in case),
love and learn and thrive,
always try to keep your temper under control,
people are people NOT punching bags,
don't be afraid to call your friends at 2a.m., better they help you drop the pill bottle than you downing it,
keep your friends close but your enemies closer,
it's OK to g
Memories 6Azazel flicked his red tail back and forth irritably. He knew that he was being held in a mind prison, he also knew that there was no way out. He longed to bring ungodly pain upon the ones who held his tovarishchi3 and the angel girl hostage. Instead he stood there still as a statue, waiting for someone to distract the mind reader responsible.
"Azazel!" Danielle barked. Apparently, he had made her quite angry, because she had slipped into her thick un-Americanized German accent, "Did you even hear me?"
"Nyet, izvinite1," he had cursed himself for not allowing the mind reader that had offered to teach him complete English. He still slipped into his mother tongue when startled. This irritated him greatly, he never liked showing weakness.
"Someone got startled!" A familiar voice chuckled.
"Angyel dyevooshka2?" His jaw dropped and he was left staring at her in utter disbelief.
"Who else would it be?" she asked beaming at him.
"You were captured!" He knew this was a false reality, but some
Well Darn, There Goes My PlanFunny this life we live, there is so much more to see.
The heavens above, filled with no love,
The moon in the sky, larger then you or I.
Can't you see it, the size of it all?
We are ants infesting a house,
A flea eating a mouse.
Where will we be in a few hundred years?
Will we be in tiny boxes living useless fears?
Will we be in the ground, never to be found?
Will you be remembered, for who you use to be?
Perhaps by a few, but never truly by me,
For how am I to know, someone I've never seen?
Time has flown by, it's to late for you and me.
Why do you live, when time will soon blink,
and you will be gone, faster then you think?
SoledadI hope you know
That this is not funny
And that I'm breaking
I hope you are aware
Of how unfair this is
That I'm in so much misery
It hurts to even breathe
What were you thinking?
That you could disappear
And I wouldn't feel a thing?
Well I'm dying
Just so you know
You can't expect me to be fine
As I don't expect you to show up
Though that won't change the fact
That your disappearance hurts
Nobody wipes my tears
No one chases my doubts away
But even worse than that
No one holds me tight
Saying everything will be alright
What will become of me?
If I take a pencil,
It writes your name
As if it had a will of its own
If I go to sleep,
My mind summons your face
And you dance in my thoughts
For the rest of the day
Everything just everything
Reminds me of you
I can't keep living this way
Loving, Missing, Wanting You
Dark Days I"Hello?", called a voice distorted by speakers. It was framed by the noise of fast moving rotor blades, while some helicopters flew over the dark ruin of a city. They swept the surface with harsh white light. "Hello? Is there anybody?", the voice kept on calling tirelessly while blank carcasses of destroyed buildings towered as if they were seeking help. "Hello!" Nowhere was a single sign of life. The bright lights just discovered debris. "Hello?" The helicopters moved along slowly. No one of their crew knew, what lied quiet beneath the boulders. Between stones and cement metal trap doors were hidden. Entrances into an underground labyrinth made of countless hallways and rooms without windows. The walls were covered with colourfull graffiti, Forbidden graffiti. In one of the rooms was a group of five people. They gathered in front of a small rusty ladder beneath a slightly opened hatch and listened intensely into the darkness. No one dared to breath while the cold lights wandered over
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More