Wow. Haven't been on here in a while.
I come offering a reunion bit for a separation you didn't know existed.
It's short, 860 words at the most, and it might not make much sense, but hey, it's something, and it's Christian and Julian. So be happy.
Just know, that the would-be end of Addiction, Christian goes to rehab.
This is him coming home. :3

There might be typos and shit, but it's 4am, cut me some slack.

=

Julian sat there on the bench, wringing his hands together in his lap, watching as people walked past him and his brother as they waited. He tried desperatley to allow the noise of the airport’s traffic to drown out the sounds of his thoughts, but then—he never did have much luck with that sort of thing anyway.

“It’ll be fine.” Thomas told him calmly, his voice just under a normal volume, words meant for just his brother. He reached over, clasped his hand around Julian’s, gave it a quick squeeze, and released it. And then as if to reassure the statement, he nodded briefly, and flashed a smile.

“You sure?” Julian questioned anxiously. He swiped his tongue between his lips and sighed. He hadn’t seen Christian in months, eight months and three days to be exact. He was beginning to wonder how rehab had been for the other. Sure, he got a vague description in letters, but without Christian’s expressive face, he couldn’t be sure what was real, what was fabricated, and what was left out entirely.

Did he look any different now? Was his hair longer, did he cut it? Did he look healthier—less tired? Would he be as excited to see Julian, as Julian was to see him?

Julian shook his head, mentally berating himself for thinking like that. What—did he really believe that Christian would go to rehab and decide he didn’t love him anymore or something? That was ridiculous—crazy even. There was no way he would do that. Things like that just didn’t happen…did they?

“Relax.” Thomas’ voice had laughter in it as he noticed Julian frantically fidgeting once more. Julian let out yet another sigh, this one much more exaggerated, and slouched back against the wall.

“Thomas, I’m freaking out here. “

“So I’ve noticed.” He glanced forward, swiftly scanning the crowd, before looking over at his brother once more. “Here you are, being reunited with ‘the sunshine of your life,’” air quotes and all, that arrogant jerk, “and you’re acting like it’s the end of the world. Aren’t you happy he’s comin’ home?”

“Of course!” Julian replied defensively--and a bit too loudly. He flinched, glancing around him. He lowered his voice and furrowed his brows. “Of course I’m excited to see him. It’s just—it’s been so long, and so much has happened, and maybe things have happened that I don’t know about—and I’m imagining all these worst case scenarios and I—I…” He clamped his mouth shut over his ramble, his lips forming a deep-set frown. “I’m just—worried.”

“Well, don’t be.” He acted like that was the easiest solution in the world. He was so Zen about the entire ordeal, so calm and at ease—like this was just a trip to the market or something. Julian wrinkled his nose. Older brothers really sucked sometimes.

“It’s—not that easy.” He crossed his arms over his chest, burying himself deeper into his lime green hoodie. “How much longer ‘til his plane gets here anyhow?”

Thomas shrugged and squinted to read the text on the screen across the floor. “It’s a tad fuzzy, but I think it says the plane has arrived.” A grin tugged at his lips. He could see it just fine--but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to rile up his brother like this

“What!?” He exclaimed, bolting upright. There was a sharp jab in his heart as he looked at his brother, panic in his eyes. “Seriously?” He threaded his fingers through his hair almost immediately, unsure as to whether he should shake it up or smooth it down. He couldn’t think straight, every concern he possessed moments before increased tenfold. “Oh my God,” was the only other statement he could manage. Thomas chuckled in amusement.

He watched wordlessly as the younger pulled himself to his feet and began tugging at his clothing, no doubt making sure everything rested just so. His shoulders quaked with the ragged breaths he was taking in as he brought up his hands to run through his hair, fighting with seemingly every single strand to sit correctly. With every passing second that he didn’t see Christian, his heart paced a little faster. Faster, faster, faster--

Skip. Falter. Deep breath.

There he was, clear on the other side of the floor, his own blue eyes sifting through the very same crowd. He looked just as small and nervous as ever, but he stood up straighter than Julian ever remembered him standing. His hair was longer, styled in a controled mess, and he looked brighter.

Their eyes locked, and Julian couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over his face at that moment. They headed straight for each other, and it was all he could do not to pull some cheesy romance movie stunt and run toward him, hoist him into the air, spin him around, and kiss him senseless.

Instead, Julian kept his pace in check, allowing the other to do the rushing, and when they met in the middle, Christian threw his arms around Julian’s shoulders and just clung to him. Julian wrapped his arms around his waist, taking note of how less severe his angles seemed to be and thanked any God that existed for how healthy he looked. “I missed you.” Christian told him, his voice cracking, and Julian buried his nose in his hair, as his whole body shook.

“I missed you too,” he breathed. “So much, you don’t even know.”

From: http://community.livejournal.com/one_character/tag/prompts
I kind of cheated and mismatched the prompts. X3
I chose Julian. :] So far I have

Ohthis stuff is terrible.
02. It's just a beginning

Julian let out a low sigh, allowing his eyes to drift upward. Orange was starting to bleed into the white clouds, signaling the end of the day. He slumped back against the bench, dropping his head back.

It was the day after graduation. The end of school, the end of high school, the end of an era of sorts. No more teasing, no more insults--not that he got much of that, anyway. No more essays, no more homework--well, until college. Fewer late nights--fewer, because let's face it, it'd be a lie to think that Julian wasn't going to indulge in a few college parties.

But all of that also meant the end of him and Christian. Atleast for a while. Tomorrow Christian would be leaving for rehab, clear on the other side of the country. It had been a unanimous decision that he needed to be as far away from the east coast as possible. Unfortunately, that meant as far away from Julian as well. Had it been any other time, Julian would've suspected that that was what Allessia had intended--but Julian knew better than that, he knew that this was good for Christian.

No one was sure how long Christian would be gone--Julian just knew it would be too long, no matter what. How long he spent there really depended on him. They were going to send him to rehab, but it was up to Christian how long he'd be there and when he'd come home--if he came home.

Julian ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and shook his head. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think of the end--even if it--

Julian started in alarm, immediately shoving a hand into his pocket to recieve the vibrating cell phone, the ringtone sounding off loudly once out in the open. With his heart beating a pace or two faster, he flipped open the phone, eyed the number, and set the device to his ear. "Hey!" He breathed.

"Hey--got a minute?" Julian felt a smile overcome him at the sound of Christian's tentative voice on the other end.

But maybe this didn't have to be the end. Perhaps, it was just the beginning.

"For you? All the time in the world."

04. Silent Witness

The room was completely quiet except for the steady beeping coming from the machine next to Thomas' bed. Julian knew it was there to monitor his brother's heart rate, but sometimes it felt like it was monitoring his breathing. For every beep there was an exhale of relief; for every pause in between there was a painful intake of air in anticipation for the next beep. The action made his breathing a little irregular, made his head a little fuzzy, but there was nothing in his power that could make him cease the irrational behavior.

He was overreacting, he knew that. After all, his brother was only here, in this hospital, because of exhaustion (at least that's what the nurses had told him). There was nothing terribly wrong with him, but they kept him here to assure he would get the rest he needed and to keep an eye on him, just incase something negative did happen.

It had taken him only an hour to get used to the sterile smell that made his throat itch, a few minutes to convince the nurse to let him stay, three hours to encourage him to eat, and here he was six hours later, unable to tell himself that Thomas was fine, that he was going to be fine. No, every time he tried to tell himself that, there was a voice in the back of his mind telling him that if he was as fine as he wanted to believe he was, then why was he here?

Why was he stiffly placed on overused hospital mattress, covered with a stark white blanket that barely did it's job to keep him warm against the bitter temperature this goddamn place was kept at?

Julian slouched over his knees, burying his face in his hands. How could he have not known what his brother was doing to himself? Why hadn't he kept a better eye on him? Made sure he was sleeping as long as was considered healthy, eating at normal times--hell, taking his vitamins or something. Why hadn't he been doing a better job? Sure, Thomas was the one who was supposed to be the fatherly figure here, but who's to say that he shouldn't have someone watching over him as well? It was the least he could've done, kept an eye out for the one who made sure he was sleeping well, eating right, and taking his vitamins. He didn't even want to think about how selfish he must've been acting, thinking only of himself. They were a family, a small one, sure, but a family nonetheless. They had to look out for each other.

"I'm sorry." Julian managed, his voice sounding terribly loud and abrasive in the silence. He flinched, peering through his fingers at his brother's form.

There wasn't a shift, any movement, or even the slightest change in his breathing that indicated any disturbance at Julian's words.

Julian wasn't sure whether to be grateful, or worried at that knowledge.

He settled for slouching back in his chair and resolving to watch his brother like a hawk from then on.

This wasn't going to happen again. Not on his watch.

Sky's Heteroflexible?
http://karitenshi.deviantart.com/art/Obligation-Sky-cuddles-132047410

The statement, "Sky's straight when sober," coming back to bite me. lol


==

There was something on his face, he wasn't sure what exactly, but whatever it was, it was breathing. It was an obnoxious and messy sound, but it was breathing nonetheless. There was a distinct smell of alcohol mixed with coconut shampoo, and the feeling of warmth that only another human body could create. Stifling his yawn, Adam blinked his eyes open, forcing himself into a half-awake state to stare downward at a familiar mop of blond hair beside him.

Now Adam was positive Sky hadn't been there when he went to sleep, nor had he been curled up alongside him with an arm draped over Adam's midsection.

"Sky!" Adam cried out suddenly, shoving the younger teenager away, only to grab ahold of his wrist to prevent him from rolling off the edge of the bed. He ended up in a heap on the left side of Adam's mattress. Sky didn't give much of a reaction, merely stretched himself out and rolled over onto his stomach. His hand reached out for Adam's forearm, and attempted to tug him back down with him.

"Sky--" Adam pried the blond's hand away, and shook him. "Sky, what are you doing here?"

"Cold." He muttered, burying his face in the warm blanket, settling for curling back up when Adam stayed rooted where he was.

Well, of course he was cold, it was mid-October, and--Adam glanced at his clock...three in the morning. Why was he even out this late--let alone in his bed?

"I get that, but why are you--" He trailed off, remembering the smell from only moments before. "Are you drunk?" He hissed, grabbing the sides of Sky's face. In return, Sky gazed at him from underneath heavy eyelids and grinned mischieviously.

"Perhaps---Want to take advantage of me?" He questioned, with a failed attempt at sounding suggestive. However, with the way his words slurred together, he only succeeded in sounding pathetic and--well--drunk.

"Guh, Sky, disgusting." Adam pulled a pillow from behind him, and covered Sky's head with it, toying with the idea of just smothering him. It was too late--early?--to be dealing with this shit right now.

And if he didn't get this taken care of now, Kaitlynn would--

Adam was pulled from his thoughts by a pair of tan arms winding their way around his waist. Sky pressed his face into Adam's side and made to fall back asleep.

"My God, Sky, c'mon, man, this isn't cool." Adam muttered, raising his arms up, away from the blond. The other boy replied with a simple cat-like nuzzle. Adam groaned and dropped his arms back now. Now what was he going to do?  He didn't want to--Adam mentally cringed--cuddle his best friend. That was just weird. He shook the idea out of his head.

Adam stretched his arm out, then proceeded to tug at Sky's cheek, much to the other teen's distaste.

"Mmff, Stoppit." Sky grumbled, lazily waving a hand at Adam, burying his cheek in his shirt.

"Goddamnit, Sky." Adam growled, fighting the urge to pry the boy off of him and shove him off the bed. "How much did you have to drink?"

Sky was quiet for a moment, which---wasn't a good sign.

"One...?" He managed, glancing up at Adam with one eye. Adam rolled his eyes.

"And how big was that....one?"

"Uh..." Sky detangled himself from the brunet and pushed off his thigh to settle himself back into a slouched sitting position. He raised his hand to gesture the size of the cup. "About this big?" But his hands were swaying too much to make an accurate assessment. Regardless, it was pretty safe to say that Sky was drunk, he was questionable, and he was going to be a royal bastard in the morning.

Fantastic.

"How did you get here?" Adam asked then, concerned for whoever Sky might've encountered on the way here. He knew Sky knew better than to drive under the influence--but here he sat, so....

"I walked, slowly, and I--yeah. Walked." The blond replied, covering his eyes with his palm, swaying a bit.

Well, thank God he didn't drive here.

"Well, atleast you haven't gone completely nuts." Adam told him, a scold ready on his tongue. Sky tipped sideways, crashing, rather ungracefully, onto Adam's pillow, and curled up again. "You better not throw up on my bed." Adam warned, abandoning his previous argument. Sky nodded absently, closing his eyes.

Adam let out a low sigh, and after a moment settled onto his back. Perhaps there was a chance of salvaging what was left of his sleep for the night.

Thus, he found himself too tired to care when Sky found his way to his side of the bed again moments later, even though he knew Kaitlynn would have a field day with this one if she found them like this.

50 themes. One sentence each. AixKenta
Status: Not completed. This is just what I have so far.

-

#01 - Comfort
She refuses to admit just how comforting his arm around her shoulders actually is, and instead pulls herself away with a characteristic scowl planted firmly on her face.

#02 - Kiss

#03 - Soft
When he sets his hand on her shoulder, he tries not to think about how soft the hair trapped underneath his hand is.

#04 - Pain
He pretends not to notice how badly she's hurting, while she pretends she's better at hiding it than she really is.

#05 - Potatoes
It's days like this where all Ai can do is awkwardly stab at her mashed potatoes with her fork and pretend like she can't feel Kenta's gaze on the back of her head every five minutes.
 
#06 - Rain
He wants to ask how she can be so sure when she glances up at the sky and tells him it's going to rain, but he knows better.

#07 - Chocolate
Every Valentine's day, her locker is stuffed full of chocolates and flowers, but what makes this year different is the mangled rose that she picks out, and gently tucks away in her bag before clearing out the rest of her locker into a trashcan.

#08 - Happiness
He's his happiest when she's around--though nobody can understand why, what with that scowl that appears to be permanently attached to her face.

#09 - Telephone
She has no idea how he got her number, but she knows better than to question it.

#10 - Ears

#11 - Name
She finds herself staring at the mirror sometimes wondering how the hell she, of all people, could have a name that meant 'love' when she despised everything about it.

<strike>#12 - Sensual </strike>

#13 - Death

<strike>#14 - Sex </strike>

#15 - Touch

#16 - Weakness
Ai prides herself in having few weaknesses, but they are big weaknesses, and she'll die before she admits that he is one <i>massive</i> weakness.

#17 - Tears
The first time she had cried in three years, and he saw every moment of it.

#18 - Speed

#19 - Wind
It's hard not to watch as the wind brushes through her hair, sweeping her bangs away, exposing her clouded blue eyes.

#20 - Freedom
When her father dies, it's accompanied with a foreign sense of freedom that everyone feels but no one it up.

#21 - Life
When she left, he tried to tell himself to move on with his life, he really did, but without her there, it really didn't feel like much of a life at all.

#22 - Jealousy
She's not jealous about all the attention he's been getting lately--that would be ridiculous.

#23 - Hands
Sometimes Kenta will put his hand over Ai's in an expression of comfort, and she will have to fight the natural instinct to pull her hand away like it's been burned.

#24 - Taste
The taste of curry reminds him of her, and it burns all the way down.

#25 - Devotion
Everyone knows that boy is utterly devoted to her--she doesn't believe she deserves it.

#26 - Forever
The most convincing argument against their relationship to date was presented by none other than Tai himself; she was going to live forever--Kenta wasn't.

#27 - Blood
There's blood seeping through the bandages, they can both see it, but she's quick to cover it with her palm and change the subject, distancing herself from him once again. 

#28 - Sickness

#29 - Melody

#30 - Star

#31 - Home

#32 - Confusion

#33 - Fear

#34 - Lightning/Thunder

#35 - Bonds

#36 - Market

#37 - Technology

#38 - Gift

#39 - Smile

#40 - Innocence

#41 - Completion

#42 - Clouds

#43 - Sky

#44 - Heaven

#45 - Hell

#46 - Sun

#47 - Moon

#48 - Waves

#49 - Hair

#50 - Supernova
This relationship they have is delicate, fragile, and she knows if she's not careful it will implode in on itself and she's not sure she'd be able to handle that. 

 

Brittle requested something for Julian's first crush. She wanted something silly and fun.
Unfortunately, I fail at the silly. So here's something kind of sad about Julian's first crush.
Written two different ways. One more reminiscent. The other a direct scene from the aftermath...
Warning: Stupid moms. -shakes finger-

I kind of think it's rubbish...so be merciful.

==
If asked, Julian could easily remember his first crush. Well--his first crush on a boy, anyway. ['Cause let's face it, he was a little boy--he thought he liked everyone at one point.]

His name had been Daniel--well, he went by Danny, but Julian had always insisted on calling him Daniel. They were best friends back in the first grade. You know the kind. The kind that always stuck together, that terrorized the girls together, ran around, and crashed at each other's houses whenever they could. The kind of best friends that were infinitely inseperable. The kind that seemingly no one could break apart.

That changed the next year.

He hadn't know what had given him the idea to do so, or what prompted the act, [though he had a thought that perhaps it was seeing Thomas with his girlfriend at the time], but he remembered kissing Daniel. Nothing bad. Just a quick, friendly peck on the cheek. Daniel himself hadn't seemed to care much--if only a little confused by the action--but his mother had noticed. Julian never understood until much later in life why she started screaming and immediately pulled Julian away by the collar of his shirt. She had called his brother, and demanded he come pick Julian up that instant. Daniel and Julian had sat on the stairs listening as Thomas and Daniel's mother yelled from the other room. As far as he could tell, Thomas had defended him. But Julian had never thought to press the issue or ask.
 
They weren't friends after that. The following Monday it had been made clear that Daniel wasn't allowed to talk to him anymore, and though he seemed to regret it for a few weeks, Daniel made no effort to defy his mother.

Even in high school they never really interacted. Perhaps a few times sophomore year when they had the brilliant idea to fool around. But even that had been short lived and ended badly. Daniel became the cool kid on the lacrosse team with a cute, albeit a bit average, girlfriend, and Julian was the kid with the rainbow bracelet who hopped from one social circle to the next. There were ocassional glances from across the hall, a look of regret vs one of indifference, and nothing else.

However, Julian was sure, the day he passed Daniel in the hall--holding Christian's hand for everyone to see--he was almost certain he saw a glimmer of jealousy and disbelief in Daniel's eyes.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't secretly enjoyed it.

 

==Scene==
Julian and Daniel sat there on the top step of the stairs, close together, their small shoulders shoved together. Daniel's blue eyes were trained on a speck of dirt on the step a couple below him, and Julian's eyes flickered from the step, to the railing, to door leading into the kitchen, and back again.

"I think you're overreacting just a --" Thomas' voice rang out, quiet and unsure, and Julian could almost see the older boy's hands raised high in front of him, a defensive gesture he had the habit of performing in front of adults. Julian's knuckles brushed against Daniel's for a brief moment as Julian brought his palms together in between his knees. He pretended not to notice the other boy's flinch.

"I'm overreacting?" Daniel's mother screeched back. "I'M overreacting?"

"I'm sorry." Julian replied meekly drowning out the sound of Thomas' reply, lowering his gaze guiltily. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble." And he meant it. He didn't know what the big deal was. He didn't know what was so wrong about a kiss on the cheek. He'd seen plenty of people do it--nobody ever yelled at them. Why did he always get in trouble for things?

"It's okay." Daniel replied shakily, shifting uncomfortably, his shoulder knocking against Julian's. "I--"

There was a crash as the kitchen door slammed open, the sound of heavy footsteps, quiet protests and suddenly Daniel's furious mother appeared just at the foot of the stairs. "Daniel Jonathan Roseburg. Room. Now!" She demanded then, ushering her hand forward. Panic jolted through both of the boys as Daniel shot to his feet immediately, his spine painfully straight. He sent a fleeting glance to Julian, then shot up the stairs. Julian felt his shoulder sink a fraction as he glanced back at Thomas and Daniel's mother. Their faces held opposite expressions, Thomas' was a mixture of tension and fatigue, mouth downturned slightly on one side, Daniel's mother's was more contorted and angry, her eyes narrowed, and lips pressed together tightly. Julian flinched as her eyes locked on him. He just didn't get it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thomas extended a hand toward him, and ushered him down the stairs. "C'mon, Jules, we need to leave." Julian hopped down the stairs as quickly as he could, and latched onto Thomas' hand, twisting himself so he was as far away from the woman as possible. With a sigh, Thomas pulled him along out the door, gritting his teeth as Daniel's mother called something after them. Julian failed to understand what she had said though, and Thomas never told him.

Chapter Three

            Devet let out a long sigh as he forced himself up the stairs to his room, his conversation with Koanis weighing heavily on his muscles. He was starting to think it probably would’ve been better had he not said anything about the journal to Koanis.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t just starting to think it.

He pushed through his bedroom door, closed and locked it behind him. He sucked in a breath and dropped himself onto his bed. He reached under his mattress, pulling out his brother’s journal from its hiding place. His eyes scanned the cover, wary of its contents. The whole town knew his brother’s reputation—it was pretty obvious what Koanis thought. Devet knew what the journal contained. And despite that, he was still anxious about whatever he’d read. One, it was his brother’s journal, these were his words, his thoughts—and two, how would Devet respond to the words? Would he lose any respect for his brother after being exposed to his ludicrous theories? Would he end up like the townspeople, scorning the essence of his brother’s memory? And perhaps worst of his fears—would he believe? Would he become just like his brother?

Devet clenched his eyes shut and set the journal down beside him. He crossed his legs in front of him and buried his face in his hands. How could his brother leave this to him? How could he expect him to finish what Taeo started when Devet himself wasn’t even sure how he was going to react? He peered at the journal through his fingers. This was ridiculous. He swallowed his heart, and pulled the journal into his hands again. He inhaled, flipped to a random page, and began reading.

<Maiz 32^nd

Today was my first day back at church after being sick for a while. Naturally, I’ve had plenty of time to rethink my beliefs about the power of the church. I mean--I already had my suspicions, but I guess sitting at home for hours at a time makes you wonder about everything. And I assure you, my mind wanders quite a bit, and I’ve thought about every aspect. Like for one—who determines who becomes the ‘spokesperson’ for this so-called puppeteer, exactly? Does the puppeteer appoint this person? Like—does the puppeteer come to them in their dreams or something and go, ‘Hey, you will speak for me.’ Seriously? I don’t think so. Perhaps there have been leaders that just decided that they wanted to run things, so they come up with the idea to lie to people and tell them that they were spoken to directly by the puppeteer. It makes sense—what proof do we have otherwise? Just one ‘holy man’s’ word. And that’s it. Hardly rock solid evidence.

And even then, why are their words law? Is it really the puppeteers will? Like, for instance, this idea that the puppeteer created us to be the best looking creatures that he could. Naturally, he wouldn’t want us to mar our perfect image? But don’t we have that decision? >

                Devet paused and glanced upward into the mirror across his room. He stared at his appearance in the reflection for a long moment. He dragged his gaze across his shaggy raven hair as it hung in his eyes. It was in that moment that he decided to test his brother’s theory.

                He shoved himself off his bed and made his way across the room. He sifted through his drawers in a sudden frenzy, sorting through the clothing and blankets for one thing—

                Scissors.

                “Ah-ha!” he exclaimed, latching onto the silver handles. Devet set himself in front of the mirror and stared hard at his reflection. He paused, telling himself to think about what he was doing—and if it was a good idea.

Of course it wasn’t, but that wasn’t going to stop him now.

He gave his head a shake and held the scissors up to his hair. He grabbed a chunk, held his breath, closed his eyes, and with a painful hesitation closed the silver blades around the dark hair. The hair disconnected as he willed it and fell to the floor. Then once more. And again.

                With a painful gasp for breath, Devet’s eyes snapped open and the scissors fell to the floor with a harsh thud. He stared at his reflection—half of his hair remained the same length—but the other half didn’t fair quite as well. The other side now hung about half its previous length, and choppy. Splendid, now he looked like a freak. But wait—

                Taeo’s theory! That was it all along.

                Devet slammed both of his palms down on the surface of his chestnut dresser drawing himself closer to the glass. He analyzed, with wide eyes, the jagged and uneven locks. He successfully marred his appearance, something that proved the church wrong. Sure it was only one happening and seemingly insignificant, but regardless—his brother was right!

                He covered the top of his head with his hands and drew back from the mirror. That was only one theory, though. In its entirety it didn’t prove that much, but it was a start. Devet shook his head, distraught at the difference such a small action had created. Did that mean he believed? Maybe it was too soon to tell?

                In one swift movement, he collapsed onto his bed, tangling his fingers in his hair, and curled up on his side. He noted that his nerves were now trembling, and dismissed it immediately as a ridiculous reaction. It was only one theory. Perhaps it was only a hoax—a fluke. Still—he couldn’t help but think the integrity of everything he’d been raised to believe was in jeopardy.

                He took one more deep breath, relaxing his limbs. He made another decision then, that there was only one thing he could do to ease his mind.

                He’d have to test his brother’s theories.

Finally. I all but puked this up. D:
2, 117 words. Probably really shitty.
I personally hate it. X]
I think Devet has personality issues. Maybe that's just me?

The rest of the chapters will be better--I promise. [Hopefully]

==

Chapter Two

                The marketplace was the center of the universe for the town of Kenser. It was the center of commerce for the entire town. Most of the citizens spent their time either selling, buying, or delivering various foods, clothing, or tools. There were three different paths running north to south through the marketplace and they all intersected at different areas. Multi-colored booths lined the roads and each one held different goods. People were calling out for sales and offers, advertising their fresh vegetables and other prime merchandise.

                Even with the constant chatter and the yelling, Devet could still hear the hushed whispers about his brother. There was no doubt as to what they were talking about and there was no doubt that they were staring at him. He could feel their gaze on the back of his neck as he walked by.

                Well, this was awkward.

                Devet never really liked the marketplace, it was always too busy and noisy. Devet usually liked to keep to himself. Keep quiet, away from other people. Here, it was rather difficult. To make it even worse—amongst all of the pressure, he had a terrible time saying no.

                “Hey, hey, young man! You look like the kind of kid who would be interested in a—“

                “Not a chance.” Devet shot back, snappishly, not even giving the merchant a chance to identify his product. Okay, so perhaps he didn’t have that much trouble with saying no. They didn’t exactly make it hard.

                Devet scowled to himself as he made his way down the path, keeping his eyes open for the vegetable stand—careful not to run into anyone else around him. Though it wasn’t an entirely simple task to tangle your threads with another puppet—it was something Devet liked to avoid.  Call it a phobia of his.

                He couldn’t help but feel bitter and angry that Taeo had left this obnoxious [but simple] task for him to do. There was a reason this had always been Taeo’s job. Devet couldn’t handle crowds and he definitely could not deal with the children running amuck around him. He prided himself in being a typically calm person, but crowds like this made him nervous.

                He stopped dead in his tracks suddenly, irritable and thoroughly lost. Now he knew that the vegetable stand used to be in the area in which he stood, but at this very moment in time it was nowhere to be seen. He was either lost—or it had just…moved. His frown seeped further into his brows as he stood there and let his shoulders slump. This just wasn’t going to end well, he could tell already.

                “E’cuse me, son. Might you be lost?” Devet stiffened and turned around, brows furrowed.

                “Pardon?” It was an old man, a smile etched into his wrinkles. He was stout, and heavy in the shoulders. There was an obnoxious shine to his bald head that made Devet cringe a bit. The old man gave a hapless shrug.

                “You appear lost.” He rephrased. “Might you be?”

                Devet’s initial reaction was to tell the man that, no, he was not lost, that he was just taking a break and could find the location on his own. However, the longer he stood there, the weaker his resolve became. He told himself that if he wanted to get out of the marketplace as quickly as he wished, he’d have to accept help. He glanced over at the smiling man, trying to hold back a wince.

                Even if the help did come from a creepy old man.

                So Devet plastered on a fake smile and all but spit out the words. “Yeah, I guess I am a little bit lost.” The old man copied his expression but with more enthusiasm.

                “What would you be in search of?” Why did he talk like that? Devet shook his head, and gave a half shrug.

                “I uh…” Now he couldn’t even remember the name of the stand. “I think it’s the Tof Vegetable Stand?”

                “Ah!” The man exclaimed, jabbing a skeletal finger into the air in recognition. “I can sympathize with your troubles, young man. Most likely, due to the fact that they relocated just a week ago.” Devet deadpanned. Of course, that would only make sense. The old man waved his open palm out and swept it toward himself. “I shall locate the stand you seek.” Okay, now his speech was getting irritating.

                Devet didn’t really want to follow this old man, his eagerness worried him and perhaps creeped him out a bit. However, like mentioned previously, he really didn’t want to be left to wander the marketplace all day. So he sucked it up and followed the man as he weaved through the crowd.             

                On the bright side, this eliminated the effort and the risk of any more undesirable encounters.

                “Aha! Here we are.” The old man called out cheerfully, pulling Devet out of his thoughts. He slammed his hand on Devet’s shoulder and gave him a good shake. “There you go, sonny, good luck with the rest of your future voyages.” He grinned widely, slipping his hand off, and hobbled down the laid-brick road and back into the crowd. Devet raised a brow.

                “What the—“he muttered, staring after the man, his face contorted, clearly depicting his uneasiness.

                “Ah, don’t mind him, darlin’, he just has a few knots loose.” He turned to see an older woman behind the vegetable stand, propping her head up on the edge of the display. She grinned, tucking a lock of flaming red hair behind her ear. It took her a moment, but her eyes widened in surprise the second she recognized him. “Devvie! I haven’t seen you in so long!” she exclaimed, delight lighting up her already brilliant green eyes. It took Devet only a second to identify her as well.

                This was Mana, Koanis’—his best friend—mother. He saw Koanis regularly—well, not since Taeo’s death—but his mother was usually here, at the marketplace, so they never saw each other. It must’ve been at least three months since the last time they saw each other.

                “How’s your mother sweetie? She holdin’ up? Goodness, it must be so hard without your brother. Sure, he had his problems, but he was a good kid. Ahh, tragic when one loses a son—or a brother.” She paused, looking surprised. “Oh! Goodness, I’m rambling. Sorry, dear.” She chuckled to herself, and twirled herself out from behind the display of vegetables, not even giving Devet a chance to speak, despite his attempts to even open his mouth.

                “What can I get you?” She questioned, brushing the hair out of his face.

                He pulled away, with an awkward smile and shrugged. “Uh—I—“

--

                Devet grumbled to himself, shifting every so often the large canvas bag in his arms. Mana got a little carried away with picking out the vegetables, as she talked on and on about his mother and how terrible everything must be. She thought that she’d help them out—show her sympathy—by loading them with all the vegetables she could supply. While he was sure his mother would appreciate the sentiment, he wasn’t even sure most of the food would make it home safely, what with the way they threatened to spill over onto the road. The bag was so large, Devet found himself craning his neck around the bag just to see where he was going.

Unfortunately, that was a bit harder than one would expect.

As Devet rounded a corner, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps. Immediately following the sound was the pressure of a collision, sending him to the ground and his vegetables rolling around on the road. He let out a grunt, and rolled over onto his back, wondering what—or who—had run into him.

“Ah! I’m sorry!” the figure exclaimed, holding out his hand. His body flinched with recognition—a lot of that seemed to be happening lately. “Dev!”

 Devet pushed himself up to rest on his elbows and looked up. “Oh, Koa!”

The aforementioned best friend stood there before him, a mischievous grin plastered on his face, enthusiasm shining in his emerald eyes. He shook his flaming red hair away from his face and waggled his fingers in front of him, beckoning Devet to grab a hold.

Grabbing his friend’s hand, he pulled himself upward to his feet, and with an awkward acknowledgement and a mumbled thanks, Devet began picking up his abandoned vegetables. Koanis picked up the bag, and set it up near Devet, knelt down, and busied himself with helping clean up.

“So how’ve you been?” Koanis asked then, watching as Devet straightened up and dusted himself off before he got to his feet as well. “D’you lock yourself in your house? It’s been a few days since I’ve seen any trace of you.” Eight days, to be exact.

“I’ve been okay.” Devet replied, shrugging lopsidedly as he hoisted up the bag. “Just taking care of the house, and stuff. Mom’s been kind of a mess.” He began walking, with Koanis trailing along beside him. “Just today—she started acting normal again. She even made breakfast.” He shifted the weight of the bag again, cursing as a pepper rolled straight off the top. Koanis stooped low, picking it up.

“Oh really?” The red-head managed, tossing the pepper from one hand to the other.

“Yeah, it was pretty gross.” Devet added faintly, with a faint chuckle. His lips quivered upward into a faint awkward smile at the memory of that morning. His mother never was that great of a cook to begin with, but that morning was almost significantly worse than any other. Koanis laughed as well.

“At least things are starting to get back to normal, right?”

“I guess so. It’s just so quiet now.” Devet replied, kicking a small pebble out of his path. “Mom
and I keep arguing. She keeps wanting to talk—and I’d rather just leave it alone. Y’know? Forget about it.” Koanis glanced over at his friend, mute concern flickering across his features. “There’s just some things I can’t tell her about. And she won’t leave it alone.”

Koanis furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

Devet let out a breath and stopped walking. He glanced at Koanis out of the corner of his eyes, tentatively deciding if he could even talk to Koanis about it. “Like—Taeo’s journal. He left it to me.” Koanis didn’t get it—what what so special about that?

                “It had…his theories, y’know?” He lowered his eyes.

                Koanis frowned suddenly, and Devet knew why. Koanis could never stand Taeo—especially with his “nonsense” and vocal distaste for the puppeteer. Koanis was a believer. He was more than just a believer; he was a follower. He followed all of the rules to the letter, and listened to everything the church told him. Naturally, he hated Taeo, and everyone like him.

                And that fact—made the conversation much harder.

                “Like what kind of theories?” Koanis questioned, playing dumb, despite the tension in his jaw.

                Devet shrugged idly, not reacting as a tomato rolled off. “I don’t know.” His voice was small, almost ashamed. “I haven’t really read much of it.” Or any of it that wasn’t the suicide note, to be honest.

                “I wouldn’t.” Koanis quickly, easing the severity of his tone with a similar shrug.

                “Why?”

                “It’s only going to get you in trouble, Dev. Besides—“His voice took an edge. “—your brother’s theories were ridiculous anyway. None of them could possibly be true.” Devet frowned.

                “How do you mean?”

                “Your brother was sick.” But he didn’t say it meanly—just in that same faux sympathetic tone that the other townspeople would hold when speaking to him. They spoke as if they were speaking to a small child who didn’t understand his brother’s ‘condition.’ As if he was crazy. In a sense it was condescending, but wasn’t meant to be. Koanis sighed. “Just—pay attention in church for once. You’ll see.” Koanis then glanced over his shoulder at the marketplace in the distance. “Ah—I need to get back.” He set a firm hand on Devet’s should. “Think about what I said. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

                Devet nodded, and watched silently as Koanis dashed back into the crowd again. He shifted the weight of the bag once more, grimacing at the ache in his sore arm muscles.

                Who was he going to listen to now? Koanis or his brother? He sighed

                Despite the thought, as yet another pepper fell to its death, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d get back home with the rest of the vegetables in good condition.

I started this month thing.
Where every month I described something that happened.
But I got stuck. D:


69. Months of the Year.

January. They spent New Years Eve together, playing video games until well past midnight. Kaitlynn had been more than a little annoyed that they had missed watching the ball drop. Sky made a promise that one day, they'd all make the trip--and they'd see it in person. After all, it was only a few hours away.

They never did.

February. Valentine's Day, Adam, Kaitlynn, and Sky spent the night before in the hallways of the school, filling lockers with made up love letters and secret admirer messages. Sky had placed one in Kaitlynn's locker when she wasn't looking. He told himself that some day--before the end of the year, he'd tell her that it was him, and he'd tell her how he really felt.

He didn't.

March. Sky had been fond of snowball fights. And then the coldest day of the month came along. Sky broke Adam's nose with a snowball that had a ice-to-snow ratio of about 10-2. He apologized and swore he'd never do it again. The next time, Kaitlynn had a bruise on her arm the size of a golfball.

But it was okay, because he had a black eye.

April.

May
June.
July.

August.

September. After school one day, Kaitlynn and Sky made a pact that if neither of them found dates to prom--they'd be each others.

Kaitlynn didn't go.

October.

November. They spent Thanksgiving with Sky and his family. It was the closest thing Kaitlynn and Adam had to a family get-together. They had taken their time listing off everything they were thankful for. Sky's mother was thankful for everyone's health [amongst a million other things.]
Sky made sure to let them know that they were definitely coming to next year's Thanksgiving as well.

They spent it alone.

December. He was gone. Kaitlynn spent his funeral thinking of every promise he had ever made, and every promise he had broken. Adam sat at home, sick and in denial.

And then he came along.

Well. One Sky. lol.

Something I started, and forced myself to finish. Blah. I so fail at writing lately.
Not very long.

66. Sunrise.

 In her half-asleep state, she was aware that the door was being opened, and that someone was trying to tip-toe in. She was also aware that the invader just never got the message that she could tell people by the sound of their footsteps. "Sky. Get the hell out of my room." She commanded, burying her face in her pillow. 

 "How'd you even know it was me?" He questioned, his voice now coming from her beside. She peered over the fluff of her pillow and glared. 

 "Must we go over this everytime?" Sky just sort of smiled in response. She groaned, and shoved her hand at him. "Go away." There was silence for a moment, but Sky didn't move. With a sigh, she raised her head to look at the clock. 

 6:30 am. 

 "Go awayyy." She whined, pulling the blanket over her head. 

 "Kaitlynnnn, come onn. I want to show you something." Sky whined back, tugging at the blanket. 

 "Show me in three hours."

 "But it won't be there in three hours!" 

 "Oh my god, Fine!" She snapped, shoving back her blankets and got out of her bed. 

 Sky grabbed her wrist, and dragged her outside onto her driveway and gestured up at the horizon before them. Kaitlynn looked at him
skeptically then up at the sky. It was just the sunrise...

 But no, this one was different. 

 Usually, the sky held a cloudy fog, mucking up the colors, but this morning the smog seemed restricted. Purples, red, and oranges shone
brilliantly, melting together easily and comfortably. The colors spread themselves across the sky like a blanket. 

 Like the blanket Kaitlynn was torn from. 

 "Sky..."

 "It was better than this earlier..." Sky told her, shrugging. He looked over at her and grinned lopsidedly. "But you wouldn't wake up." He
laughed and shook his head. "I just thought you might appreciate it. The colors, I mean. That's all."

 "Yeah..." She said quietly, nodding, and glanced back at the horizon. "I do." Her gaze flickered back to Sky again. "Thanks." He didn't look at
her right away, but allowed himself to smile before his eyes drifted over to her. 

 "No problem. Anytime."

Everyone was doing it on myspace. So I did it. Then decided to try it out on these guys. :3



Pick 9 random people you feel comfortable around want to write about. :]

Kaitlynn
Adam
Tristan
Brendon
Seanna
Aidan
Sky
Adrian
[And there isn't a ninth. D:]

These nine people you just picked are stuck in a house with you for a whole year. There is no leaving the house at all until the year is completely up. If you had to choose a person for every question below, write down which person it would be.

There are five rooms, who would be in each room

Room 1- Adam, and Sky
Room 2- Brendon and Adrian
Room 3- Kaitlynn
Room 4- Seanna and Aidan
Room 5- Tristan [Because Adam wouldn't let him be in the same room as Kaitlynn.]


If there was someone singing in the morning who would it most likely be?
Seanna. Or Brendon.

If someone was considered the dad and the mom of the house, who would it be?
lol. I could see Tristan being the 'dad' and totally not being happy about it.

If someone wanted candy really badly and all of the 9 in the house had some, who would they take it from?
Seanna, 'cause she's nice enough to share.

If two people were caught making out in a closet who would it be?
I'm not even going to answer that.

If someone had to watch you brush your teeth (every) morning, who would it be?
--

There was two bags of chips bought at the store, but 20 minutes later they are gone.
Who ate them?
Brendon or Sky, they eat   A LOT.
Maybe Seanna would've helped.

Who would hate being in the house the most ?
Tristan. It's not even a competition.

Someone swept all the dirt under the rug, who was it?
Brendon. He's lazy.

If there was arguments in the house, who would be the ones arguing?
One sided arguments of Sky/Brendon against Tristan.

Who would be the one missing his or her boyfriend/girlfriend that wasn’t in the house with them?
Adrian. Who locks himself in the bathroom to call Samantha and beg her to find a way to get him out of there.

You walked down stairs in the middle of the night for a glass of water, someone is dancing on the table , who is the crazy one?
Probably Brendon or Sky out of a bet.

A pillow fight broke through, who started it?
Sky, and he hit Adrian, demanding that he stop whining right that second. Adrian then reacted by smacking Sky, missing him and hitting Brendon who then promptly punched him in the face because he wasn't sure who had done it.

Theres a marathon of someone's favorite tv show, what is it? and who would be watching it with them?
Kaitlynn would be watching House/Good Eats. And Tristan would probably, to be nice. And Adam 'cause he likes those shows too.

Someone made a fort in the laundry room, who was the kid?
Adam and Brendon 'cause they wanted to play poker, and they needed the right atmosphere.

There’s a prankster in the house that put plastic on the two toilets in the house, who are the pranksters?
Brendon. Did you have to ask?

The music's too loud, who turned it up?
Adam, Brendon, or Adrian.

There's a mouse crawling on the floor all over the house,
a)Who is the first one to scream? Kaitlynn.
b)and who is the one to jump in someones arms? Seanna into Aidan's.
c)Who would be the one to kill it? Probably Tristan [but he'd probably just trap it and put it outside] because he's obviously the bravest one there.

Someones crying, who is it and what happened?
Seanna probably. Probably a sad movie.

Who made pancakes in the morning and almost caught the house on fire?
Aidan or Seanna. XD

Who gets sick of each other the fastest in the house?
Tristan and pretty much anyone who isn't Kaitlynn, Adam or Aidan[because they'd avoid each other].

Someones tanning on the roof who is it?
Seanna.

Who is the tallest in the house?
Adrian, then Tristan.

Who is the shortest in the house?
Seanna

Who is the loudest?
Sky

Who is the clown?
Brendon

Who is the most respectful?
Tristan, probably.

Who is the one that always comes up with stupid ideas?
Adam and Sky

Who's in bed first?
No idea.

If someone woke everyone up with pots and pans who would it be?
lol. One of the trouble making boys.

Who is always dancing?
Depends.

You spilt ice all over the kitchen floor, who would be the one to slip on it first?
-shrug-
 

                His footsteps were barely audible on the reflective hallway floors, but Kaitlynn could hear them clear as day. "Skipping class again?" she questioned, not even bothering to turn around to actually see who it was.

                "How did you even know who it was? Eyes in the back of your head?"  Sky replied, coming into her field of vision now. His body twisted sideways to lean against the lockers next to hers.  She shrugged idly, glancing sideways for a moment, before looking back at him, dropping the original subject.

                "You make those flip-flop noises when you walk, because you drag your feet. And Adam's wearing sneakers today, so he usually squeaks when he walks. Seanna tends to make clicking sounds when she walks, since she wears flats and heels all the time anyway." Her aqua eyes were sideways again by the time she finished talking, and now Sky shifted his gaze to where she was looking. His face dropped irritably. Tristan. He should've known.

                He made some sort of growling noise under his breath, and looked back at her. "Oh yeah, so what noises do his shoes make?" Kaitlynn winced at the tone of his voice and snapped her gaze back to her locker.

                "They--don't make any noise." She replied tensely, pulling out a book from her locker and slamming it shut. Sky scoffed and crossed his arms with a roll of his eyes.

                "Right." The silence settled only for a few moments before Kaitlynn cleared her throat, and brought her books close to her chest, focusing her attention on him.            

                "Heyy, guys~ What's all the tension over here?" Adam asked enthusiastically, draping a sleeved arm across Kaitlynn's shoulders.

                "Nothing really," Sky replied, unenthused. "Kaitlynn's just ogling the bastard again." Kaitlynn pressed her lips together and glared hard at him. Couldn't he go through one day without bad-mouthing him? He's gotten himself caught on several occasions already. Hell, he should be grateful he hasn't ended up in a trash can by now. But no, he keeps on going.

                "Oh, really?" Adam sounded amused.

                “I was not.” Kaitlynn protested weakly.

                "Yeah, really. I don't see why though. He's an asshole."

                "Oh, grow up, Sky, honestly." Kaitlynn snapped, shoving Adam's arm away from her. She gave Sky one last look, then looked back at Adam, "I'll be in the car," and stormed off. Adam sighed, and sent Sky a look.

                "C'mon, dude, leave her alone. She has a crush~ I think it's cute." Sky narrowed his eyes at him, clearly not understanding what happened to that possessive older brother gene that every elder son was given. Did it skip Adam? "Oh, how rude of me, I forgot, you have a crush too~" He teased, rubbing Sky's head. Sky made a noise of distaste and shoved his hand away.

                "No way, man, I don't have a crush on Kaitlynn!" He snapped. Adam raised a brow, teasingly.

                "Who said I was talking about her?" He questioned, grinning widely. Sky immediately made a disgusted face and shoved him.

                "Not EVEN funny." He scowled. "You're giving me a ride home." Sky kicked off the lockers and stormed off in the same direction Kaitlynn went in.

                "Oh, man. Scary. It's not like I don't give him a ride every day anyway." Adam sighed again, planting his hands on his hips, staring around at the empty hallway. "I wonder if I'm growing any gray hair yet." He wondered aloud.

1. What is your full name? Do you have a nickname?
My name's Devet...just Devet.
Most people call me either Devet or Dev--and my mother calls me Devvie...-__-

2. How old are you? When is your birthday?
I have seventeen years. I was born on the second of Faiz.
[February]

3. Where were you born? Where do you live now? Are you patriotic?
 I was born and raised in a small town named Kenser. I'm still here.
And I guess if you were to ask anyone, they'd tell you I am quite the opposite of patriotic.
But I love Kenser, they just don't see that.

4. Who are/were your parents? (Names, occupations, personalities, etc.)
I don't really know my father, he died of an illness [that my mother won't tell me about] a few months before I was born.
My mother's name is Rose, and her job is basically handling the little kids in Kenser--sort of a universal babysitter. She's really good with kids, but it seems once the child reaches a certain age, she sort of loses her ability to relate to them. Especially if they're rather on the anti-social and shy side--like me.

5. Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?
I have--excuse me--had an older brother. He was about three years older than me, but he committed suicide for reasons I'd prefer not to disclose...He was an amazing person. Strong, opinionated, had a big heart, and he really understood me. He was sort of the ties between my mother and me that kept the household together. Since he's been gone, it's been a real mess. 
My brother had the tendency to be a little too outspoken, however, which got him into a lot of trouble. He had these opinions--theories--about the puppeteer, that many of the locals did not appreciate. That brought a lot of chaos into the family. But he meant well, my mother and I knew this.

 6. What is your occupation?
 I do not currently have an occupation. I'm too young to really work. [The exception to the rule would be farmer's kids like Koanis...not me]

 7. How tall are you? How much do you weigh?
I'm roughly five foot, eleven inches and I weigh around 156lbs.

 8. What color is your hair? What color are your eyes?
I have raven colored hair like my mother, and amethyst eyes like my father.

10. To which social class do you belong?
Working class.  

 11. Do you consider yourself to be attractive? Do others?
I guess there's something about me. It's a well known topic, that the puppeteer created us puppets to be as attractive as he could create.

 12. What is your style of dress?
 I dunno, casual, I guess. There's not much difference in the clothing here, minus a few obvious factors between genders. Bright colors, and I usually prefer lighter fabrics since I tend to get warm easily.
 
13. Do you have any scars? Tattoos? Birthmarks? Other unique physical features?
I have threads connected to my wrists, shoulders, my neck, knees and ankles.

14. Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?
 I'm allergic to shellfish, actually--scary thing, really. [Which makes things a little difficult, considering a major part of our culture's diet is fish...]
I also get tired really easily.

15. Are you right- or left-handed?
Left-handed.

16. What does your voice sound like?
Like a voice? On the deeper side, people tell me I always have this tone like I'm preparing to contradict everything I just said--a sort of awkwardness.

17. What kind of vocabulary do you use?
Clear, simple language, I try to watch what I say, and carefully choose my words.

18. List three quirks or other defining characteristics:
I'm very fidgety, it comes from being a rather nervous person.
I really don't like the dark at all.
And I don't really talk a lot.

19. How often do you bathe? Do you wear perfumes?
Daily, and no.

20. What kind of facial expression do you commonly wear (dour glare, wry smile, etc)?
I don't usually have a facial expression, and if I do it's a frown. Maslin and Koanis have both said that my facial features make it look like I'm always thinking about something.

21. Do you use body language? How?
I tend to gesture when I speak, and often times the way I fidget makes it easy to tell how I'm feeling.

22. Do you have a commonly used saying?
 I'm not sure, if I do, I haven't noticed.

Childhood

23. What is your earliest memory?
My earliest memory [considering I have a pretty bad memory] would be when I was in school when I was---eight? I remember getting into a fight with this kid because I didn't have a father. I don't know what made it any of his business, but he made it his business, and he teased me about it. I wanted to hit him, but I just couldn't.  

24. How much schooling have you had? Did you enjoy it?
Kids in Kenser are required to get some kind of schooling from the ages of four to fifteen.
School was school, I liked it because I could see my friends--but then again, in a town like this, I didn't really need an excuse to go see them. We're not that far from each other.
But I guess I like learning, but school just doesn't teach the things I like to learn about, things like reading and basic math, I get that. I understand that, it's not enough of a challenge for me. I got bored easily in school, it was a tough time.

25. Where did you learn most of your knowledge and skill?
My brother and school. Mostly my brother though, he taught me more of the useful skills, things you need to know in order to survive. Life lessons, so to speak. He taught me about the world, and to think for myself. "Letting someone else think for you is dangerous. Not everyone knows the difference between right and wrong, learn and decide for yourself."

26. How would you describe your childhood in general?
It wasn't that different from anyone elses childhood, really.
I mean--I was quieter than most of the other kids, didn't have the same interests. I would've rather sat down in read instead of running amuck around the town and getting into trouble.
Like I mentioned before, I was teased a lot, for my father, for being quiet, for being the skinny kid. I don't really think it bothers me now as much as it did then.

27. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a sailor. It seemed like the perfect way to get away from what was going on around me.

28. When and with whom was your first kiss?
That's not exactly a fair question.

29. Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?
Yes, I am, thank you very much.

30. Do you have a notorious or celebrated ancestor? Does that affect you?
My brother was 'notorious' in a way. The town 'freak', the crazy one. It did affect me. My family is sort of looked down upon because of that, and even after Taeo's death, the town still speaks.


Influences 

31. What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?
My brother's death. It's strange to call it anything but a 'traumatic' event, but it's the truth. It changed my life, sometimes I wonder if it was for the worst, or the best.

32. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I'm not sure if I can consider anything I've done so far an 'achievement', (and I know I've been using a lot of quotes--but sometimes I feel like the words aren't quite the right words to use.) considering everything I've done so far turns out wrong.

33. What is your greatest regret?
Ever agreeing to help Taeo with his goals.
But even then--I would've probably regretted it had I not done anything.

34. What is the most embarrassing or shameful thing ever to happen to you?
Me, personally? In school, during the early years, I was locked in a storage closet for a few hours. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't so claustrophobic and afraid of the dark at that age. Ever since then--I've really had an aversion to small, dark places.

35. Do you have any secrets? If so, what are they?
There's nothing really that I hold as a secret; someone's bound to know something.

36. What is the most evil thing you have ever done?
 It may not be evil, but it must've been something horrible to convince Maslin to help me, even though I knew we'd both get into so much trouble. I could've just gone alone and spared everyone else, but no, I had to drag Maslin along.

37. When was the time you were the most frightened?
I don't think any particular moment stands higher than the rest. I get scared a lot, that's in my personality.

38. Have you ever traveled outside of your country? If so, to where?
There isn't any outside of my country--my country, Munoria, is more of a small 'planet' so to speak. After a certain point, there is no more land, and that's it--just space.

Beliefs

40. Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?
 I like to say I'm a realist, but I know and am willing to admit, that I am a pessimist. It's hard for me to see that brighter side to things. But I suppose that's what Maslin's for, to balance my pessimism with her optimism.

41. Do you believe in a god? If so, which one and why?
I believe in the puppeteer. I agree that something had to create this world, but I know that he isn't the one responsible for everything that occurs.
Sometimes I don't know what to believe.

42. Do you believe in an afterlife?
Honestly, I'm not sure.
Part of me thinks that when I die, I'll just get lowered into the dirt, and I'll be fertilizing the roses. The other part of me thinks I'll be sentenced to the flaming pits of hell for everything I've done.
Like I said, I'm not sure what to believe.

43. What is your greatest fear?
 Failing. Honestly, death scares me. The very idea of not being scares me.
It's silly to be afraid of such a thing, because I know it'll happen, but right now--maybe I'm not ready, but I just--death frightens me.

44. What makes you angry? Sad? Happy? Why?
Things that make me angry--- my mother, sometimes she's just intolerable. She's smothering, and I hate being smothered. Other times she's trying to dig things up, trying to make me remember and think about things that I try to push back and forget.

45. Do you think people are basically good or basically evil?
 I honestly don't know. I'd like to think people are basically good, but I can't help but be skeptical.

46. What are your views on politics? Religion? Sex?

 
47. What are your views on gambling, lying, theft, and killing?

48. How far will you go to defend your beliefs?
I guess I'd go pretty far. I mean--yeah...pretty far.

49. How much do you value money?
Currency isn't much of a priority in Kenser. Usually it's a trade type of market. But if I have money, I make sure I don't lose it, or it doesn't get stolen.

50. In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?
Make an entire nation belief something is--when it isn't.

51. Do you believe in self-sacrifice for the greater good?
I guess--you do what you have to do. I believe that that was what Taeo had done, and while I know I wish he was still around, I know that in some way it was necessary. It opened people's eyes--made them think.

52. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?
Get back to me on that.

53. Are you superstitious?
I can be, but I'm slowly getting out of it.

54. How much do you respect the beliefs and opinions of others?
I try to leave people and their beliefs alone, but when I'm forced to participate in the beliefs and opinion's of others, I can't help but pick at what they think and pin-point what's wrong with it.

55. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings?
Painfully honest--but it's not intentional.

56. Do you have any biases or prejudices?
I can't afford to be bias.

Dealing With Others

 
57. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?
Before, I would have to say my brother, but since he's not around anymore, I guess I'd have to pick someone else. Maslin's very important to me--she always tries to help, and she understands the way I think. Sometimes she just doesn't get it, but the difference is, she tries, and that's more than anything I could wish for.

58. Who is the person you respect the most? Despise the most? Why?
I'm not sure if I truly respect anyone for any specific reason. I mean--I have great respect for my brother, Koanis and Maslin but I couldn't begin to tell you why.

59. Do you have a significant other? Who?
I guess as far as 'significant others' would go, I suppose I could consider Maslin my significant other.

60. Do you have a lot of friends? Who is your best friend?
I don't. I have a few friends, Tak, Yulu, Cajona, Josa, even though I don't

61. How do you relate to members of the same race? Class? Sex?
I have trouble relating to anyone really, but I suppose it's easier when it's someone like you.

62. How do you relate to members of a different race? Class? Sex?
Like I said, I have trouble relating, but it's a lot harder when you're in a completely different category, y'know?

63. Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.
Once.

64. What do you look for in a potential lover?
Someone who's caring, who understands, and will back me up when I'm right--or even close to right, and doesn't have the problem telling me when I'm wrong.

65. How close are you to your family?
Since my mother is the only ounce of family I have left, I'd say, not that close.

66. Do you want a marriage, family, and/or children?
I guess, someday, I mean--who doesn't at some point in their life--right?

67. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
I'm definitely the kind of person who avoids conflict at all costs. 
But I seem to lack the ability sometimes.  

68. Are you a listener or a talker?
I'm a listener...I'm not much for carrying a conversation.

69. How long does it usually take for you to trust others?
For incremental amounts of trust, not long, but to fully trust someone is something rare for me.

70. Do you hold grudges?
I try not to, but sometimes I get so angry, I just can't help but dwell on it for a while.

71. Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?
Haha. No.

72. Do you like interacting with large groups of people?
I hate crowds, hate them. Ugh, even thinking about them -shudders-, no.

73. How well do you express yourself?
Too well. I have eyes like an open book, they can read me like a map, my face is like a window--blah, blah. I can't seem to hide how I feel from people. I can express emotion fairly well, I suppose, but getting it into concrete words is a bit more troublesome.

74. How quickly do you judge others?
Very quickly, sadly, but I have to, it keeps me safe.

75. Do you care what others think of you?
At this point, I think it'd be foolish of me.

76. Do you have any enemies? How or why are they your enemy?
Ha. I have quite the amount of enemies. Go against the word of the town and automatically you're like-- a terrorist or something.
It's safe to say that  a good majority of the city [and a few surrounding cities] are my enemies.

Personal Taste and Opinions

 
77. What is your favorite pastime? Color? Food? Possession?
I like to sleep--remember when I mentioned that I get tired really easy? Yeah.
My favorite color is purple--surprisingly enough for a male but--I don't know, I like it.
Vegetables are good. I like pretty much any kind.
I'm not sure really on a possession though--maybe my brother's journal, in reference to things I couldn't bear to lose, y'know?

78. What are your preferences in arts and/or entertainment?
I don't really have a preference, if it's good, I'll like it.

79. Do you smoke, drink, go whoring, or use drugs? Why or why not?
Definitely not.

80. How do you spend a typical Saturday night?
Home--reading. 
I used to hang out with Koanis but--that doesn't really happen anymore.  

81. What is your most cherished fantasy?
That my brother would still be alive, and that maybe--maybe I knew my father.  
 
82. How long is your attention span?
As long as I need it to be--unless I'm thinking about something.

83. Do you laugh a lot? What do you find funny?
I guess I laugh a moderate amount.

84. Is there anything that shocks or offends you? If so, what?
I think I'm more of the one who does the shocking and offending.

85. How do you deal with stress?
I usually try to put it off, not think about it, y'know? Eventually it builds up though and well...it's not a nice view.

86. How much athletic ability do you have? Artistic?
Like, none. At any of that. I have no talent at all. Athletic is a bit hard when I usually have no energy. [But I assure you, I can assert force if I need to] and I can barely draw a straight line. It's sad.

87. Do you like animals? Do you like children?
I like animals--not as much as Koa, but they're okay.
Ahh, children. -makes a face- I really don't like them.

88. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?
I like plans, yes.

89. What are your pet peeves?
People who are noisey. I hate loud things.


Self-Image

90. What is your greatest strength as a person? Weakness?
I think for both answers it'd be my willingness to make someone happy.
I guess sometimes it can get me in trouble.

91. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My reluctance to accept things how they are. And maybe my pessimism. It annoys even me sometimes.

92. Are you generally introverted or extroverted?
Introverted, no question.

93. Do you like yourself?
Most days I don't have a problem with myself.

94. Do you have a daily routine? How do you feel if your day is interrupted?
Most days I do. I don't really care if it's interrupted, it's not like it's a set in stone routine.

95. What goal do you most want to accomplish in the next six months? Your lifetime?
I think it would just be a great feat to keep myself out of trouble for a while.

96. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 20 years?
I don't know, maybe I could chase that dream of being a sailor?
Maybe I'd be married--you know, in love and all that.
But really, I'm not a mystic or a fortune teller--I can't predict the future or any of that.

97. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
Peacefully, please.

98. What is the one thing you would like to be remembered for after your death?
For changing society for the better. Freeing people.

99. What three words would you use to best describe your personality?
quiet, weak, faithful.

100. What three words would others probably use to describe you?
 Quiet, strong, troublemaker.

101. Why are you risking your life to adventure?
Because my brother can't anymore.

===


There! Now you can read it. Devet's 101.
I hope it all makes sense. I sort of zoned out through most of that.
It's weird how sometimes it feels like they really are the ones speaking. >__>
Maybe I'm just crazy. lol

Chapter One

            Devet woke with a start, shaking, cold sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead. That was the fifth time that week that he had had that nightmare. Each one was as clear as the first and it looked as if his brother was not going to leave him alone anytime soon. He groaned as he stared up at his neutral colored ceiling and draped an arm over his face.
            He figured that it probably did not help that the whole town was talking about a storm about what had happened. After all, his brother had been the "crazy" one. The coveted town freak. Devet knew that, and he knew that the gossip wasn't going to ease up anytime soon.
            Devet pulled himself upright and vigorously rubbed the sleep from his face. He drew back his hands in distaste at how clammy they were. He sighed and crossed his legs in front of him. He hunched over, burying his fingers in his damp, raven hair. When he closed his eyes again, images of that night flashed vividly through his mind.
            He remembered seeing Taeo's lifeless, pale body laying there next to his bed. Every time he imagined it, his hands would shake and his chest would tighten up and just like that, the nausea would kick in.
            Devet didn't know why when he saw his brother he couldn't move. He remembered barely being able to make a sound and his legs just would not move. Even when his mother charged past him, he barely shifted. The fear and the shock rendered his whole body rigid and motionless. And then, just like that, he remembered collapsing, falling into a heavy heap, anguish overcoming him. It had felt like the puppeteer himself had severed his own threads.
            Devet shook his head, drawing himself back into real time, and rubbed the string attached to his left wrist. He bit down his lip, unsure as to what he was doing, and tugged, hard, on the thread. His eyes slammed shut and a yelp escaped his lips. Taking a moment to focus on the pain, he wondered how his brother was able to do something like that. Just pulling on them hurt like hell, let alone actually cutting them off. Snapping open one eye, he glanced down at his wrist, and as he let both eyes fall open onto it, frowned at the bruise that was now forming.
            Those strings, you understand, are a very important factor to a puppet's life source. Inappropriate tugging, bending (prolonged), or flicking could cause complications or bruising (depending on the location) and severing the threads could cause death. They sound fragile enough, easy to damage, but they're not. What Taeo did was extraordinary, and he must've been determined to accomplish his goal. Those threads are tough; they're coarse and thick. It would take a lot of work to completely sever those threads and only a small few are capable of doing that with ease (but that's a later subject).
            Like mentioned, those threads are a lifeline to beings like Devet. Beings like puppets, marionettes controlled by their god, the puppeteer. The puppeteer controlled everyone with the strings.       
            At least, that's what they're taught to believe.
            Devet's brother Taeo had his theories about the puppeteer. Every last one was written down in his personal journal (that Devet hadn't gotten around to reading yet--he'd been busy). Taeo was anything but accepted in their town. In fact, anyone who doubted the absolute power of the puppeteer wasn't accepted. But those people were taken care of. Devet figured that Taeo took care of himself before they could.
            "Devvie," his mother's voice came in through the closed door, "dear, are you alright?" and then shortly after that the door was pushed open. Devet tensed.
            "Uh...yeah," he replied awkwardly. She opened the door a little further, the light causing him to wince and cover his eyes. He could almost feel his pupils cringing.
            "I heard you yell--" she started quietly. "Did you have a nightmare or something?" she questioned tentatively. She stepped fully into the room and leaned up against the doorframe.
            He had to give her some credit for trying to help, but she hadn't been that good at parenting ever since he had started to grow up and hit adolescence. She responded better with his older brother Taeo, but then again, who hadn't, but even that was before he started to get all weird. She was better at handling the small children and social people. She didn't know how to deal with people like him, a teenager who spent most of his time in his head.
            "No, I'm alright." He responded shortly after in a tense voice, staring down at his solid printed comforter.
            "Look," his mother started, sitting down on the edge of his bed beside him. "I know you're upset about your brother's death and all--"
            "Mom--"
            "And I know it's been awfully quiet lately--"
            "--Mom--" ‘Listen to me’! He cried out in his head.
            "But we can get through this--"
            "Mom!" Devet repeated loudly, covering his ears in exasperation. What was she trying to accomplish?
            “Wha—“She stopped instantly, staring at him with wide eyes. He shook his head angrily. What was she doing thing—saying this? Why wouldn’t she just let it go and forget it like he was trying to do? No, she had to keep bringing it up.            
            “Can we just—stop talking about this?” he requested quietly, dropping his eyes. “Please?”
            “Devet…We have to talk about this—you can’t just—“
            “No! I’m tired of talking about this.” He shook his head angrily and shoved himself out of his bed. He smoothed down his night clothes and looked away from her. His shoulders slumped. “Just stop bringing him up, will you?” In a huff, his mother got to her feet, shocked, and a little hurt.
            “You can’t just—ignore this…you can’t deal with this on your own.” She protested.
            “I can—and I will!” he snapped suddenly, as his fists clenched at his sides.
            They stood there in silence, staring at each other for the longest time before a strangled noise of defeat emitted from his mouth. “Look…I’m sorry, but—“he spoke, quietly, rubbing his forehead. “I’m trying to let this go…and you keep bringing it up and I—“he covered his eyes with his palm and gave out a low sigh. “I just don’t want to talk about it anymore. Alright? Taeo’s dead, okay, I get it. I’ve accepted it. Let’s move on.”
            Rose remained silent, allowing her gaze to flicker from one object to another, trying to find the words to use. She was quick to blink away the hurt that appeared in her eyes. Great, he offended her again. Fabulous.
            “Mom…” Devet tried. He was always hurting her feelings. He had nowhere near the capability of sugar-coating things like Taeo could. “I’m sorry.”
            “I,” she started weakly, clearing her throat. “I need to go make breakfast.”
            “Mom,”
            “Would you mind going to the marketplace for me? I need you to get a few things…”
            “Sure, but mom—“she was already heading for the door. Damn it, why would she never listen to him? 
            “I think I have the list downstairs—“and with that, she closed the door and was gone.
            Devet let out an angry groan and dropped himself onto his bed in an irritable heap. Great, now his mother was upset. Why did he always have to do that?
            He shifted, dropping himself across the edge of his mattress. When he was sure his mother was definitely downstairs, he reached in between the mattress and the bed frame and pulled out a dark, leather-bound journal. Taeo’s journal—the one he had left behind when he killed himself. With a deep breath, he unlocked it and flipped it open to the page that was last written on.
            The “suicide note.”
            Devet sighed, hesitant to read it right away. He had read it once or twice before this, but it never quite sunk in like he figured it should have. “Just read it, Devet,” he chided himself faintly and after a few moments, he finally allowed his eyes to wander across the page.

            Let me start off by apologizing. Dev, I am so sorry. This is just about the worst thing I could have ever done to you. But I need this—I need your help.
            I don’t think they will ever believe me. They all think that I’m crazy, and hell, maybe I am, but I know what I’m talking about. My theories about the puppeteer are more than just theories; they’re fact. I wish I could prove it, but I can’t. I can’t and the puppeteer would’ve seen to it that I never would.
            I’m tired of the ridicule, and I’m tired of that goddamn institution. I’m not crazy, I’m not, and I’m tired of being treated as such.
            Dev, I want you to take this journal. I need you to read every page; I need you to know the truth. Most importantly, I need your help. You have to make them believe, Dev. Show them what the puppeteer is really all about. Dev, please, I’m begging you.

                                    Do this for me.
                                                 Taeo

            “Make them believe what exactly?” Devet asked the book bitterly, chucking it across the bed, listening as it collided with his shoes on the floor. “Make them believe that I’m just as crazy as you are?”
            And maybe he was.


==

Yeah, I don't know how well that turned out.
I'm not sure, but it felt choppy. [As per usual]
Grammar mistakes? Point them out please. =]


So there you go. Chapter One.

Name: Koanis (Koh-Ahn-Is)
Nicknames: Koa (Koh-Ah)
Birthday: November 26th
Age: 18
Height: 6'0''
Weight: 160lbs

+The Appearance+

Hair Color: Red
Hair Length: Chin length
Hair Style: Shaggy, parted in the middle
Eye Color: Emerald
Skin Tone: Tan
Body Type: Lean
Markings: A dark colored mark from his left ear to across his nose.
Accessories: Strings attached to both wrists, ankles, and the back of the neck.

+Relations+
Mother: Mana
Father: Tof
Siblings: None
Friends: Yulu, Josa, Tak, Cajona
Best Friend: Devet
Love Interest: N/A

~ I. The Basics

Name: Koanis

Age: Eighteen

Birthdate: November 26th

Birthplace: Kenser, Munoria

Residence:  Kenser, Munoria

Height:  6'0''

Weight : 160lbs

Appearance:  Shaggy red hair, sparkly emerald eyes. Dark mark on the left side of his face. Lean and tan

from farming.

Dress: Dark colors, nothing white. Subtle patterns. Short-sleeved shirts and shorts.
 

~ II. The Obvious
Enemies:
Maslin [In the beginning]

Pets:
A large grey-hound named Natzla

Diet:
Poultry, Noodles, Vegetables

Likes:
Hard work, being active, snide comments, running, hanging out with friends, learning, knowing what's going on at all times.

Dislikes:
Maslin, lazy or ignorant people, not knowing, sitting still

Habits:
Has a tendency to fidget in church 'cause he'd rather be moving around and doing things.

~ III. The Less Obvious

Strengths:
Physical strength, being handy

Weaknesses:
Critical, and not very understanding

Fears:
Not succeeding or losing something he's worked hard on, either material or non material  

Most Traumatic Experience:
When wild dogs got loose on his family's farm.

Most Wonderful Experience:
n/a

~ IV. Views Regarding:
Life:
Shouldn't be taken for granted. 

Authority:
They know what they're talking about and they have your best interest in mind. 

Religion:
He thrives on religion. 

~ V. Interesting Details

Favorite Color and Why:
Black, because it doesn't show dirt

Favorite Literature:
Adventure novels, non fiction

Stuff for Maz. :]



Name: Maslin
Nicknames: Maz
Birthday:
Age: 15
Height: 5'3''
Weight: 120lbs

+The Appearance+

Hair Color: Platinum Blonde
Hair Length: Hip lengths
Hair Style: Ultra-straight with the bangs pulled out of her face
Eye Color: Gold
Skin Tone: Peach
Body Type: Thin
Markings: Star on her left cheek
Accessories: Strings attached to both wrists, her ankles, and the back of her neck.

+Relations+
Mother: Nala
Father: Jost
Siblings: None
Friends: Yulu, Josa, Ana
Best Friend: Yulu
Love Interest: Devet

~ I. The Basics

Name: Maslin

Age  15

Birthdate:

Birthplace:  Tanso, Munoria

Residence:  Kenser, Munoria

Height: 5' 3" 

Weight : 120lbs

Appearance: Long, Ultra-Straight blonde hair, and gold eyes with bright yellowish/orange eye shadow

Dress: Bright colors, greens, pinks, purples and gold. Billowy soft fabrics
 

~ II. The Obvious
Enemies:
Koanis

Pets:
A small white mouse named Queenie

Diet:
Vegetables, Poultry, Citrus Fruits, Rice

Likes:
Brights colors, pleasant smells, animals, singing and being outside

Dislikes:
Cramped environments, the color brown, people telling her what to do, being stuck inside

Habits:
Messing with her hair or looking at her reflection in windows and such

~ III. The Less Obvious

Strengths:
Understanding, being compassionate, fixing things, encouraging others.

Weaknesses:
Complains a lot. Indecisive in most cases.

Fears:
Small bugs that crawl.  

Most Traumatic Experience:
When her mother died.

Most Wonderful Experience:
When she moved to Kenser, which is a town much brighter than Tanso

~ IV. Views Regarding:
Life:
Life is only worth living if you have someone worth living for.

Authority:
She has the tendency to disrespect authority.

Religion:
She believes what she has always known to believe.

~ V. Interesting Details

Favorite Color and Why:
Pink because it's a pretty color

Favorite Literature:
Romantic, Fantasy, etc.

Information for Dev, and all that fun stuff. :]



Name: Devet
Nicknames: Dev
Birthday: February 2nd [Faiz 2nd] [[Aquarius]]
Age: 17
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 156lbs

+The Appearance+

Hair Color: Raven
Hair Length: Neck length on one side
Hair Style: Longer on the right side, short and choppy around his ear on the left.
Eye Color: Amethyst
Skin Tone: Pale
Body Type: Thin
Markings: None that stand out.
Accessories: Strings attached to both wrists, his ankles, and the back of his neck.

+Relations+
Mother: Rose
Father: Kova [Deceased]
Siblings: Taeo [Older, Deceased]
Friends: Tak, Yulu, Cajona, Josa
Best Friend: Koanis
Love Interest: Maslin

~ I. The Basics

Name: Devet

Age  17

Birthdate: February 2nd 

Birthplace:  Kenser, Munoria

Residence:  Same.

Height: 5' 11''  

Weight : 156lbs

Appearance: Shaggy, lopsided hair with amethyst eyes 

Dress: Dark/Neutral colors, Earth tones and beiges. Fitted clothing, necklaces.

~ II. The Obvious
Enemies:
The Puppeteer, lol, and the rest of the townspeople.

Pets:
None

Diet:
Vegetables, Poultry, Citrus Fruits, Rice

Likes:
Calm, quiet environments, sleeping, reading, running, playing sports with Koanis, 

Dislikes:
Noisy things, going to the market places, anyone who stifles him, being in cramped areas, his mother nagging him.

Life Habits:
Has a tendency to rub his forehead a lot. 

~ III. The Less Obvious

Strengths:
Planning things, and thinking 

Weaknesses:
Extremely stubborn and has a problem with taking the leadership position.
Has a tendency to come off a bit rude.

Fears:
Death, failure, and losing.  

Most Traumatic Experience:
When his brother committed suicide.

Most Wonderful Experience:
He can't name one at the moment.

~ IV. Views Regarding:
Life:
Should be lived on your own terms, not someone elses.

Authority:
He's fine with obeying authority, so long as they're right.

Religion:
It's a touchy subject with him.

~ V. Interesting Details

Favorite Color and Why:
Blue, because he thinks that that is the color the sky should be.

Favorite Literature:
Classics, Adventure novels and things he can learn from.