Post by Beatrice Byrne on Jul 14, 2009 3:10:46 GMT -5
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BEATRICEMARGOBYRNE
[/color]BEATRICEMARGOBYRNE
"A simple kind of life"
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OKAY, SO GIVE US THE BASICS !
SORRY, NOT QUITE. SO WHAT ARE AND AREN'T YOU INTO ?
HOW ER... INTERESTING. EVER LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR OF ERISED ?
WHAT MAKES YOU SHAKE IN YOUR BOOTS ?
EVEN YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOME GOOD QUALITIES, RIGHT ?
AND IT'S QUITE OBVIOUS YOU HAVE YOUR BAD, HUH?
LET'S GET DIRTY. WHAT TURNS YOU ON ?
DO YOU LOVE YOUR FAMILY ?
WHERE YA FROM, BY THE WAY ?
THE DEMENTORS ARE HERE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ?
BETTER GET UP A PATRONUS. WHAT ARE YOU REMEMBERING ?
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HI, I AM CAITLIN AND I AM TWENTY YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SHIT FOR TEN YEARS OR SO AND I AIN'T
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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HI, I AM CAITLIN AND I AM TWENTY YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SHIT FOR TEN YEARS OR SO AND I AIN'T
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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Xianglian Zhen was the cruel, harsh taskmistress who headed the Dark Lord’s Imperial Guard. She was a petit woman of direct Chinese descent. Standing at approximately 5 foot 5, she was slim and fit with long dark hair and almond shaped dark eyes. Despite her size, however, she was fierce and powerful and could be extremely intimidating. Her eyes held a sort of fire and wildness that her extremely well kempt outward appearance was set in stark contrast to. She was a time bomb of epic proportions and she expected nothing short of perfection from those under her. Her hair was tied back tightly in a sophisticated bun against the nape of her neck and her face was smooth and expressionless save for the malice in her eyes.
Lian was never surprised when her arm burned with the call of her Master. She found it a welcome relief from the usual tedium of her life. An existence plagued with paperwork enough to drown in and politics. The welcome searing feeling on her arm, this time, felt like the acceptance of a mentor to his student for a job well done. Of course, the summons was general but the timing was delicious. She touched her writhing mark with the tips of her nimble fingers, closed her eyes and tilted her head upward with a pleased sigh. Rousing herself from the warmth of the pain, Xianglian looked down at the filth that was still clinging to the hem of her robes. The man was quite deceased, of course, but his gnarled fingers were still tangled in the fine cloth. She sneered and used her wand to remove the eyesore from her elegant dress and went about cleaning up the scene as was necessary and was on her way. But she was late.
Immediately upon entering the meeting place, the usually all-too-proud woman who none would ever see bow to another outside of the Dark Lord’s presence dropped to her knees, folded them under her and put her hands together on the ground, bending forward to touch her forehead to her fingertips. “My deepest and most profound apologies for the delay, My Lord.” She stated simply and crisply, not moving from her bowed position on the floor. She knew that her absence was due to the Dark Lord’s direct orders and that they were excusable at the base of things. Nevertheless, she would not move from her place of lowliness before her Lord before she was given permission to do so. She knew her place well, though her ways of showing this were heavily influenced by the traditions of her upbringing, they were no less sincere or respectful. It could have been argued that they were even more so; throwing one’s entire self on the floor to show humbleness and averting one’s gaze from that which they do not feel worthy to gaze upon.
She would stand and take her seat when she was ordered to. No sooner and no later. Xianglian's fear of the Dark Lord was a healthy one that had more to do with undying respect and loyalty than an unnerving feeling involving His appearance. She had worked with Him for years now and found that His image was not a gruesome one. Not all power was beautiful. But then again, he was beautiful to her. He wasn't human and that was the point. He was a mighty god, he was more than they were and they should all feel the draw of his power. Surely they must. It was only reasonable for the scum in the world to fear and turn from Him. Humans fear what they do not understand and truly His power was unfathomable. Lian desperately wished to learn His secrets. If she was to know them, they would all come in due time, she knew, but she yearned for that kind of power. She had wished it all her life, for as long as she could remember a seat of power was all she desired.
So, presently, Xianglian Zhen waited in her traditional pose to be given the minor seat of power that was hers for this meeting's purpose.
Lian was never surprised when her arm burned with the call of her Master. She found it a welcome relief from the usual tedium of her life. An existence plagued with paperwork enough to drown in and politics. The welcome searing feeling on her arm, this time, felt like the acceptance of a mentor to his student for a job well done. Of course, the summons was general but the timing was delicious. She touched her writhing mark with the tips of her nimble fingers, closed her eyes and tilted her head upward with a pleased sigh. Rousing herself from the warmth of the pain, Xianglian looked down at the filth that was still clinging to the hem of her robes. The man was quite deceased, of course, but his gnarled fingers were still tangled in the fine cloth. She sneered and used her wand to remove the eyesore from her elegant dress and went about cleaning up the scene as was necessary and was on her way. But she was late.
Immediately upon entering the meeting place, the usually all-too-proud woman who none would ever see bow to another outside of the Dark Lord’s presence dropped to her knees, folded them under her and put her hands together on the ground, bending forward to touch her forehead to her fingertips. “My deepest and most profound apologies for the delay, My Lord.” She stated simply and crisply, not moving from her bowed position on the floor. She knew that her absence was due to the Dark Lord’s direct orders and that they were excusable at the base of things. Nevertheless, she would not move from her place of lowliness before her Lord before she was given permission to do so. She knew her place well, though her ways of showing this were heavily influenced by the traditions of her upbringing, they were no less sincere or respectful. It could have been argued that they were even more so; throwing one’s entire self on the floor to show humbleness and averting one’s gaze from that which they do not feel worthy to gaze upon.
She would stand and take her seat when she was ordered to. No sooner and no later. Xianglian's fear of the Dark Lord was a healthy one that had more to do with undying respect and loyalty than an unnerving feeling involving His appearance. She had worked with Him for years now and found that His image was not a gruesome one. Not all power was beautiful. But then again, he was beautiful to her. He wasn't human and that was the point. He was a mighty god, he was more than they were and they should all feel the draw of his power. Surely they must. It was only reasonable for the scum in the world to fear and turn from Him. Humans fear what they do not understand and truly His power was unfathomable. Lian desperately wished to learn His secrets. If she was to know them, they would all come in due time, she knew, but she yearned for that kind of power. She had wished it all her life, for as long as she could remember a seat of power was all she desired.
So, presently, Xianglian Zhen waited in her traditional pose to be given the minor seat of power that was hers for this meeting's purpose.
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