It's a hard question for me to answer. See... I don't have many possessions. Not ones I can truly call my own. Slowly though, they are coming. Most here belong to my Sestra. I know what she values. Her freedom. Her family. Her loves. To her monitory things are just that. They really hold no value. They can be replaced. It's what is inside you that ( Read more... )

The dreams were more than disturbing and rocking her down deeper than she expected. She needed someone who understood. She would have called Fox if all she needed was comfort but she needed more. She looked down at the phone once she got her little dove settled back in his bedding. Numbers were already programmed into speed dial, making it easy for ( Read more... )

Trevor Goodchild rested his blue eyes upon the dark lock in his hand. A gentle caress as he rubbed it between his fingers. It was a moment he wanted to savor. It was long in coming. Years. Since he first rested his eyes upon that sleek feminine form ( Read more... )

Sestra looked at all the clothing she had bought, spread out all over the room and smiling. This shopping thing was kind of fun. Only sad thought that came to her was she wouldn't be able to enjoy it for very long. But she would for as long as she walked about ( Read more... )

For a change, the sky was clear though one still could not see the stars above because of the light pollution of the city. The moon was out, shimmering in silver but with a haze of a color that was typical of smog. Her little dove was sleeping, cooing softly as his little chest puffed out with each breath the took. When she had gone out shopping ( Read more... )

Aeon's clone is responding ( Read more... )

The silver of the moon glistened upon the dew kissed leaves below. Beams that carried a song, cut threw those leaves to feed the ground below. A gentle wind rustled branches, sweeping the song from the beam to mix it with the one a mist was whispering. This song was heard by many, in different forms, but only a few heard it's true meaning ( Read more... )

The one with my REAL age:

Often times, it is said that one reached a certain point in torture or a level of pain, they become detached. No long are they a part of their body, becoming one with time and space. Aeon had reached that level and she was no longer one with her body. Floating in the unknown. She was cold and alone while she was in the unknown. Arms wrapped tightly ( Read more... )

Pain. An unpleasant sensation occurring in varying degrees of severity as a consequence of injury, disease, or emotional disorder. It was nothing new or unfamiliar to Aeon. Trained to resist all forms of torture. To endure a great deal of pain at several levels of severity. It was ingrained into her since childhood. A childhood that made her into ( Read more... )