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About keyholder21

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    Resident Blueberry Cheesecake
  • Birthday 03/11/1984

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    KeyHolder21 (rarely on)
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  • Gender
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    Texas, USA (by way of New York)
  • Interests
    Reading, 'riting, 'rithmetic.

    I'm a movie addict/fanatic.

    Obviously I am a WoT fangirl (hardcore).

    I'm addicted to this online flash game called Word Bubbles.

    I like hanging out with friends and family and enjoy people in general .

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  1. It was summer and a storm was brewing. Outside the air was heavy with moisture; the cloud underbellies deepening in color as people scurried to finish their daily tasks. Streaks of lightning occasionally jumped from cloud to cloud, heightening the need for haste. Shopkeepers had already ducked into their storefronts, not wanting to tempt the weather in order to sell one more item. Children followed along behind their parents, many pointing at the sky and whispering excitedly to another. Inside the Palace, Arissa looked out the window toward the sky. She frowned slightly, pulling her lips into a pretty pout, and swirled the drink in front of her. A storm would make a stroll outside less than pleasant, and she had planned to suggest Enara hold Court in the High Garden today. She could alter the weather if needed, but she admittedly, she wasn’t great at it. Changing the weathers required multiple large weaves of varying complexity, and a certain spontaneity that Arissa despised. She preferred the controlled intricacy of the mind. She heard the rustling of fabric and smiled as she slowly turned, the gray light casting an almost eerie glow on her unclothed frame. Enarra, blonde hair unbound and splayed messily across a pillow smiled at her sleepily. “I could stay in bed all day,” her voice hitching slightly as she stretched two pale arms skyward. “Especially if you would stay with me.” Her frame relaxed back against the nest of silk covered pillows and she brazenly watched Arissa cross the room. Gathering one of the pale pink robes that had been neatly set out for the pair, the Chosen winked, her green eyes flashing in wicked delight. She drew Saidar and almost sighed as the perfection of the One Power flooded through her. “As much as I would love to stay in bed all day, we have Court this afternoon. And,” she added, tying the sash loosely around her waist, “you know we must be careful not to be seen together lest the rest worry that you are playing favorites.” She punctuated her admonishment with a soft Compulsion weave and the spitting image of an adoring smile. “Sometimes I can’t believe the decisions I make,” Enarra said, half to herself, “Sometimes I think I am playing favorites…” the Queen of Andor trailed off, bounding to her feet. Snatching the other robe, she leaned in close to push some glossy dark blonde hair out of Arissa’s face and peck her lovingly on the cheek, “but you just make so many bloody good points, Aleya. Maybe you should be Queen.” Laughing, the blonde pushed her lover left, toward the hidden door connecting their rooms and walked toward her enormous powder room. Arissa dropped the seductive gaze as Enarra disappeared into the other room. “Oh lovely, ignorant Enarra,” she murmured, “I already am.” Stepping into “her” rooms, the Chosen swiftly donned her Lady Aleya attire – it was much too modest for her personal taste, but it was a necessary discomfort – and headed toward the throne room. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~* “I’m so glad you could join me for tea, Lady Aleya,” though the tone sounded less than welcoming. “It seems you have had the Queen’s ear of late, and well, as we differ on many fronts, I thought it may be best to meet and discuss.” She took a sip of her tea and smiled a cold smile that did not reach her eyes. Arissa tipped the cup up to her mouth but did not drink. When finished, she smiled at the other woman, baring white teeth that gleamed slightly in the sun. She'd already removed the bullish "Aes Sedai" from meddling; this Lady would be even easier to break. Arissa had been manipulating people since the Breaking...before the Breaking if Dar Keran was to be believed. Fool man, she thought bitterly, before returning her attention to the irritating person in front of her. “It’s a pleasure to be here,” the Chosen said, in a tone only mildly more friendly than the host had used. In the current political climate, pleasantries were necessity, but actually being nice would be viewed as suspicious. Though Cairhein was famous for Daes Dae’mar – Arissa scoffed at the name – Andoran politics could be just as vicious. Especially when whispers of a succession crisis had begun to spread through the great Houses. The Queen was young, but had no Heir. Nor had she shown any interest in remarrying after the rather sudden death of her husband nearly two years ago. To the world she seemed content to remain alone. Harlin gave the impression of a tight smile – or grimace, it was difficult to tell – before launching into her pitch for Succession should it come to that. She morphed into almost a different person, as she met “Areya’s” blue eyes, passion in her voice and real emotion in her body language. It was a truly impressive performance. Someone not highly studied in mental inner-workings may have been swayed. But Arissa was aware and Areya was loyal…for now. “Harlin,” she said, interrupting the other woman, “Enarra is still a young woman; she’s only in her mid-20s. Besides, this sounds like treason. You are speaking of taking the crown!” Arissa inwardly cocked a brow as she watched horror and resentment fall over the face of the other woman. The Chosen had little desire to actually sit on the Lion Throne, but her proximity and “friendship” with the Queen placed her in high regard politically, and socially. She was the logical choice for succession if it came down to it, but her loyalty to Enarra would only serve to cement the people’s love for her and drive Harlin mad with competition. Enarra was a popular Queen, a fair and just ruler with a pretty face and a love for her people. Word of Harlin’s lust for power would soon be out; Arissa had made sure of it. But she’d also ensured there were some loud vocal supporters of the Lady as well, just to make it interesting. She took a dainty drink, nearly spitting the disgustingly weak liquid back into her cup. “I suggest you cease this talk and settle back down to drink some tea. It must be almost chilled by now.” The other woman narrowed her eyes, but reclined into the chair slightly. Areya was right. The tea was cold. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Arissa wove a Gateway, stepping once again into the Dreamworld. She readied her usual weave and shield before snapping the shut. Strolling around the suggested meeting place, she let a small smile come to her lips. The pale gray walls shimmered with minuscule reflections of the hearth blazing across the room and a dark plush carpet muted the sound of footfalls. Similarly dark furniture dotted the moderately sized room though there was little else here. Beautiful stonework if austere in decor; it fit Seranha perfectly. There were no hints of where the other Chosen might be, though Arissa surreptitiously checked anyway. Everyone made mistakes at some point. Like myself in trusting Kharin with Wendalle after the Breaking. She shredded his mind beyond repair and cackled as I had to scrape together the information we needed. Locking that frustrating memory away, Arissa leaned against the arm of the chair closest to the fire. It gave off the same intensity of light, but the flames were mere reflections of true world. No heat attempted to ward off the ever present chill of tel'aran'rhiod. Interestingly, the hearth never flickered to be fully out; Seranha must keep the fire stoked constantly. There might be something to that....the auburn-haired beauty filed it away for possible future use. The other Chosen was probably the person most akin to a friend, but that didn't mean she wasn't also a threat Arissa may need to neutralize in the future. Humming quietly to herself, Arissa waited patiently. Were she and Seranha different people, she would have thought Seranha was making her wait on purpose. However, Seranha was more blunt than passive and Arissa was extremely patient. She had always enjoyed playing the long game; often as much or more as the eventual outcome. She pondered her next move with the Andoran nobility as the fire made almost natural crackling and popping sounds in the empty room. It wasn't long before Seranha appeared, her dark hair in a solitary braid hanging at her back and an empty weapon belt slung across her hips. "Thanks for coming," the shorter woman said, crossing the room to sit in the ebony chair across from where Arissa stood. "I have some news you may be interested in, and a proposition for you." "Do tell," the redhead purred, a goblet of chilled white wine appearing in her hand. She took a deep draw from the liquid and when she met Seranha's eyes, Arissa's emerald eyes twinkled with mischief and malice. "I enjoy a good proposal."
  2. Arissa sighed as a charm on her bracelet began to glow a faint red. "I suppose that means it is time," she murmured aloud, gesturing for the band in front of her to cease playing. The music ended abruptly, the last note ringing in her ears as she wove a gateway to the usual meeting place. Their placid faces smiled at her as she shooed them back to ...wherever they stayed when they weren't in her presence. In unison, they stepped apart and marched off. She'd never considered where her playthings existed when they weren't entertaining her, and it wasn't something she would spend anytime on this day either. She just knew they were always within a snap of her fingers, or a short Compulsive tug, and that's all that really mattered. Her body tingled slightly as she stepped into The World of Dreams. Arissa knew it wasn't an actual physical reaction, rather an affectation she had created many years ago and had yet to dispel. It served to alert her to the danger of Tel'Aran'Rhiod. Despite her skill - like all Chosen she was deft at molding the dreamworld around her - it was just as easy to die here as in the real world, perhaps more so. Especially with the company she would be joining. I don't think Tervihn has ever forgiven me for showing Alicendi she was being manipulated. Divara, Kharin, and Gerehl weren't friendly either, preferring to hate Arissa for her beauty AND her mind. Drawing Saidar, the auburn-haired Chosen readied an offensive weave designed to burst thousands of tiny blood vessels in the brain simultaneously - and then shielded her weave from view. Her own design, the shield was unable to be unraveled or observed. To the world, and most importantly from her Chosen brethren, she appeared unarmed. At least Raphael will be there. He was beautiful enough to be one of her playthings, and was wickedly intelligent besides. Arriving in the middle of the group, as designed, Arissa winked at Raphael and moved toward one end of the long table. As always, the table and its setting was lovely enough. Now and then a lick of flame poked through the opening at the top of the candlelights, as if wanting to prove it was real. The rest of the room changed slightly every time, a reflection of its real world counterpart, though it never showcased the mounted animal heads the actual Lord was so proud of. Vanahl had banished them long ago while muttering about their incessant chattering. Arissa took a seat, gracefully smoothing the non-existant wrinkles from her dress. It was a lavender piece, designed by one of the most prominent dressmakers before the Breaking. A time now referred to as the "Age of Legends". It was one of a kind and it set off her hair and eyes beautifully. Divara stared daggers at her; she'd been a rival clothier - and a terrible gossip. She was currently operating out of the ridiculously-named White Tower, and still acting as a gossip. Serahna rolled her eyes, but congenially. She had an unusual strong ability for Earth and Fire and had built many of the beautiful buildings in Davelle and other cities...and brought them down too. She was dressed simply; Arissa's intelligence put Serahna somewhere in the Borderlands, but couldn't pin down exactly where. Assuming a person could have friends in this group, Arissa would include Serahna in hers - along with Raphael. Though you couldn't really trust anyone here. He loved to make an entrance, so it was no surprise that Vanahl was the last to arrive. She nearly smiled when Raphael commented on their "leader" 's usual tardiness, but held it back due to mixed company. She preferred to observe them, not the other way around. Instead, Arissa kept her face neutral and her eyes roaming. Gerehl whispered something to Divara and she laughed, tilting her head back. Banohr gave Arissa a small smile when he thought he was unobserved; he practically worshipped her for what she could do with the human brain. No one touched the goblets on the table. Finally deigning to arrive, Vanahl stepped through a gateway, his eyes burning with liquid fire. Arissa felt a thrill of fear and a small thrill of excitement. Half-mad, it always a guess as to what Vanahl would say or do. Everyone around the table immediately sat up straighter. Gerehl and Divara ceased talking and snapped their attention to the Nae'blis. "Someone has been interfering with the boy Dragon ahead of schedule. Under EXPLICIT orders not to. He has been visited by an unauthorized Myrddraal, two gray men, and a draghkar. Pass orders to your Friends of the Dark near him that any Shadowspawn within one country of his vicinity must be reported to me immediately. Each of you will meet with me privately to tell me your plans and your knowledge of every one else's plans. I WILL find who has disobeyed." Vanahl's eyes blazed hotter as he looked at each one of them in turn. -- Arissa stepped back into the warmth of her palace dropping her weave and shield only once the Gateway snapped closed. She hadn't been the one to mess with Der Keran's poor replacement, but it had been tempting. The arrogance of youth surrounded him and all it would take was a few tiny weaves.... All in due time she scolded herself. Perfectly recalling their faces as Vanahl finished his fervent announcement, she tried to puzzle out who it was. There weren't many other than herself, she thought, that would dare to defy Vanahl. Perhaps it was time to make friends after all.
  3. Sunlight streamed into the front half of the room, alighting the polished glass charms that hung in the air. Minute rainbows burst across the space and a small delightful tinkle sounded as the shards ever so slightly bumped against each other. Below, a petite woman dressed in rags gathered a tea set that had been left on the table. The set consisted of sixteen pieces. Eight were pristine, the delicate blue flowers as vibrant as the day they were bought; eight were full of imperfections, chipped in multiple places and barely held together. The mansion and attendants followed much the same pattern – half resplendent and beautiful, half old and tattered showing only a sliver of former beauty. Always in a delicate balance. A chair sat in the middle of the room, half bathed in the golden light and half draped in darkness. Though it sat empty, it was reminiscent of its normal occupant: wholly beautiful with nary a string out of place. Despite her desire for balance in most things, the Engineer did not skimp on her comforts. On either side sat an exquisitely beautiful human contorted into an achingly difficult shape. One was fully dressed as if winter were coming; the other nude as the day she was born. Their eyes were glazed and a small smile sat upon their lips. They did not react as a puddle of dark red liquid began to move toward them, sinking into the plush white carpeting under their feet. Arissa sighed, hands on her full hips as she stared at the body in front of her. What a pity it was to lose someone so stubborn. The people that fought back were always the most fun to break. She would slowly create synapses in their brain until they were fully under her control, watching their faces while she worked. It was entertaining when they had no idea why they were committing horrible acts; it was stimulating when realization set in and horror shrouded their features. It was arousing when someone chose to fight, pitting their miniscule minds against her superior one. Few lasted longer than ten minutes against her. When she found individuals that were exceptionally bullish, she kept the weave from fully encapsulating, just so she could savor the game. This one could have given her a few hours, at least, while he warmed her bed. Instead, his body was cooling on the floor. Holding her skirts up, she swept past the disappointment into her parlor. Snapping her fingers, she sent an old crone in rags and her partner - a prince with gold hair and rakish good looks dressed in rich purple silks – to clean up the mess. The prince’s eyes blazed for a moment before he settled into a loving gaze directed at the crone. They walked hand-in-hand to the other room, looking for the world like two lovers on a stroll. The crone settled the bucket she was holding in her far hand and together they settled into the puddle, their clothing soaking up as much blood as the cleaning cloths. Arissa smiled dotingly at the pair. She loved the juxtaposition of rich and poor. Neither wanted to be tied to the other, but now here they were, tied together in perpetuity. Ice cubes clinked to her left. Idly, she reached for the glass as a bronze button on the soldier’s jacket caught her eye. The way the light played on it made her think about a day long past, when she was still Elsebet and was still devoted to helping others. She had treated Dar Keran himself, his blue jackets always cut to display his striking figure. The buttons on his jackets had always gleamed; it was like the light followed him. He had been charming at first, mildly arrogant but with a sense of vulnerability. He had come to her for aid with a personal matter. She provided assistance and eventually they became friends. Yet your pride ruined everything; you couldn’t stand that I was more studied, better, than you in the art of delicate weaves. How did that turn out for you, Dragon? You are dead and buried, and I? I have thrived. More memories floated in, “Elsebet Lydea Morendum, at your service”….. Standing at the front of a classroom, rapt men and women attuned to every word she said….An offer of great power and longevity to continue her work…..an endless supply of chattel..… “They are nothing, engineer their futures as you see fit.” ..…whispers in awe and fear surrounding her as she walked down the middle of a street laughing with glee, buildings broken and burning on either side… The ice clinked again as warmth from the sunlight melted the frozen cubes. Coming to from the reverie, Arissa pursed her ruby lips and brushed a swath of wavy auburn hair from her eyes. “Come here darlings,” she stage whispered to a man and a woman in the corner. “I’m in need of some entertainment.” There was no hesitation evident as the pair left their hideous partners behind and strode toward their curvy mistress. Arissa giggled wickedly, her emerald eyes dancing with delight.
  4. Hello Elessar :). I'm always up for hugs! *hugs* I saw your earlier post, but I am currently at work and had to go help someone. I guess you don't have as much time to write as previously suggested? No worries! I'm glad there are still a few people around :). I will have to find out from Tay what I need to do in order to also become active again.
  5. I see it's pretty quiet around here, but as I have some free time and I miss writing, I thought I would do a little. What do I need to do to either take one of my characters out of retirement, or start a new one? 🙂 Key aka Em
  6. I didn't remember much about that character lol. Night ends in ~24 hours (7pm EST) or until all NAs are received.
  7. Dinosaurs are so cool. I grew up playing with toy dinos. Who would've thought I would see them in real life? This is amazing. Until they turn on you.... Hallia was lynched! She was...
  8. Sorry. Am at t-ball practice. Scene incoming.
  9. FINAL VOTE COUNT Hallia: AJ, Darthe, Zander, Cory Not voting (3): Hallia, The Sociopath, Dice, THAT'S A LYNCH! Vote Count 3.1 | Vote Count 3.2
  10. Assuming night lasts until deadline, night ends tonight at 9pm EST. So, 9 more hours.
  11. Night ends in 24 hours, or until all NAs are received!
  12. Dinosaurs are nothing but animals. Big animals, sure, but animals all the same. Which means that they can be controlled. Humans are the top of the food chain in this day and age. We created them and we can take them down too. Can't we? DPR was lynched! He was:
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