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INTERESTS? I THINK

<div class="credit"><a href="/hightimes" class="hightimes" title="Credit">HT</a></div>


<div class="music">
<div style="float:left; background-color:#000000; height:25px; width:25px; font-size:18px; text-align:center; line-height:25px; color:#363636; margin-top:3px;">🎧</div>
<div style="float:right;">
<audio autoplay controls loop>
 <source src="https://od.lk/s/OThfMTY3NDk3Njhf/utsusemi.mp3">
</audio>
</div>
</div>




<h1>revelation 12:9</h1>
<h3>discord: ask for it</h3>






<quoteblock>
<div style="float:left; text-align:center; width:10px; padding:8px 14px 10px 14px; text-transform:uppercase; font-family:arial narrow; font-weight:lighter; line-height:17px; font-size:14px; border:1px solid #26070b; height:150px; vertical-align: text-top;">backgrnd -</div>

<div style="overflow:auto; float:right; padding:5px; border:1px solid #000000; width:230px; height:158px;">
<center><i>Do you know what an Ouroboros is? It’s said to be a motif… An ancient symbol of a serpent eating it’s own tail. It’s said to mean infinity – or… Devouring you to become a new self. A circulatory process. It’s said the alchemy of an Ouroboros brings you back to life . . .</i></center><br><br>

Unknown year. <br>
Unknown village, <br>
outskirts of France
<br><br>
A frail looking woman was huddled in a small cot, bloodied blankets all around her. She had just given birth to a healthy baby boy with stunning azure eyes that resembled the lakes in the northern lands and midnight locks that would make the night sky envious. <i>Lennox</i>, meaning with many elm trees. He was born in the time of the many blooming elms, a forest child. She cooed at the small bundle of flesh in her arms, bouncing him ever so slightly as the older women in the room quietly cleaned up around her. The young woman was not oblivious to the whispers that she heard in the village:<br><br>

<center><strong>“Do we know who the father is? “<br>
“No! No one knows!” <br>
“Does the whore think she’s some sort of Virgin Mary?”<br></strong></center><br><br>

The young woman closed her eyes, blocking out their negative banter from outside her room. They didn’t matter. They didn’t matter if they didn’t believe her when she said she does not know how she got pregnant. She swore it was a dream – a man had come to her in her dream, made love to her, cherished her and made her feel important – as the months went by, she started to show signs of pregnancy, her figure becoming more motherly as the seasons passed. Maybe it was not a dream? Even if it wasn’t, what mattered to her now was the giggling infant in her arms, his blue eyes staring at her in the wonder; the same blue eyes she remembers from her <i>dream</i>.  <br><br>

<center>- - - - - - - - - - - - - -</center><br><br>

Unknown year.<br>
Unknown village, <br>
outskirts of France<br>
Lennox, age five
<br><br>

Something was wrong. Something was <i>very, very wrong</i>. At first it was very subtle: her child would get in fights with the other children in the area and he’d come home with new bruises – but he would be smiling. He was known as the troublesome child; the amount of complaints she received from him was starting to escalate. What happened to her innocent baby? Her innocent child who would point at the constellations in the night sky and say to her,  <i>‘Mother, that one looks like a baby bear!’</i> <br><br>

She witnessed something she cannot eradicate from her mind no matter how much she prayed to her Gods. It was a warm summer day, her son had went off missing again and the sun was just started to set – so she ventured out to find him. Ambulating along the twilight path amongst the trees she spotted a bundle of unruly midnight hair in the distance. Getting closer, she was just about to call his name out when she saw it: various small forest creatures lay around his feet, dead, with their eyeballs gouged out. Hot tears started to stream down her face as she took steps back, her face recoiling in disgust as the smell of decaying animal flesh reached her nose as she hurriedly ran back in the direction she came from, oblivious of the haunting blue eyes that followed her, a small smirk etching its way onto his face.<br><br>

The young woman opened the door to her home with trembling hands, shutting it quietly and sliding down the door, tears pooling onto her mahogany floor. What was that? That can’t be real. She had to have been dreaming. Shaking her head furiously, she picked herself off the floor and slowly trudged herself to the kitchen – she had dinner to make after all. <br><br>

Not long after the table was set and food was placed on the table, the door opened and closed again. She heard the shuffling of footsteps before the appearance of her son’s unruly hair came into her line of sight. Taking in his appearance, she noticed.. no blood. Nothing. Had she really dreamt what she saw? Her son noticed her perplexed look and matched it with one of his own. <br><br>
<i>“Mom, why are you looking at me like that?”</i><br><br>

 Physically shaking herself out of her thoughts, she gave her son a soft smile, ruffling his hair slightly as she ushered for him to take his seat at the table. <br><br>

	<i>“It’s nothing, sweetie.” </i> Her motherly tone echoed to him, her eyes full of love and admiration. There was no way her son, her sweet boy, was what she saw in the forest. Taking her seat across from him she held her hands out to him, ready to say grace when what she heard next stopped her dead in her thoughts and left her eyes as wide as a deer in the face of a predator.
	<i>“What’s the point of saying Grace, Mother? God doesn’t help anyone. God is selfish and wants everyone to abide by him. God is a monster.” </i>Was it her imagination? The person sitting in front of her indeed looked like her precious child, but the voice that left him just now.. was not his. <br><br>

This was not her son. This was not her son that picked up his eating utensils and started to move his food around his plate. This was not her son that smiled up at her with a bright smile. His eyes.. his eyes were darker, hauntingly so – the kind of eyes that held the kind of depth that you could drown in. Just who was sitting in front of her right now? <br><br>

Abruptly, the woman stood up, eyes still wide and staring at the dark blue hues of her child in front of her. Wordlessly, she brushed past him and to the front door. She needed to see the priest; she needed whatever entity has just plagued her home out. Her son was possessed, she was sure of it. As she opened the front door, she swore she heard the sound of an eerie giggle, but she was too afraid to turn back around. <br><br>

When she returned to her home, the priest and his followers with her, her son was in the same place he was left in, minus the dinner plate and replaced with a worn down children’s book. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and opened his mouth to greet his mother when he stopped – observing all the eyes of the clergymen that were on him, smile dropping from his face. She hopes she had missed it, but was that a glare she sent their way? Nodding a stiff head at the guests, he turned to go back to his storybook. The priest that was present looked back at his clergy and nodded, opening up the bible to a page he had bookmarked – revelation 12:9 – and his small bottle of holy water, slowly sprinkling it around the home in slow, steady steps. The young woman’s eyes were not on the priest, but rather her son’s. She took in his hunched appearance, how his shoulders stiffened when the priest started his holy mantra. <br><br>

<center><strong><i>	“And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil…”</i></strong></center><br><br>

Small, almost inaudible cackles could be heard from her small son’s body, his shoulder quivering as if he’s holding in some uncontrollable laughter. <br><br>

<center><strong><i>	“…And Satan, which deceiveth the whole world…”</strong></i></center><br><br>

Tremors could be felt on the floorboards of the house. An earthquake? Why was no one reacting? <br><br>

<center><strong><i>	“…He was cast out into the earth…”</strong></i></center><br><br>

The priest took a step closer to her son, his back still hunched, facing away from all of them with his head slightly down and obscured from their sight. The priest held the bottle of holy water above the child’s head, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the child. <br><br>

<center><strong><i>	“…And his angels were cast out with <b>him.</b>”</strong></i></center><br><br>

As the last of the prayer was emphasized, he dumped the entire content of the bottle above her son’s head – the inhumane screech that left his throat after was all the confirmation she needed. The clergymen acted fast, knocking the small boy from where he was sitting and pinning him to the ground. He fought, growling at them, baring what looked to be fangs – looking closer, she can see the area where the holy water made contact with his skin was burned – the water had burned him! Looking up, the young woman noticed the priest looming over her child, as she stayed rooted to her spot, tears spilling onto her cheeks. <i>Please, save him</i>. She gave a silent prayer to her God – <i>please, let him be okay</i>. <br><br>

The priest mumbled a silent prayer, a rosary between his fingers as his eyes locked with the blues of her son’s – unwavering and challenging. Taking a step closer, the priest squatted down to be eye level with the young boy trying to lunge at him. <br><br>

	<i>“Any last words before I vanquish you from this body… Demon?”</i><br><br>

 The priest looked at the young boy in disgust, his rosary and bible adorning his hands, as he was ready to say the last bit of the exorcism. He paused when he heard a dark, almost animalistic cackle in front of him – the kind of noise that sends chills down your very spine. <br><br>

	<i>“This is my body, Father Christopher.” </i><br><br>

The voice said – for that was not her son’s voice. It was a dark, menacing tone laced in teasing sarcasm. The young boy, looked up, slowly leaning forward until he was a few inches away from the priest’s face, an innocent teasing smile plastered on his mouth…

<b><i>	“Go to Hell.”</b></i><br><br>

From the corner of the room, the candle that had been blazing idling flew to the mahogany wood floors, a fire escalating faster than it normally should started to spread around them. The clergymen holding the child let him go, moving to the nearest exit. The young woman looked at her son on the kitchen floor, as he looked up at her, a crazed look on his face as she started to step back in fear. From behind her she heard the panicked shouts of: “the door won’t open!” Turning her head, she saw all the clergymen pulling at her front door and windows with no avail. One had even tried to break the glass – but nothing would budge. No… she was going to die? Turning back to where her son was seated, she gasped in shock. He was nowhere to be seen. Where could he have gone? The fire bordered them in such a small, miniscule vicinity.  She looked around in a panic; everyone was concerned on escaping – even the priest. No, no, no, no, no – this cannot be how she is going to die. In desperation she pushed the other men out of her way and started to claw at the door.<br><br>

<i>“Help! Can anyone hear us?! We’re trapped!”</i> The woman wailed loudly, the fire growing behind her. She felt the licks of the flames caressing her cheek, burning at her skin as she started to cough from the smoke. She kept knocking on the door, each time her fist would make contact it would be weaker and weaker – her body unable to take the poisonous carbon gas that was filling the area. Slowly, she slid down the door, her hand still feebly knocking on the wood as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes were getting heavy, and the pain of the fire on her burned skin stopped hurting  -- burned through the nerves. As her eyes drooped down, she swore she saw the shadow of her son – a hallucination? -- His form stopping in front of her and a shadowy hand moved to caress her cheek, as she closed her eyes for the last time she heard her son’s voice – his innocent and pure voice that sounded like bells in the wind, <i>“It’s time to go to sleep now, Mother.” </i><br><br>

Meanwhile, at the edge of the village where the stone streets meet the lush greens of the forest stood a boy -- his eyes were an azure blue that resembled the lakes in the northern lands and midnight black locks that would make the night sky envious. <br><br>

<center>end, chapter i.</center>


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<quoteblock>

<div style="float:right; text-align:center; width:10px; padding:6px 14px 10px 14px; text-transform:uppercase; font-family:arial narrow; font-weight:lighter; line-height:20px; font-size:14px; border:1px solid #26070b; height:95px; vertical-align: text-top;">mains</div>

<div style="overflow:auto; float:left; padding:5px; border:1px solid #000000; width:228px; height:101px;">

<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=476306" class="first">MESIAH</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=30023" class="first">VEPAR</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=477249" class="first">VISYR</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=370129" class="first">KENNY</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=479115" class="first">BLAIR</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=458462" class="first">PIPPY</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=480374" class="first">CHIS</a>
<a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=480269" class="first">KERBEROS</a>
 <a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/view_profile.php?member_id=469419" class="first">RYKER</a>

</div>
</quoteblock>

<br><br>
<center><a href="http://www.aniroleplay.com/430205">
  <img src="https://i.imgur.com/3oDLLNi.gif" alt="wolfgang">
</a></center>



ABOUT I THINK?

<div style="border:1px; opacity: 0.6; solid #000000;"><img src="http://u.cubeupload.com/cariad/e680e968f5633db66555f3d.png" width="430" height="150"></div>


<h1>Lennox <s>Zenith</s> Noir</h1>
<h3>the devil has blue eyes</h3>


<blockquote>

<big>basic info</big> <strong>pronunciation:</strong> len - necks nuh - war. <Strong>nicknames:</Strong> lenny, lenn, lennard,, zen, nic, nico <strong>date of birth / age: </strong> 08/24, unknown -- appears 25 <strong>species:</strong> unknown, demonic entity <Strong>current residence:</Strong> brooklyn, new york <strong>occupation:</strong> underground contract killer, bouncer <Strong>eye color / hair color: </Strong> black, azure blue <b>personality:</b> monotone, sadistic, easily annoyed <strong>likes:</strong> coffee, chocolate, animals <strong>dislikes:</strong> probably you. <b>fun fact:</b> cerberus is his son.

</blockquote>


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<div style="float:right; text-align:center; width:6px; padding:8px 12px 10px 12px; text-transform:uppercase; font-family:arial narrow; font-weight:lighter; line-height:11px; font-size:10px; border:1px solid #26070b; height:107px; vertical-align: text-top;">love status</div>


<div style="float:right; opacity: 0.4; border:1px solid #000000; margin-right:10px;"><img src="http://u.cubeupload.com/cariad/mesicion4LENN.png" width="106" height="125"></div>


<div style="overflow:auto; float:left; padding:5px; border:1px solid #000000; width:260px; height:115px;">
<b>walking sin without repentance, </b><br>

<span class="dropcap">Y</span>ou're a paradox. We aren't meant to fall in love. You're otherworldly, breathtaking, and my ultimate downfall. I would climb from hell and back just to be by your side -- thank you for always being by my side, listening to me yap about dumb things, being heckin' cute, and just overall accepting me for me. I'd marry you in every lifetime - all over again and again.
</div>
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