Sue #13
TITLE: Crepusculum Stella: Twilight Star
PERPETRATOR: Silver-Serval
FANDOM: Twilight
SUMMARY: Bella never existed, but Stellar did. Stellar moves to Forks after her parents disappear. Stellar herself in not ‘alright’, though not clumsy, she’s not very sociable either. Only when the handsome boy in her lunch hour catches her eye does she ever feel like she’ll fit in... But, wait... ‘How did he know I was thinking that?!’
RATED: T
STATUS: In-Progress
NAME: Stellar Asuran
SPECIES: Human
HAIR: "silver-blue" bangs
EYES: Not mentioned.
ORIGIN: Los Angeles
CANON CONNECTIONS:
SPECIAL TALENTS/ABILITIES: She cuts herself. Because her cat died. *dies from twisted amusement and disbelief*
FEATURES/MARKINGS: on her wrist there are "thin, white scars lined the creases in skin, hiding easily in the bends. A few lined further down my arm"
NOTABLE POSSESSIONS: a white kitten named Wish, a "tortoiseshell tabby" named Kinslayer, "Egyptian mau" named Ever Dream, a cat named Stargazer,
NOTES: Ah, our first Twilight-Sue. It was bound to happen.
I'm sorry, but is it wrong I had this horrible urge to burst out giggling after her cat died? It wasn't cause the cat was dead (I actually felt bad for the poor kitty) but because of how she reacted. Twit this sue is.
There's some bonus Sue-friends that scare me with their names... Exchange Bella for Stellar and add even more Sue-qualities and bingo, there you are.
SAMPLE:
Reading lab passed in a blur. All I really remember was that I took a test which insisted that I was reading around 110 lines per minutes; after that, we read some interesting articles on money and it’s history.
Let me tell you one interesting thing - you never want to pay through the nose. I didn’t need a new slit in my nose, thanks. You might want one, but that’s totally up to you!
English rushed by in a quick paced blur of sounds and colors as well. And, unluckily, I managed to be sat right behind Riley. After sitting for nearly an hour behind an idiot who happened to be overly friendly, I was completely over-joyed to find out that my next hour, my last hour, was a free hour. Meaning in short? I could go home now! But first, I had to drop off my sheet that was signed by all my teachers in the office.
I opened the door in a gust of icy wind. I recognized Edward Cullen by his tousled bronze hair as he argue with Ms. Meyrin in his low, attractive voice. He didn’t appear to notice me, but Ms. Meyrin sure did - she briefly smiled before resuming listening to Edward.
He was asking - practically begging - to trade both fifth-hour Chemistry and seventh-hour English to another hour - any other hour. It hurt to believe that this was all about me and my moving here - and that’s why I forced myself to admit that something had obviously happened before, probably in fourth or third hour. Maybe in fifth-hour before I walked into the room. I refused to imagine why he wanted to trade seventh-hour English, too. He had absolutely no reason to hate me yet!
Just then, an aid walked through the door, the cold and icy wind following in her wake. Edward froze and turned his head slightly in my direction, back uncannily stiffened.
For one brief second, I was filled with genuine fear as his hate-filled, piercing coal-black eyes caught my ice-colored blue. He turned back to her, voice velvety. "Never mind, then. I can see that it’s impossible this late in the year, but thank you for trying." And with a curt nod to the both of us, he seemed to glide past me and left.
Ms. Meyrin smiled cheerfully at me - I got the feeling she would make a wonderful mother some day, "Have a good day today, dear?"
"Yeah," I lied, passing her the signed paper. "A perfect day, thanks." My face showed calm, but my stomach churned with inner distress and fear - I had learn to keep all emotions secret after my birth parent’s deaths, especially after they day they died, the day after my school’s multiple shooting.
"Welcome, sweetheart. See you tomorrow."
I nodded, backing out of the room. The cold December air hit me like a hammer as soon as I shut the door. Coughing roughly, I froze, breath caught in my lungs, and dropped to my knees, hands clenching my sides until the fiery pain subsided. When I reopened my eyes, blood flecks stained the wet cement of the sidewalk below me. As I watched, they spread out into the wet traces of the concrete where the rain had hit it.
A low moan. I struggled to my feet, scrambling in the general direction of my twnty-one speed. Halfway there, I froze again, exhaling sharply. The breath came out as puff of white cloud. Icarus watched me with silent, distressed blue-green eyes. Then, the motioned me closer with a tight-lipped, worried smile.
"I’m car pooling today, Mors. Store the bike in the back of my van and we can go."
"W-what?" I stared at Icarus, incredulous. "Say what now?"
"I see a lot more than you give me credit. And it probably, what, a twenty minute ride to your new home? You mentioned it was by the ocean earlier; humor me, Mors."
At that exact moment, before I could stutter out an answer, Ozymandias slipped out fo the double doors behind Icarus. It must have been a routine thing, for when he inhaled silently, she spun around.
"Hey, Oz!"
A dejected sigh. "Humor me, just once, Ic. I’m coming out a new door tomorrow," Ozymandias was frowning slightly as he said this, but I ignored the look of rejection he gave Icarus.
"Ic," I said questionably.
"He thinks Icarus is a guy’s name, and then, once he looked up Mori, he refused to call me that... So he chose Ic. Pretty lame, huh? I needed a new name, as if ‘Iggy’s sis’ wasn’t good enough." At this point, Oz looked pleased, and I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of hold Icarus had a hold of Ozymandias’ heart. Icarus scowled and dug around in her pockets for a key to open the back of her midnight blue van. It seemed that she’d gotten tired of waiting for me to do it.
"Stealing bicycles now, Ic? That’s a sin!" He faked a gasp, still grinning crookedly, dark eyes glimmering with mirth.
Icarus continued to scowl and turned to me to say in a loud stage whisper, "Ignore him, I heard he feeds pigeons after dark!"
I grinned, Oz faked another gasp, and Icarus attempted to shove the last of the bike into the carpeted back of the van. We traded grins, the three of us, waved farewell, and Icarus and I got into the van, leaving Ozymandias to go find his truck.
We rode home in mostly silence, only the radio kept it from being totally quiet. Only once did Icarus speak, mostly to explain that she’d bought the van from a hippie who’d known her father. The carpet was real and when she really wanted to, she could remove the top of the van. Later that night, after finishing my homework, I locked myself away in the bathroom, pulling the wrist wraps bearing the logo of my favorite bands from my wrists, the sadness of the previous night engulfing me in inexplicable sorrow.
On my right wrist, thin, white scars lined the creases in skin, hiding easily in the bends. A few lined further down my arm, but they were easily explained to be cat scratches - I did have enough temperamental cats for that excuse. My left wrist was unscathed.
Taking my trusty razor, I traced the blade over my left wrist. W. The lines faded away much sooner than I’d hoped they would, but I pressed down again, deeper this time. The blood oozed from the cuts as my body began automatically fighting away infection that threatened to take hold of the wound.
I smirked. With a sense of twisted relief, I was happy again. That would never fade. Soon, Wish would be imprinted upon my body forever with the rest of my mistakes. From now on, Wish would never be able to fade from me, body, memory, or blood.
That night, I think I cried myself to sleep.
PERPETRATOR: Silver-Serval
FANDOM: Twilight
SUMMARY: Bella never existed, but Stellar did. Stellar moves to Forks after her parents disappear. Stellar herself in not ‘alright’, though not clumsy, she’s not very sociable either. Only when the handsome boy in her lunch hour catches her eye does she ever feel like she’ll fit in... But, wait... ‘How did he know I was thinking that?!’
RATED: T
STATUS: In-Progress
NAME: Stellar Asuran
SPECIES: Human
HAIR: "silver-blue" bangs
EYES: Not mentioned.
ORIGIN: Los Angeles
CANON CONNECTIONS:
SPECIAL TALENTS/ABILITIES: She cuts herself. Because her cat died. *dies from twisted amusement and disbelief*
FEATURES/MARKINGS: on her wrist there are "thin, white scars lined the creases in skin, hiding easily in the bends. A few lined further down my arm"
NOTABLE POSSESSIONS: a white kitten named Wish, a "tortoiseshell tabby" named Kinslayer, "Egyptian mau" named Ever Dream, a cat named Stargazer,
NOTES: Ah, our first Twilight-Sue. It was bound to happen.
I'm sorry, but is it wrong I had this horrible urge to burst out giggling after her cat died? It wasn't cause the cat was dead (I actually felt bad for the poor kitty) but because of how she reacted. Twit this sue is.
There's some bonus Sue-friends that scare me with their names... Exchange Bella for Stellar and add even more Sue-qualities and bingo, there you are.
SAMPLE:
Reading lab passed in a blur. All I really remember was that I took a test which insisted that I was reading around 110 lines per minutes; after that, we read some interesting articles on money and it’s history.
Let me tell you one interesting thing - you never want to pay through the nose. I didn’t need a new slit in my nose, thanks. You might want one, but that’s totally up to you!
English rushed by in a quick paced blur of sounds and colors as well. And, unluckily, I managed to be sat right behind Riley. After sitting for nearly an hour behind an idiot who happened to be overly friendly, I was completely over-joyed to find out that my next hour, my last hour, was a free hour. Meaning in short? I could go home now! But first, I had to drop off my sheet that was signed by all my teachers in the office.
I opened the door in a gust of icy wind. I recognized Edward Cullen by his tousled bronze hair as he argue with Ms. Meyrin in his low, attractive voice. He didn’t appear to notice me, but Ms. Meyrin sure did - she briefly smiled before resuming listening to Edward.
He was asking - practically begging - to trade both fifth-hour Chemistry and seventh-hour English to another hour - any other hour. It hurt to believe that this was all about me and my moving here - and that’s why I forced myself to admit that something had obviously happened before, probably in fourth or third hour. Maybe in fifth-hour before I walked into the room. I refused to imagine why he wanted to trade seventh-hour English, too. He had absolutely no reason to hate me yet!
Just then, an aid walked through the door, the cold and icy wind following in her wake. Edward froze and turned his head slightly in my direction, back uncannily stiffened.
For one brief second, I was filled with genuine fear as his hate-filled, piercing coal-black eyes caught my ice-colored blue. He turned back to her, voice velvety. "Never mind, then. I can see that it’s impossible this late in the year, but thank you for trying." And with a curt nod to the both of us, he seemed to glide past me and left.
Ms. Meyrin smiled cheerfully at me - I got the feeling she would make a wonderful mother some day, "Have a good day today, dear?"
"Yeah," I lied, passing her the signed paper. "A perfect day, thanks." My face showed calm, but my stomach churned with inner distress and fear - I had learn to keep all emotions secret after my birth parent’s deaths, especially after they day they died, the day after my school’s multiple shooting.
"Welcome, sweetheart. See you tomorrow."
I nodded, backing out of the room. The cold December air hit me like a hammer as soon as I shut the door. Coughing roughly, I froze, breath caught in my lungs, and dropped to my knees, hands clenching my sides until the fiery pain subsided. When I reopened my eyes, blood flecks stained the wet cement of the sidewalk below me. As I watched, they spread out into the wet traces of the concrete where the rain had hit it.
A low moan. I struggled to my feet, scrambling in the general direction of my twnty-one speed. Halfway there, I froze again, exhaling sharply. The breath came out as puff of white cloud. Icarus watched me with silent, distressed blue-green eyes. Then, the motioned me closer with a tight-lipped, worried smile.
"I’m car pooling today, Mors. Store the bike in the back of my van and we can go."
"W-what?" I stared at Icarus, incredulous. "Say what now?"
"I see a lot more than you give me credit. And it probably, what, a twenty minute ride to your new home? You mentioned it was by the ocean earlier; humor me, Mors."
At that exact moment, before I could stutter out an answer, Ozymandias slipped out fo the double doors behind Icarus. It must have been a routine thing, for when he inhaled silently, she spun around.
"Hey, Oz!"
A dejected sigh. "Humor me, just once, Ic. I’m coming out a new door tomorrow," Ozymandias was frowning slightly as he said this, but I ignored the look of rejection he gave Icarus.
"Ic," I said questionably.
"He thinks Icarus is a guy’s name, and then, once he looked up Mori, he refused to call me that... So he chose Ic. Pretty lame, huh? I needed a new name, as if ‘Iggy’s sis’ wasn’t good enough." At this point, Oz looked pleased, and I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of hold Icarus had a hold of Ozymandias’ heart. Icarus scowled and dug around in her pockets for a key to open the back of her midnight blue van. It seemed that she’d gotten tired of waiting for me to do it.
"Stealing bicycles now, Ic? That’s a sin!" He faked a gasp, still grinning crookedly, dark eyes glimmering with mirth.
Icarus continued to scowl and turned to me to say in a loud stage whisper, "Ignore him, I heard he feeds pigeons after dark!"
I grinned, Oz faked another gasp, and Icarus attempted to shove the last of the bike into the carpeted back of the van. We traded grins, the three of us, waved farewell, and Icarus and I got into the van, leaving Ozymandias to go find his truck.
We rode home in mostly silence, only the radio kept it from being totally quiet. Only once did Icarus speak, mostly to explain that she’d bought the van from a hippie who’d known her father. The carpet was real and when she really wanted to, she could remove the top of the van. Later that night, after finishing my homework, I locked myself away in the bathroom, pulling the wrist wraps bearing the logo of my favorite bands from my wrists, the sadness of the previous night engulfing me in inexplicable sorrow.
On my right wrist, thin, white scars lined the creases in skin, hiding easily in the bends. A few lined further down my arm, but they were easily explained to be cat scratches - I did have enough temperamental cats for that excuse. My left wrist was unscathed.
Taking my trusty razor, I traced the blade over my left wrist. W. The lines faded away much sooner than I’d hoped they would, but I pressed down again, deeper this time. The blood oozed from the cuts as my body began automatically fighting away infection that threatened to take hold of the wound.
I smirked. With a sense of twisted relief, I was happy again. That would never fade. Soon, Wish would be imprinted upon my body forever with the rest of my mistakes. From now on, Wish would never be able to fade from me, body, memory, or blood.
That night, I think I cried myself to sleep.