Aegis - my super-tall ex-neighbor/drama guy who's always there with a sweet comment, a hug and an opinion on the straightness of my part. We have a shared love for Tori Amos & a sentimental attachment to McDonald's, among other strange mutual possessions. |
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Aphrodite - Sex goddess of the Posse. Has allied herself with Tiger Lily in a mysterious feud and no longer speaks to me. Painful, but bearable. |
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Cranly - really wants to be Sick Boy, but without the heroin addiction. This year he decided to hate me. I wish I knew why. |
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Daniel - once mortal, but had the fortune to fall in love with a beautiful Child of Darkness. He hardly ever looks this much like a cologne ad. |
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Galadrial - my roommate. Kind of a neo-hippie with her flowing skirts, affinity for Klimt & constantly-burning incense. Has a unique & comfortable conception of personal space: not concerned about the small shit, like borrowing CDs and sex in the next room. |
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God In An Alcove - goth god of my high school days. Don't let the aging dye-job throw you...he's about as classic a guy as lingering high-school crushes come. |
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Judith - a writer by trade, an actor by inevitability. I was once her occasional bitch. One of the few second years who continues to talk to me. |
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Lawyer - once quoted Locke's theory of perception to get out of a traffic ticket. A living legend. We took art history classes together so that he'll know what to buy when he's rich. |
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Maharet - high school girl-freeek, a.k.a. Little Spider, she laughs when we get caught in her web of charms. |
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Mr. Blonde - The first major ex-boyf. As soon as he saw me with Trevor, online musings appeared about all the beautiful girls dropping like flies at his feet. (click pic for link) |
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Palaver - member of the elite Tisiphone's Angels. The sex god, of course (although not affiliated with Aphrodite or the Posse pantheon). |
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Pixie Stix - Trevor's younger sister and the freshly-minted bride of Q. The reason why my diary is G-rated from the middle of September to the middle of November. |
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Poet - another member of the smashingly brilliant Tisiphone's Angels. The moody, romantic, misunderstood one. Also the reason I went crazy in second year, and thus the reason I have a tattoo (although Mr. Blonde paid for it.) I like to think that I was partly responsible for his hair turning noticeably gray. We're trying to be friends again, with remarkable success. |
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Preacher - the third & final member of Tisiphone's Angels. He's on a mission from God, and can be very charming when he wants to be. |
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Q - He & Pixie Stix recently tied the knot in an absolutely gorgeous civil ceremony. A gamer, a raver & a secret admirer of 80's cock-rock bands best left forgotten. Not to mention a Yank. But cool nonetheless. *smirk* |
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Sister Sunshine - a beam of kick-ass light in an otherwise tame little rainbow. One day we will marry, although we're still arguing about who will wear the tuxedo. |
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Snag Boy - can usually be caught dancing barefoot. I see him a lot more often than I report. A quiet, but definite force for good in my life. |
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Stacy - by taking our friendship from the online world to the real one, we occupy a very weird place between knowledge & ignorance. But she's neat, so I'm willing to let the weirdness continue. |
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Sven - Happy hirsute poet guy. He's the son of a Bible-belt minister, semi-obsessed with Finnish women & carries a notebook of his poetry & random jottings everywhere. Strides on to the scene dressed like Hell's Angel, but one second of his infectious laugh breaks the spell forever. Was once in crush with Trevor. |
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Tiger Lily - sees all, knows all, reads all. My other Ophelia. We haven't spoken since March, and odd rumors float about which I am forbidden to relate to you, Constant Reader. Probably hates me. Evidence inconclusive. |
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Trevor - older brother of Pixie Stix & Scout. My permanent sweetie. |
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Trotski - poetry-writin', bear-shootin', jazz-listenin', backwoods muthafucka. A big Dolomite fan, and the only cool person I know from T-Bay. Constantly pursued by girls attracted to the beard (not pictured here, of course), the cane, the poetry, the flashy sports coats, the extensive collection of Tom Waits bootlegs & the really big PC monitor. |
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Veronica - she reminds me so strongly of me that I'm certain she's probably destined to follow the English-major path to sloth & alcoholism. But appearances can be deceiving... |
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