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CELENA MARIE KANE doesn't have a custom title currently.
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Alias: Celena
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Character Age: 21
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Degree/Occupation: Music Composition
Character Gender: Female
Joined: 29-July 14
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Aug 25 2014, 02:55 AM
Local Time: Aug 14 2018, 04:12 AM
23 posts (0 per day)
( 0.57% of total forum posts )
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AIM mercurialsoui
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SKYPE serenefire
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Jul 30 2014, 09:00 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 400px; padding: 10px; background: #111; border-top: 5px double #cc0000; border-bottom: #cc0000 5px double"><div style="width: 400px; height: 220px; background-image:url(; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(bottom, #111, rgba(3,3,3,0), rgba(3,3,3,0)), url("></div><div style="font-family: sans serif; font-size: 55px; letter-spacing: -7px; line-height: 102%; color: #555; text-align:center; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; font-weight: bold"> It's Only a Game... </div>
<div style="width: 370px; text-align:justify; font-family:open sans condensed; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #cc0000; line-height: 99%; letter-spacing: 1px"> I'll see you, I'll call you, I'll raise you
But it's no cheap thrill
It will cost you, cost you, cost you
Anything you have to pay. -----------------------------------</div></br><div style="width: 370px; height: 9px; background: #555;-webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px"></div></br><div style="width: 370px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; color: #777; text-align:justify; line-height: 99%">

When you got into as much trouble as Celena did, it always took a little extra effort to get into something truly detrimental – then again the most wickedly perceived acts were normally her favorite ones to indulge in. That night hadn’t exactly been a spur of the moment get together, actually she had gone out of her way to plan a whole lot of what was going to take place. The first step of course was getting people to join her little game of chance, which meant strategically placing invitations around campus. The right people, which as luck would have it were who most might consider the wrong people, would be targeted for their unique dispositions. If they hadn’t proven in one way or another that they were worthy, likely by doing something she approved of, than they simply were not going to get through the door. Some had their invitations slipped beneath their doors, others would find them within their lockers, or wedged beneath the wiper of their car… however it happened they would find themselves invited to a night of debauchery and fun.
Once she had made sure the invitations were out she had gone about arranging the whole evening as she saw fit. Her dorm room was absolutely out of the question, not only because she figured that some of her roommates might object, but because the last person she’d brought there hadn’t exactly been easy to get out. So she had seen to procuring an empty room, which more or less meant she broke into it and took to tidying up and setting up as she saw fit. The main focal point of the room of course was the table, which one might add was a relatively impressive piece of furniture. A large ten person poker table with a leather bumper around the edge, with a bright felt top marked out for the players. Each seat was gifted a round back leather chair, that was situated on a swivel, so despite the size would still be easy to move in and out of… among other things. Chips had been counted out already and placed in their appropriate positions around the table, while multiple decks of cards were situated in the center, still wrapped within their cellophane packaging.
A wet bar had been set up near one corner of the room and stocked with enough liquor to make any bartender whistle in appreciation, but that was not all that was offered. There was also a collection of snack foods that anyone was welcome to indulge in, bite sized morsels that would not hinder the game nor threaten the integrity of the table if they were dropped accidentally. The last aspect of the room was lighting, which was cast upon the room by candlelight primarily as electricity in an abandoned room would simply draw far too much attention. It had taken a good deal of time to make sure every wick was lit and yet she’d managed eventually. The candles would last well through the night and given them more than enough light to see by, besides it kind of set the mood for what would come.
Having spent a good deal of time making sure that the environment was ready she had been forced to set a bit of a reminder for herself to actually primp before anyone began to arrive, but it was well worth it as the reward significantly outweighed the cost spent. Had her plans been anything but strip poker that night she might have opted for a good deal less, but she was betting that she was going to need all the layers she could stomach tonight. Because of that she had started with a lacy dress, which could have been demure if not for the fact that it was completely sheer. Beneath it was not only a black corset but a white lace bra that peeked up above the hemline of the corset’s cups upon the curvature of cleavage. A pair of black boy cut panties were saddled with a black garter belt that matched the corset, long elastic strips reaching down to thigh high black fishnet nylons. The finishing touches were a pair of seven inch heels that near drove her to six feet in height and a collection of necklaces and bracelets that seemed ever present to her wardrobe.
As the alarm on her phone chimed the witching hour she turned it over and grinned. Any moment now that first knock would come at the door and she’d begin to let her party into her temporary lair so that they could all indulge in a little fun – though to be perfectly fair she was hoping she had more fun than most, after all if she didn’t recuperate a little money for all her effort than she might be a little displeased. Then again there were always other alternatives, way to balance out the cost, but that all depended on just how much fun everyone managed to have once their clothes started to come off.

</div></br><div style="width: 370px; height: 9px; background: #555; -webkit-border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 10px"></div></br></div>
<div style="width: 400px; text-align:right"><a href="">ty sophia for this sexy code</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jul 30 2014, 06:57 PM
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<div style=" width: 400px; background-color: #000; color: #ffffff; font-family: open sans condensed; font-size: 13px; padding-top: 30px; padding-bottom: 30px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; ">Celena Marie Kane</div>
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<div style="width: 200px; height: 200px; "><center><div style="width: 198px; height: 200px; font-family: open sans; color: #777777; font-size: 10px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify;">

<a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;"> KANE, CELENA MARIE</div></a>
Filing Cabinet // Application
<br><br><a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;"> Something Wicked This Way Comes </div></a>
Shippers // My own, my precious.
<br><br><a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;"> Sweet Dreams and Sour Mornings</div></a>
Hemera Hall // The morning after with Cyrus (Breezy)
<br><br><a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;"> Making Beautiful Music</div></a>
Academic Buildings // An introduction to Derek (Mitz)
<br><br><a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;">A Haunting Melody</div></a>
Academic Buildings // An introduction to Warren (Ely)
<br><br><a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;">Making the Call</div></a>
Nightlife // A call for help to Luke (Ely)
<br><br><a href=""><div style="color: #THREAD COLOR;">Its Time to Strip</div></a>
Hemera Hall // A strip poker game open to all

<div style=" width: 403px; background-color: #000; color: #ffffff; font-family: open sans condensed; font-size: 12px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; ">Sweet Satisfaction</div>
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Jul 30 2014, 06:10 AM
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A narcotic possession was lingering in her veins -- haunting her mind and body alike until every aspect of the room pained her in some way. Simply a makeshift sanctuary in the bowels of the city, dark and dank in ways that could inspire any novelist to award winning heights. Nothing worked the way that it should and nobody complained. Why? Because this was hell and the people who inhabited it were the demons the bible spoke about. Abandon hope all ye who enter here percolated through her mind as she listened to the water from the faucet drip and explode against the drain below. Auditory rape that grated over her nerves and left her skin crawling. The only thing worse than the sounds were the sights; blistering white light that peeled through the curtains over the window from the motel light beyond to leave a blurred pool of milky white on her floor.
Why couldn't her senses just die out? A night of peace was all that she was after, though she had ruined whatever chance she may have had of getting that. The used syringe had been discarded, lost somewhere on the floor, though the bloody ruin of its use still beamed triumphantly upon the inside of her thigh. Once an addict, always an addict. She had to feed the itch inside her for one or the other -- sex had always been the easiest urge to silence it was medicinal vices that seemed to elude her. Not tonight though, tonight she had plenty to satiate her urges. Time was a dirty Mistress and she was always making her wait.
Coiling up on that bed, writhing into the loving embrace of sweat stained sheets, she buried her cheek deep into a pillow; mouthing sweet nothings from her sleep drained reverie, disposed from her lips into the awaiting fabric as her lashes flexed in mourning over dying eyes. Just a temporary death, those aquatic eyes never really abandoned their world, she just needed to sleep. God please let me sleep. The interstate pressed over her shoulders, sounds building up through her mind, little whispers that made her head scream in agonizing pain. How could she sleep? Tossing, that canopy of lashes reeled open once more, finding her way to a new angle.
Broken down doll was little more than a mess of naked limbs and dick drumming curves. Adorned in little more than a tank top and her underwear at this point she still felt too hot… everything stuck to her skin and further frustrated her. Tossing once more she found herself staring at her phone, almost willing it to life before a lethargic hand reached to collect it. Who would she call at this point? There was only one person she could think of off the top of her head. Dialing Luke’s number she’d wait until she heard him, then she’d quickly shush him before he could add to the throbbing in her head. “Luke… hush… I need your help. I can’t sleep… I’m at the motel.” The motel, there was only one motel she could be talking about, without another word she simply hung up… hoping he would take the hint. </div>


<td><div style="width:89px;height:20px; background-color: #0f0f0f; padding: 5px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-family:Voltaire; font-size: 20px; border:0.5px dotted #fff;">Luke</div></td>

<td><div style="width:89px;height:20px; background-color: #0f0f0f; padding: 5px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-family:Voltaire; font-size: 20px; border:0.5px dotted #fff;">534</div></td>
<td><div style="width:89px;height:20px; background-color: #0f0f0f; padding: 5px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-family:Voltaire; font-size: 20px; border:0.5px dotted #fff;">Scandalous</div></td></table>

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Jul 30 2014, 05:41 AM
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It was round nine in the evening when Celena finally sat down behind the piano within one of the campus practice rooms. Not only had the rooms been relatively active throughout the day, limiting their use, but she didn’t exactly enjoy putting herself on display when it came to her music. While she was accustomed to being the center of attention in many ways, she still had a small semblance of insecurity when it came to her compositions and performing them – not that she would ever admit that out loud. With that in mind she had made sure that all the practice rooms were empty before finally situating herself upon the worn wooden bench. With a slow breath she ran her hands over the keys, feeling the way the resin slid beneath each digit before she simply smiled.
Not many things could give her peace, but this was certainly one of them. Shrugging her way out of her leather jacket she tossed the article aside before rolling her shoulders only to feel the invasive dig of her bra straps in the process. Breathing out heavily she allowed her shoulders to drop before she settled her hands over the keys once more. Hesitating any longer was only going to make matters worse, besides she needed this, it was a little like therapy and frankly when you had as many mental demons running through your head as Celena did, you needed all the therapy you could get. Without a moment to waste she depressed the weight of her fingers upon the keys and began to play.
The melody was a familiar one for her and for many others she might have suspected, though she had changed a few chords and progressions to suit her sensibilities and to fit the acoustic flow. As soon as the first chord struck she found herself singing along with the song, adding words to the tempo that she’d sung probably a dozen or more times before now and yet that didn’t affect the emotional content involved one bit. The weight of every word could be felt as though the syllables had been woven together with every tribulation she had to endure throughout her lifetime. As she continued the song only grew increasingly haunting as she gave herself over to the music entirely.
Every last feature shifted unabashed as she closed her eyes and simply let the song flow from her fingertips and lips alike. The content of the song was not lost to her by any stretch of the imagination, singing of an addict so beyond control that she had resorted to the bitter cold of the world, it was a route she knew full well that she was on and yet in most circumstances she simply didn’t care. Still as she performed the song for herself in that practice room it seemed as though she understood every last risk and more over that she dreaded them.
Assuming still that the building was empty by this point she hadn’t bothered to close the door or reserve her volume. With every verse she allowed her capacity to crescendo, carrying through the room and beyond. In the back of her mind she knew the sound was carrying, she could hear the faint echo from the halls and yet it never occurred to her that anything would come of it. As far as she was aware the only person close enough to hear her, was her, so there was no need to hold back now and she didn’t.

</div></div></div><div style="width: 300px; height: 40px; background-color: #141213; padding: 50px;"> <div style="font-family: 'Wire One', sans-serif; font-size: 35px; color:#FFF; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 100%;"> Stuck in a Daydream </div><div style="font-family: 'Roboto Condensed', sans-serif; color:#FFF; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 110%;">

Warren | 588 |

</div></div><div style="width: 300px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 7px;"><a href="">♔ nickdiazfan</a></div></center>
Jul 30 2014, 03:47 AM
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The number of nights that Celena had simply misplaced were too numerous to count, most of the time however they came and went without much of a hitch. The previous night was bound to be one of those nights, she’d simply set it up that way. She’d begun with a tiny little pill and let things spiral out of control from there. Somewhere around the third or fourth bottle service she had completely lost track of the evening, which left at least five or six hours unaccounted for. Luckily when she stirred to life the sights and scents that engulfed her were relatively familiar… at least familiar enough not to set off any alarms. The rumpled sheets were her own, that perfect deteriorated shade of blue that had once been perfectly cobalt, before being washed a few dozen times. A quick turn among them resulted in an equally acquainted squeak of her bedframe, which only served to further put her mind at rest.
Convinced she was home and that the night hadn’t ended tragically she pulled the sheets up higher upon her shoulder only to freeze the moment she heard something startling. It wasn’t that it was uncommon for her to hear people rummaging about her dorm, quite the contrary in fact, what was disturbing was that she didn’t remember coming home with anyone the night before. Frozen in place she stared off at the wall nearby, trying to replay the night in her mind and yet every time she attempted to set the reel the frames seemed to garble and disappear round about three in the morning. Sure she remembered a guy or two, alright probably more like five, but she couldn’t think of one in particular that she had spent a significant amount of time with.
How bad could it really be? That was the question that finally sedated her, allowing her to relax just enough to climb out of bed. Planting her feet on the floor she inwardly groaned as her soles slid naked over the laminate; apparently whomever she had come home with she’d gone far enough to peel away the thigh highs and boots… what else was she missing? A little start had her hands jumping to her body to touch upon cotton. Cotton? Tugging on the shirt she pulled it out away from her body and stared down at it in obvious disbelief. Who on Earth did this belong to? Judging by the size of it, it had to belong to the mystery man. Great, so she’d lost her clothes somewhere throughout the night, then replaced them with his shirt… this was really shaping out to be a bit more disturbing than she had originally thought.
Standing up at long last she pushed her hands through the mess of platinum blonde hair that sat atop her head, giving her scalp a good rake of her nails as she headed in the direction of the noise. Why couldn’t he have just gotten up and left? That was the responsible thing to do when you had a one night stand, wasn’t it? Rounding the corner she paused, dropping her arms fully, and allowing her shoulders to sink as she stared vacantly at the man’s back. “What are you doing?” Before she could even think it through she opened her mouth and called him out on his inappropriate behavior. Even if he didn’t know that common courtesy when it came to a dirty romp was to leave before your partner woke up, he should have known you don’t go through someone’s kitchen, least of all their fridge.
“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” There was a little disbelief in her tone, twisting the normally succulent syllables into an accusation of sorts. The unstated, anywhere but here, was heavily implied. At least she was being relatively polite, for her, and not just kicking him out. At the very least she had thought she should get his name, but then that was before she caught him going through her food. Now she just wanted to kick him out and get on with her day… which one might add consisted of crawling back into bed and sleeping until the sun went down.

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skinned by mia for dance in the dark only!