Your first subject

View previous topic View next topic Go down

Your first subject

Post by Admin on Sun Dec 20, 2015 8:27 pm

Take some time to read this information before starting to use the administration of your forum:

How to access your administration panel ?
In the top menu, click on Log In, a new page is displayed. Fill in the username "admin" and the password you have choosen during your registration. If you have lost or forgot it, click here. Once you are logged in, click on the link "Administration Panel" at the bottom of the page.

How to modify your board's appearance ?
You can modify your board's appearance by choosing a theme (each theme displays different pictures, colors and icons). To do that, go to the administration panel, then click on Management in the Styles Admin menu and choose one of the displayed themes. You can later change it or choose another one.

How to manage the categories and forums ?
You can add, modify and delete the categories and forums that you have created anytime and without limit. To do that, go to the administration panel, in the management part of the Forum Admin, and click on "Add a link" (a forum or a category). In a first time, we advice you to create test categories and test forums that you will delete later, in order to understand how this tool works.

Admin
Admin

Posts : 7
Join date : 2015-12-20

View user profile http://testing.aktiv-forum.com

Back to top Go down

test

Post by Admin on Mon Jan 04, 2016 10:39 am

Despite the fact that Evangeline was a devout Christian and a one of the Almighty’s selected few, an archangel, she was not all too fond of the holidays. What annoyed her the most, though, was the present day interpretation of Christmas. During her mortal years, when the notion of Christianity was first starting to spread across the world, Christ’s birth was a sacred day, one of thanks and awe. It had been humbling, knowing that God had given the world a savior, who had later died so that they might have everlasting life. In her day, Christmas had been a day of celebration, yes, but of a miracle birth – not of all the current and rather muted concepts of the holiday. Perhaps it was her age showing, or how she had been brought up, but Evangeline believed that Christmas needed to be reserved for the miracle child who had been born then, not to other pagan practices or entities. For the longest time, she believed that the addition of the fir tree in the holiday a disgrace, an ugly lie wrapped up in a pagan Yule tradition. She didn’t approve of those who decorated their homes with laurel or other winter foliage, and, while she could admit that Saint Nicholas was an honorable Christian man (after all, she had named one of her own sons a version of the name), the holiday was not about him or his generosity. It was about their Savior.

Over the course of the centuries that she had been alive, the church had become more and more accepting of such practices. Suddenly Christmas trees decorated in tensile in homes were the norm, as were tacky yard and home decorations, and Saint Nicholas had been converted from a giving Christian priest to a fat, bearded man called Santa who gave enormous amount of presents to “good” children. It had happened gradually, over many, many years, but before long, Christmas as she knew it had become a thing of the past, replaced by blatant commercialism and greed. Disgusting. Evangeline had much preferred to spend those days in Heaven, unless of course she was specifically told to be on Earth for a mission. Moreover, it was during this time, a time to celebrate love and happiness, that she missed her family all the more, from both her mortal life and afterward. Being among her kind had helped her cope with the sadness and remind her, when she was particularly mournful, what the time of year was truly about.

Her attitude about Christmas had changed drastically little over four years ago, however.

Upon meeting Sascha and falling in love again for the first time in nearly five hundred years, some of her stricter Christian beliefs had softened some, but it wasn’t until Rhys was born that the woman had embraced every aspect of modern Christmastime. Even his first Christmas, when he was little more than a couple months old, was an extravagant one. There was a giant nine foot tree in their living room, laden with the prettiest ornaments and baubles Evangeline could find. There had been stacks of presents under the tree, as well as professionally made Christmas photos and a very big and rich Christmas dinner – though, admittedly, Sascha did most of the cooking, seeing as she had had to take care of the baby. In addition to all the festivities she’d once thought of as foolish, though, she had taken the time to sit down with her infant son and tell him the story of Christ’s birth, while she gently rocked him to sleep. The tradition had continued and this particular Christmas Eve was no different.

Taking a break from the cooking preparations that would become their Christmas dinner the following day, Evangeline sat down on the couch, glad for the chance to take a short reprieve. The day had been a long one, full of two separate church services and an emergency trip to the grocery store. And she still had a sink full of dishes to wash, but while Sascha was upstairs giving their son a bath, she could take a quick breather. Plus it would soon be the little boy’s bedtime and she would have to set aside some time to read to him and tuck him in. Undoubtedly, Rhys was excited for the very special holiday, like any child his age, so Evangeline suspected it would take a while before her little one would be ready to fall asleep. Further, she still had some more presents to wrap and slip under the tree before Rhys would wake up in the early morning, eager to see what Santa had brought.

Not for the first time, as the archangel looked about her home, she marveled at how much her life had changed in a few short years. After mourning the loss of loved ones in the past, Evangeline had never thought that she would find love again, let alone have another child. It had been hard enough for her to carry to term her first two sons and the mourning after she found out about their deaths… That had been ones of the most trying and hardest times of her mortal life. And Aleksander’s death…. Well, that was another matter entirely. She’d learned the hard way that falling in love with a mortal could only end in heartbreak and, though she had tried to harden her heart to love, it had managed to find her again in Sascha. And when little Rhys came along, a miracle itself seeing as she was immortal and her husband not, the archangel felt the familiar warm feelings that accompanied a family – a love at its deepest and purest form, for the first time in centuries. Of course the loss of her past two families had left an ugly scar on her heart, one that would never truly heal, but when she looked at her present family, however small it might be, she couldn’t help but think that her loved ones in Heaven her looking on with affection and understanding.

Heaving a sigh, she stood up and crossed the living room, where their tall, yet rather skinny, tree stood. A small smile pulled at her lips. In previous Christmases, she and Sascha had preferred a fuller tree, but this year they had taken Rhys to the fir tree farm with them and had allowed him to choose the tree. And, so, they left with a tree that very nearly touched the ceiling, leaving little room for the fiber-optic star to be affixed on top, but one skinny enough that they could’ve stuck it in the backseat of the car, should they have felt so inclined. It was flawless, despite its imperfections, simply because her boy had seen the beauty in it when they had not. Reaching down, she flipped a switch near the electric socket and the tree lit up in multi-colored lights. Again, another of Rhys’ ideas. She preferred simple white lights, but he insisted that the colored ones – particularly if they blinked or changed color – were much more fun.

They had gotten the tree over two weeks ago and, just as soon as they got it home, her boy had insisted on decorating it. Eager to help, he’d wanted to hang as many ornaments as possible. Evangeline had let him place a few of the sturdier ones himself, but the more breakable ones had been reserved for herself and her husband. Plus, there were a few very special ornaments only she would place, high enough on the tree to be out of reach of her little one’s hands or clear of any shenanigans that might occur near the tree. Gazing at the fir, she managed to catch sight of a small, bronze ornament. It hung heavy on the tree, causing the branch to dip some, but the archangel smiled before gently reaching out to trace the intricate design - two laurel branches intertwined. She’d paid the artist enough to make such a thing, but it was beautiful, the detailing so delicately done that she could even see the veins on some of the leaves. The ornament represented her homeland, Greece, as well as all she gained and lost during her mortal lifetime. Her heart gave an uncomfortable wrench, thinking about her eldest sons Christos and Nikolaos. Though they had been gone from her for centuries, and though she could visit them on occasion in Heaven, her heart still longed to hold them, flesh and body, in her arms again. They were just boys when they were called Home, babies really, in the grand scheme of things. She had wondered, more times then she could count, what they would have been like when they were older, if they would have found love of their own and had families. A sheen of mist filled her eyes, but the woman blinked them back. They were in Paradise, where they belonged. Happy. She needn’t mourn for them. At least her head told her as much, but her heart kept betraying her.

Her eyes found another bauble she’d had specially made, which was made largely of paper, but was held sturdy by carefully concealed cardboard. It was a small replica of a Bible, opened in the middle to reveal her favorite verse embossed on authentic parchment. This ornament represented one of the major missions God had sent her on over the course of her immortal lifespan, the first in fact, and coincidentally when she had met Aleksander. Convinced that she would shed the tears that brimmed in her eyes should she dwell on it, she circled the tree until she found another, more modern, ornament. It, too, looked to be made of brass, though it was only a finish. A happy couple danced, surrounded by a golden heart. Her and Sascha. Close to that was one of an infant in a bassinet, the year 1996 printed at the bottom, when Rhys was born. There were so many years, so many memories, laden on one, skinny little tree. Evangeline supposed now she could understand why mortals had grown so fond of the tradition.

It had been at that moment that she heard heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor, Sascha, as well as the amused peals of laughter from her little boy. When the pair emerged into the living room, Rhys was on his father’s back, both wearing twin smiles of amusement. She knew that Sascha had likely been running around with their son on his back, just to draw an infectious laugh from their little one, and that became more than obvious when, just after her husband stopped in his tracks, Rhys piped up, “Again, again!”

Sascha chuckled. “No, I don’t think so, buddy. This horse is getting tired.” Kneeling down, he let Rhys slide off his back. “Besides, I think it’s about time for someone to get ready for bed. At least if he wants Santa to come.” Standing back up, he winked at his wife, before disappearing and heading toward the kitchen.

Rhys pouted then, disappointed with the prospect of going to bed. He looked to his mother then, doe eyed and piteous, wondering if she would think differently. It was an unhealthy habit he was gaining, pitting one parent against the other. If she said no to something, he would then go to his father and inquire about the same rule or dictate and, more often than not, Sascha let him get away with the things she didn’t allow – whether he meant to or not. She’d sat her boy down and explained that he couldn’t do such things, that if she told him to do (or not do) something, that it was final, but they were still working on completely breaking the little boy of the habit. Normally, she would scold him, but tonight he looked so adorable, dressed in Christmas pajamas and hair still damp and spiky from his recent bath, that she couldn’t bring herself to.

“Papa’s right,” she eventually agreed, “It’s getting late, but I think that we might have time for a story before bed.” Her voice sounded weary, reminiscent.

Rhys had perked up at the mention of a bedtime story. He loved listening to the stories she told, which were more often than not from the Children’s Bible she had given him for his third birthday last year. But his enthusiasm quickly vanished and he cocked his head to the side, little brow furrowed and brown eyes troubled. “Are you okay, Mama? You sound sad.”

There were times, such as now, when Evangeline marveled at her little ones empathy for others. He was able to interpret, at the tender age of four, the emotions of others rather easily. It was something that she hoped to continue to foster in him as he grew older, a trait that would make him an admirable angel one day. Yes, Evangeline had known the moment she knew of her pregnancy that the child she bore would carry angelic traits and she desired nothing more than for him to pursue such an ambition, to live to be all that he possibly could. And with such potential, he certainly could do great things if he devoted himself to God’s will. Rhys was still very young and had yet to start showing the signs of his angelic heritage, but Evangeline knew that the time would come, sooner rather than later, that she would have to reveal to him what they were, what was expected of them. But, for the moment, she wanted him to maintain his childhood innocence for as long as possible, without the worry of concealing himself or the weight of responsibility.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she gave him a warm, genuine smile, touched by his concern. “No, love. I’m not sad, just a little tired is all.” She chuckled, “I might be following you to bed before too long.”

Rhys joined her by the tree then, taking in the fine specimen he’d picked out and they’d worked so hard to make beautiful. “Are we gonna leave the tree on for Santa?” he asked, looking up at her.

Evangeline always turned the tree off before going to sleep, for fear it would be a fire hazard, but she supposed she could make an exception tonight, seeing as it was Christmas Eve. Smirking, she acquiesced. “Well, I’m sure he would like to see the prettiest Christmas tree in all the world…”

Rhys nodded vigorously in agreement. “Right! ‘Sides, Santa needs some light to see when he comes down the chimney, cause if not he’ll trip.”

Evangeline couldn’t help but laugh at his childish logic. “When you’re right, you’re right,” she agreed.

At that moment, Rhys’ eyes brightened with excitement. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Quick as a whistle, he turned on his heel and ran toward the foyer, where a coat rack was built onto the wall. On tippy toes, he reached up and pushed on the bottom of his backpack, lifting it off the hook; it fell to the floor easily. He dug around it for the moment, even though Evangeline knew it contained nothing more than a folder with some artwork and a report concerning how he’d acted during the day, which more often than not ironically involved the word “angel.” Well, mostly. She was surprised when he pulled out a little trinket and came running back to her, a proud smile bedecking his face. “I made this for you at school, Mama.”

“Oh?” Evangeline took the object from him and, upon inspection, found out that it was a handmade ornament to hang on the tree, made of popsicle sticks and pom-poms to look like a reindeer. It was stuck together with hot glue, so she knew that it had been a class project, where his teacher helped but just the fact that her son had made it with his own two hands was enough to make it more than special. Moreover, this was the first ornament she’d have on the tree that he’d made. She didn’t like the idea of her boy leaving to go to preschool four times a week, even if it was just only five hours at a time. In fact, she’d flat our refused to consider it when Sascha brought it up back in September. Rhys was a lively child, prone to getting himself into trouble or taking risks when she wasn’t around, and then there was the added fact that his angelic traits would manifest eventually. What if something akin to that happened while he was away from her? He would hardly know what to do or be able to comprehend what was happening to him! But eventually Sascha had worn her down, rationalizing it by claiming that he needed to spend more time with other kids and that he’d get a head start on the subject he’d study later on. Still… Evangeline knew that she wouldn’t budge on the issue of homeschooling him next year; it was much too dangerous and very risky, all things considered. But perhaps an after-school activity wouldn’t hurt matters.

“Do you like it?” Rhys asked, rocking on his heels and beaming up at her hopefully. “I made it all by myself!” he added, boastful, before hesitating a moment. “Well, Ms. Adams helped a little bit.” He held his thumb and forefinger up close together, showing her just how little roll the teacher played before continuing, “But I did most of it.”

“Well, I think it’s about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Evangeline replied, her words honest. Anything her little boy made was precious. “And such a pretty, special ornament deserves a special place on the tree, don’t you think?”

Again, the little boy nodded vigorously. With a chuckle, Evangeline picked him up and placed him on her hip before handing him the ornament. “Here. You made the ornament, dear, so you should get to place it where it belongs.”

His eyes scanned the tree, taking such a decision very seriously before he reached out and, very carefully, placed it on a branch - one that already had a bunch of ornaments surrounding it, making it look clustered. Rhys looked up, “Is that good?”

“It’s perfect,” the archangel assured, before kissing his cheek. Setting him back down on his feet, she gestured him toward the stairs. “I want you to go on up and get ready for bed, alright? I’ll be up in just a minute and then we’ll read a story.”

Dutifully, her son nodded and did as he was told. Evangeline exhaled, glad that she was spared from the usual argument that accompanied bed time, but she supposed that the knowledge that it was Christmas Eve was what compelled him to go willingly. After all, Santa wouldn’t come so long as he was up and awake!

Knowing that she had a few minutes to herself, Evangeline left the living room and headed into the kitchen, thinking that she could at least get started on some of the washing. To her surprise, though, Sascha was already at the sink, water and bubbles full to the brim. “You didn’t have to do that,” she admonished gently, though she was a little relieved. Since she had more presents to wrap before bed, knowing that the dishes were done would be a load off her mind. Sascha had teased her on more than one occasion that it wouldn’t hurt the dishes to be in the sink overnight, but the archangel couldn’t go to sleep knowing there was a chore that needed to be done.

Her husband glanced over his shoulder and smirked, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m just soaking them. You can have the pleasure of scrubbing.” Even as he said it, though, he took up a sponge, before adding in a more serious note, “You’ve done enough today and I know there’s still more to do, so let me do this. Besides, you still have wrap the massive load of toys Santa will bring. Honestly, this place will look more like a toy store tomorrow than a home.”

Evangeline stiffened some and crossed her arms. “Christmas only comes once a year,” she defended. Thinking a little more, the woman supposed she had gotten a little carried away purchasing gifts for her boy. But one could hardly blame her. Money wasn’t an issue and it wasn’t like she had gotten the chance to do such a thing with her first two sons. Plus, if she were completely honest with herself, she felt that spoiling him a little in this manner made up for her constant hovering, of worrying about him. Since Sascha took a much more “laid back” approach to parenting, it was up to her to be the strict one, too, the “mean” parent that said no to everything Rhys wanted to do. So, if she wanted to spoil him a little under the guise of Santa, who could judge her? Waving a hand dismissively, she spoke, “Never you mind that. Just make sure that the camera and video recorder are ready tomorrow morning. I want to catch every minute on film.” After all, her baby boy wouldn’t be a baby forever.

Sascha laughed. “They’re ready to go. You’ve only reminded me a million times this past week.”

With a smile, Evangeline wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek, made difficult with her husband’s hands still in the suds. “You’re too good to us,” she murmured, thankful once more to have found such a loving man to share this this part of her journey with.

He arched a curious brow then, pointedly looking her up and down. “Good enough to get my own special present from Santa?”

Evangeline nearly burst out in laughter, before checking herself and, instead, giving a small snort. She shoved him, playfully. “Santa only gives gifts to good boys. And you’re acting rather naughty at the moment.”

“Damn, and here I was, hoping for something sweet.”

Evangeline shook her head, chuckling. “You’re terrible,” she concluded. “But, after I put Rhys down and get started wrapping presents, perhaps you could come up and help me put the bows on top? You never know. It’s a night for miracles and I might just find a piece of mistletoe amongst the gifts.”

Abandoning the dishes, Sascha stepped close and wrapped his arms around her, still wet with suds. “I have something much better than mistletoe in mind,” he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. It lasted for one long moment, then another, and another.

“Mama, are you coming!?” Rhys yelled, somewhat impatiently, from upstairs.

Breaking apart, Evangeline smiled, amused. “I’ll be there in a minute, love,” she answered back. Ah, life as a mother.

Sascha returned to the sink. “Get that boy in bed so we can wrap presents,” he stated playfully. Evangeline only laughed and swatted at him halfheartedly before heading up the stairs.

She found Rhys already in his room, kneeling down by his bookshelf – which was full to the brim, thanks to herself – before he pulled out a rather thick book, heavy enough for him to hold with two hands when he brought it to her. Just as expected, it was his illustrated children’s Bible. Evangeline took it with a smile before starting the usual round of questions that accompanied bedtime.

“Did you use the potty?”

He nodded in the affirmative.

“Did you wash your hands after?”

He held up his little hands as proof.

“And did you brush your teeth?”

At that, he gave her a wide grin, showing off his clean pearly whites.

Chuckling, Evangeline crossed the room and sat down in the rocking chair that had been in the room since the day he was born. While the rest of his room had changed and grown with him, this spot remained the same and would for as long as she could possibly make it. For now, though, Rhys was more than happy to crawl up into her lap and the woman basked in the familiar way he settled into her arms, in the smell of his baby shampoo and the eagerness for her attention he’d have only as a little boy. The woman tried to remind herself, when she felt a pang of sadness, that there were still a few more years like this ahead of them.

Before she could dwell on that thought too much, she opened the big book. “Do you know what story we’re going to read tonight?” She knew the page number where it started by heart.

Rhys looked up, “The one when baby Jesus is born, right? We talked about it at church.”

The archangel nodded. “That’s right. We’re going to read the real story of Christmas.”

Her son nodded in agreement. “Right. Cause it’s not all about Santa.”

Evangeline kissed the crown of his head, believing she couldn’t be more proud at that moment. Sure, she might spoil him at Christmas, but that didn’t mean the true reason for the holiday would be blind to him. He’d be the perfect angel one day, devoted and faithful, and she’d do her best to teach him. “You’re absolutely right,” she assured.

Turning to one of the most well-read stories, Evangeline inhaled, smiling, before starting to read the familiar Christmas tale. Despite the fact that he had undoubtedly heard this story – as well as many others that were highlighted in the book – Rhys listened with apt attention, getting rather animated when he was able to embellish the story with details that had been left out, such as the reasoning behind the tiresome trip to Bethlehem and what exactly the Three Wise Men brought the little Savior upon his birth. The archangel indulged him, letting him “read” some of the sentences to her, when he knew what was coming next. She was certain that her son, though he couldn’t read on his own yet, would’ve been able to recite the tale word for word if needed. Reluctant to let the moment end, Evangeline took her time turning the pages, letting her little one look over the intricate details of the illustrations and ask her any questions he might have, but after twenty minutes or so, they’d reached the end of the special story.

Closing the heavy book, Evangeline finished, “And that’s the story of Jesus’ birth, of God’s greatest gift to us. It’s only through His love, and Jesus’, that we are able to ascend to Heaven.” She had just about been ready to have her son slip off her lap into bed when she saw him growing pensive, mind churning, before he turned in her lap to face her.

“Why does God love us so much?” he asked then, a little unsure. Sure, he was told every Sunday that the Almighty loved him, but it was times like this, when he was really striving to understand the purpose behind what he was told by Sunday School teachers, that reminded Evangeline more and more of his angelic heritage, of what he would be expected of him when he was older.

Not wanting to get too deep into a theological discussion this late at night, the archangel gave him the simplest answer. “Because we are his children, dear. He loves us just like Mama and Papa love you.”

Rhys pursed his lips in contemplation. “But He doesn’t even know me.”

At that, Evangeline chuckled. Oh, the irony. If only her son knew he’d been especially chosen by the Almighty. “He most certainly does, darling. And one day, you’ll realize just how much He does know and love you, but until then, you’ll just have to have faith. And hope.” Deciding to make things a little lighter, the woman smiled and, after setting the book aside, wrapped her arms around her boy’s waist and pulled him close. There was just a hint of mischief in her voice when she continued, “After all, you know what Mama’s favorite verse it, right? ‘Faith, hope, and love; these three, but the greatest of these is…?’” She trailed off, giving him time to finish the quote.

“Love!” he added, mirroring her own smile. He’d said the verse with her more times than she could count, as it was a means for Evangeline to let him know just how much she loved him and, even after what could’ve been the thousandth time, his grin was still proud and loving.

Giving him a little squeeze, she nodded, “That’s right. And do you know who Mama loves the most?”

Rhys certainly knew where this was going and, smirking impishly, he answered, “Papa?”

Chuckling, Evangeline spoke, “Clever boy. Of course, I love Papa, but do you know who I love the mostest most?”

Rhys could hardly contain his laughter, but did his best to keep a straight face when he finally supplied her with the expected question. “Who?”

“You!” With that, Evangeline held him tight, before “assaulting” him with a volley of kisses all over his cheeks, nose, forehead and lips. He pretended to struggle and be put out, but all the while, the room was filled with the infectious peals of laughter she’d come to love so much.

After a little while, the woman finally ceased the playful torture, before she let him slide off her lap. Standing, she put the book back on its place on the shelf before she gave Rhys a little swat on his bottom. “Alright, then. Into bed with you. Otherwise, it’ll never be Christmas morning.” There was the usual disappointed grunt that accompanied the edict of bedtime, but he did was he was told without too much of a fuss, as he was already excited about the festivities that would come in the morning. Once he was in bed, Evangeline tucked the covers tightly around his little frame. “There, all snug and warm. Now try to get some sleep, love.”

“I can’t,” came his insistent reply. “I’m too excited!”

Evangeline expected as much, of course, but that still didn’t change the fact that he’d been stifling yawns before his earlier bath. That and he’d have to be asleep if she and Sascha were to finish all the preparations. “You were up before the sun this morning,” she reminded him. “You have to be sleepy. And the sooner you sleep, the sooner morning will come.”

Rhys pouted. “That’ll take forever,” he grumbled. “I’m never gonna be able to go to sleep.” Not but a few moments later, his mouth parted in a big yawn.

Smiling, and knowing that it wouldn’t be long before he succumbed to his exhaustion, the archangel crossed the room. “How about I stay with you until you fall asleep, hmm?” Turning his bedroom light off, she made sure the hallway light was on before going back to her son and lying down beside him. Though it was a small bed, they managed it comfortably, with the archangel on her side, Rhys tucked in close to her. Gently, she brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes and kissed his cheek again. “Close your eyes, love.”

He rubbed at one eye sleepily. “Will you sing your song?” The words were said through another yawn.

The request brought a smile to Evangeline’s lips. She’d sang to him since he was a newborn. Most often, it was to lull him to sleep, but it had been known to help ease fevers, to dry tears, and to chase away monsters. They were usually slow, peaceful melodies of hymns she’d learned in years past, but the request of her song meant something special. With a nod, she wrapped one arm around him and, lying her head beside his on the pillow, she sang softly the very same lullaby her own mother had sang to her so many centuries ago, when they would lie close together on bedrolls during particularly cold or rainy nights. “Sleep, who takes the little ones, come take this one, too. So young I give him to you, once grown lead him back to me…” The Greek words meant nothing to the little boy, as he knew nothing of the language, but the solace they both took from the sweet, quiet moment was what mattered the most. It was times like these, when the archangel could feel both love swell within her breast and her heart breaking over what was lost, that she was reminded of why she had chosen to let herself love another mortal again. Both men in the house, the one nestled close to her and the one who had knit together her mending heart, reminded the woman that – indeed – love was the greatest gift any person, mortal or otherwise, could be given.

With gentle touches and soothing ministrations, the lyrics of her lullaby chased her son off to sleep within ten minutes. Careful not to disturb him, Evangeline disentangled herself from Rhys, though it wasn’t without giving him one last kiss on his brow. “Merry Christmas, love.”


Last edited by Admin on Mon Jan 04, 2016 2:59 pm; edited 2 times in total

Admin
Admin

Posts : 7
Join date : 2015-12-20

View user profile http://testing.aktiv-forum.com

Back to top Go down

Re: Your first subject

Post by Admin on Mon Jan 04, 2016 10:48 am

Despite the fact that Evangeline was a devout Christian and a one of the Almighty’s selected few, an archangel, she was not all too fond of the holidays. What annoyed her the most, though, was the present day interpretation of Christmas. During her mortal years, when the notion of Christianity was first starting to spread across the world, Christ’s birth was a sacred day, one of thanks and awe. It had been humbling, knowing that God had given the world a savior, who had later died so that they might have everlasting life. In her day, Christmas had been a day of celebration, yes, but of a miracle birth – not of all the current and rather muted concepts of the holiday. Perhaps it was her age showing, or how she had been brought up, but Evangeline believed that Christmas needed to be reserved for the miracle child who had been born then, not to other pagan practices or entities. For the longest time, she believed that the addition of the fir tree in the holiday a disgrace, an ugly lie wrapped up in a pagan Yule tradition. She didn’t approve of those who decorated their homes with laurel or other winter foliage, and, while she could admit that Saint Nicholas was an honorable Christian man (after all, she had named one of her own sons a version of the name), the holiday was not about him or his generosity. It was about their Savior.

Over the course of the centuries that she had been alive, the church had become more and more accepting of such practices. Suddenly Christmas trees decorated in tensile in homes were the norm, as were tacky yard and home decorations, and Saint Nicholas had been converted from a giving Christian priest to a fat, bearded man called Santa who gave enormous amount of presents to “good” children. It had happened gradually, over many, many years, but before long, Christmas as she knew it had become a thing of the past, replaced by blatant commercialism and greed. Disgusting. Evangeline had much preferred to spend those days in Heaven, unless of course she was specifically told to be on Earth for a mission. Moreover, it was during this time, a time to celebrate love and happiness, that she missed her family all the more, from both her mortal life and afterward. Being among her kind had helped her cope with the sadness and remind her, when she was particularly mournful, what the time of year was truly about.

Her attitude about Christmas had changed drastically little over four years ago, however.

Upon meeting Sascha and falling in love again for the first time in nearly five hundred years, some of her stricter Christian beliefs had softened some, but it wasn’t until Rhys was born that the woman had embraced every aspect of modern Christmastime. Even his first Christmas, when he was little more than a couple months old, was an extravagant one. There was a giant nine foot tree in their living room, laden with the prettiest ornaments and baubles Evangeline could find. There had been stacks of presents under the tree, as well as professionally made Christmas photos and a very big and rich Christmas dinner – though, admittedly, Sascha did most of the cooking, seeing as she had had to take care of the baby. In addition to all the festivities she’d once thought of as foolish, though, she had taken the time to sit down with her infant son and tell him the story of Christ’s birth, while she gently rocked him to sleep. The tradition had continued and this particular Christmas Eve was no different.

Taking a break from the cooking preparations that would become their Christmas dinner the following day, Evangeline sat down on the couch, glad for the chance to take a short reprieve. The day had been a long one, full of two separate church services and an emergency trip to the grocery store. And she still had a sink full of dishes to wash, but while Sascha was upstairs giving their son a bath, she could take a quick breather. Plus it would soon be the little boy’s bedtime and she would have to set aside some time to read to him and tuck him in. Undoubtedly, Rhys was excited for the very special holiday, like any child his age, so Evangeline suspected it would take a while before her little one would be ready to fall asleep. Further, she still had some more presents to wrap and slip under the tree before Rhys would wake up in the early morning, eager to see what Santa had brought.

Not for the first time, as the archangel looked about her home, she marveled at how much her life had changed in a few short years. After mourning the loss of loved ones in the past, Evangeline had never thought that she would find love again, let alone have another child. It had been hard enough for her to carry to term her first two sons and the mourning after she found out about their deaths… That had been ones of the most trying and hardest times of her mortal life. And Aleksander’s death…. Well, that was another matter entirely. She’d learned the hard way that falling in love with a mortal could only end in heartbreak and, though she had tried to harden her heart to love, it had managed to find her again in Sascha. And when little Rhys came along, a miracle itself seeing as she was immortal and her husband not, the archangel felt the familiar warm feelings that accompanied a family – a love at its deepest and purest form, for the first time in centuries. Of course the loss of her past two families had left an ugly scar on her heart, one that would never truly heal, but when she looked at her present family, however small it might be, she couldn’t help but think that her loved ones in Heaven her looking on with affection and understanding.

Heaving a sigh, she stood up and crossed the living room, where their tall, yet rather skinny, tree stood. A small smile pulled at her lips. In previous Christmases, she and Sascha had preferred a fuller tree, but this year they had taken Rhys to the fir tree farm with them and had allowed him to choose the tree. And, so, they left with a tree that very nearly touched the ceiling, leaving little room for the fiber-optic star to be affixed on top, but one skinny enough that they could’ve stuck it in the backseat of the car, should they have felt so inclined. It was flawless, despite its imperfections, simply because her boy had seen the beauty in it when they had not. Reaching down, she flipped a switch near the electric socket and the tree lit up in multi-colored lights. Again, another of Rhys’ ideas. She preferred simple white lights, but he insisted that the colored ones – particularly if they blinked or changed color – were much more fun.

They had gotten the tree over two weeks ago and, just as soon as they got it home, her boy had insisted on decorating it. Eager to help, he’d wanted to hang as many ornaments as possible. Evangeline had let him place a few of the sturdier ones himself, but the more breakable ones had been reserved for herself and her husband. Plus, there were a few very special ornaments only she would place, high enough on the tree to be out of reach of her little one’s hands or clear of any shenanigans that might occur near the tree. Gazing at the fir, she managed to catch sight of a small, bronze ornament. It hung heavy on the tree, causing the branch to dip some, but the archangel smiled before gently reaching out to trace the intricate design - two laurel branches intertwined. She’d paid the artist enough to make such a thing, but it was beautiful, the detailing so delicately done that she could even see the veins on some of the leaves. The ornament represented her homeland, Greece, as well as all she gained and lost during her mortal lifetime. Her heart gave an uncomfortable wrench, thinking about her eldest sons Christos and Nikolaos. Though they had been gone from her for centuries, and though she could visit them on occasion in Heaven, her heart still longed to hold them, flesh and body, in her arms again. They were just boys when they were called Home, babies really, in the grand scheme of things. She had wondered, more times then she could count, what they would have been like when they were older, if they would have found love of their own and had families. A sheen of mist filled her eyes, but the woman blinked them back. They were in Paradise, where they belonged. Happy. She needn’t mourn for them. At least her head told her as much, but her heart kept betraying her.

Her eyes found another bauble she’d had specially made, which was made largely of paper, but was held sturdy by carefully concealed cardboard. It was a small replica of a Bible, opened in the middle to reveal her favorite verse embossed on authentic parchment. This ornament represented one of the major missions God had sent her on over the course of her immortal lifespan, the first in fact, and coincidentally when she had met Aleksander. Convinced that she would shed the tears that brimmed in her eyes should she dwell on it, she circled the tree until she found another, more modern, ornament. It, too, looked to be made of brass, though it was only a finish. A happy couple danced, surrounded by a golden heart. Her and Sascha. Close to that was one of an infant in a bassinet, the year 1996 printed at the bottom, when Rhys was born. There were so many years, so many memories, laden on one, skinny little tree. Evangeline supposed now she could understand why mortals had grown so fond of the tradition.

It had been at that moment that she heard heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor, Sascha, as well as the amused peals of laughter from her little boy. When the pair emerged into the living room, Rhys was on his father’s back, both wearing twin smiles of amusement. She knew that Sascha had likely been running around with their son on his back, just to draw an infectious laugh from their little one, and that became more than obvious when, just after her husband stopped in his tracks, Rhys piped up, “Again, again!”

Sascha chuckled. “No, I don’t think so, buddy. This horse is getting tired.” Kneeling down, he let Rhys slide off his back. “Besides, I think it’s about time for someone to get ready for bed. At least if he wants Santa to come.” Standing back up, he winked at his wife, before disappearing and heading toward the kitchen.

Rhys pouted then, disappointed with the prospect of going to bed. He looked to his mother then, doe eyed and piteous, wondering if she would think differently. It was an unhealthy habit he was gaining, pitting one parent against the other. If she said no to something, he would then go to his father and inquire about the same rule or dictate and, more often than not, Sascha let him get away with the things she didn’t allow – whether he meant to or not. She’d sat her boy down and explained that he couldn’t do such things, that if she told him to do (or not do) something, that it was final, but they were still working on completely breaking the little boy of the habit. Normally, she would scold him, but tonight he looked so adorable, dressed in Christmas pajamas and hair still damp and spiky from his recent bath, that she couldn’t bring herself to.

“Papa’s right,” she eventually agreed, “It’s getting late, but I think that we might have time for a story before bed.” Her voice sounded weary, reminiscent.

Rhys had perked up at the mention of a bedtime story. He loved listening to the stories she told, which were more often than not from the Children’s Bible she had given him for his third birthday last year. But his enthusiasm quickly vanished and he cocked his head to the side, little brow furrowed and brown eyes troubled. “Are you okay, Mama? You sound sad.”

There were times, such as now, when Evangeline marveled at her little ones empathy for others. He was able to interpret, at the tender age of four, the emotions of others rather easily. It was something that she hoped to continue to foster in him as he grew older, a trait that would make him an admirable angel one day. Yes, Evangeline had known the moment she knew of her pregnancy that the child she bore would carry angelic traits and she desired nothing more than for him to pursue such an ambition, to live to be all that he possibly could. And with such potential, he certainly could do great things if he devoted himself to God’s will. Rhys was still very young and had yet to start showing the signs of his angelic heritage, but Evangeline knew that the time would come, sooner rather than later, that she would have to reveal to him what they were, what was expected of them. But, for the moment, she wanted him to maintain his childhood innocence for as long as possible, without the worry of concealing himself or the weight of responsibility.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she gave him a warm, genuine smile, touched by his concern. “No, love. I’m not sad, just a little tired is all.” She chuckled, “I might be following you to bed before too long.”

Rhys joined her by the tree then, taking in the fine specimen he’d picked out and they’d worked so hard to make beautiful. “Are we gonna leave the tree on for Santa?” he asked, looking up at her.

Evangeline always turned the tree off before going to sleep, for fear it would be a fire hazard, but she supposed she could make an exception tonight, seeing as it was Christmas Eve. Smirking, she acquiesced. “Well, I’m sure he would like to see the prettiest Christmas tree in all the world…”

Rhys nodded vigorously in agreement. “Right! ‘Sides, Santa needs some light to see when he comes down the chimney, cause if not he’ll trip.”

Evangeline couldn’t help but laugh at his childish logic. “When you’re right, you’re right,” she agreed.

At that moment, Rhys’ eyes brightened with excitement. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Quick as a whistle, he turned on his heel and ran toward the foyer, where a coat rack was built onto the wall. On tippy toes, he reached up and pushed on the bottom of his backpack, lifting it off the hook; it fell to the floor easily. He dug around it for the moment, even though Evangeline knew it contained nothing more than a folder with some artwork and a report concerning how he’d acted during the day, which more often than not ironically involved the word “angel.” Well, mostly. She was surprised when he pulled out a little trinket and came running back to her, a proud smile bedecking his face. “I made this for you at school, Mama.”

“Oh?” Evangeline took the object from him and, upon inspection, found out that it was a handmade ornament to hang on the tree, made of popsicle sticks and pom-poms to look like a reindeer. It was stuck together with hot glue, so she knew that it had been a class project, where his teacher helped but just the fact that her son had made it with his own two hands was enough to make it more than special. Moreover, this was the first ornament she’d have on the tree that he’d made. She didn’t like the idea of her boy leaving to go to preschool four times a week, even if it was just only five hours at a time. In fact, she’d flat our refused to consider it when Sascha brought it up back in September. Rhys was a lively child, prone to getting himself into trouble or taking risks when she wasn’t around, and then there was the added fact that his angelic traits would manifest eventually. What if something akin to that happened while he was away from her? He would hardly know what to do or be able to comprehend what was happening to him! But eventually Sascha had worn her down, rationalizing it by claiming that he needed to spend more time with other kids and that he’d get a head start on the subject he’d study later on. Still… Evangeline knew that she wouldn’t budge on the issue of homeschooling him next year; it was much too dangerous and very risky, all things considered. But perhaps an after-school activity wouldn’t hurt matters.

“Do you like it?” Rhys asked, rocking on his heels and beaming up at her hopefully. “I made it all by myself!” he added, boastful, before hesitating a moment. “Well, Ms. Adams helped a little bit.” He held his thumb and forefinger up close together, showing her just how little roll the teacher played before continuing, “But I did most of it.”

“Well, I think it’s about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Evangeline replied, her words honest. Anything her little boy made was precious. “And such a pretty, special ornament deserves a special place on the tree, don’t you think?”

Again, the little boy nodded vigorously. With a chuckle, Evangeline picked him up and placed him on her hip before handing him the ornament. “Here. You made the ornament, dear, so you should get to place it where it belongs.”

His eyes scanned the tree, taking such a decision very seriously before he reached out and, very carefully, placed it on a branch - one that already had a bunch of ornaments surrounding it, making it look clustered. Rhys looked up, “Is that good?”

“It’s perfect,” the archangel assured, before kissing his cheek. Setting him back down on his feet, she gestured him toward the stairs. “I want you to go on up and get ready for bed, alright? I’ll be up in just a minute and then we’ll read a story.”

Dutifully, her son nodded and did as he was told. Evangeline exhaled, glad that she was spared from the usual argument that accompanied bed time, but she supposed that the knowledge that it was Christmas Eve was what compelled him to go willingly. After all, Santa wouldn’t come so long as he was up and awake!

Knowing that she had a few minutes to herself, Evangeline left the living room and headed into the kitchen, thinking that she could at least get started on some of the washing. To her surprise, though, Sascha was already at the sink, water and bubbles full to the brim. “You didn’t have to do that,” she admonished gently, though she was a little relieved. Since she had more presents to wrap before bed, knowing that the dishes were done would be a load off her mind. Sascha had teased her on more than one occasion that it wouldn’t hurt the dishes to be in the sink overnight, but the archangel couldn’t go to sleep knowing there was a chore that needed to be done.

Her husband glanced over his shoulder and smirked, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m just soaking them. You can have the pleasure of scrubbing.” Even as he said it, though, he took up a sponge, before adding in a more serious note, “You’ve done enough today and I know there’s still more to do, so let me do this. Besides, you still have wrap the massive load of toys Santa will bring. Honestly, this place will look more like a toy store tomorrow than a home.”

Evangeline stiffened some and crossed her arms. “Christmas only comes once a year,” she defended. Thinking a little more, the woman supposed she had gotten a little carried away purchasing gifts for her boy. But one could hardly blame her. Money wasn’t an issue and it wasn’t like she had gotten the chance to do such a thing with her first two sons. Plus, if she were completely honest with herself, she felt that spoiling him a little in this manner made up for her constant hovering, of worrying about him. Since Sascha took a much more “laid back” approach to parenting, it was up to her to be the strict one, too, the “mean” parent that said no to everything Rhys wanted to do. So, if she wanted to spoil him a little under the guise of Santa, who could judge her? Waving a hand dismissively, she spoke, “Never you mind that. Just make sure that the camera and video recorder are ready tomorrow morning. I want to catch every minute on film.” After all, her baby boy wouldn’t be a baby forever.

Sascha laughed. “They’re ready to go. You’ve only reminded me a million times this past week.”

With a smile, Evangeline wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek, made difficult with her husband’s hands still in the suds. “You’re too good to us,” she murmured, thankful once more to have found such a loving man to share this this part of her journey with.

He arched a curious brow then, pointedly looking her up and down. “Good enough to get my own special present from Santa?”

Evangeline nearly burst out in laughter, before checking herself and, instead, giving a small snort. She shoved him, playfully. “Santa only gives gifts to good boys. And you’re acting rather naughty at the moment.”

“Damn, and here I was, hoping for something sweet.”

Evangeline shook her head, chuckling. “You’re terrible,” she concluded. “But, after I put Rhys down and get started wrapping presents, perhaps you could come up and help me put the bows on top? You never know. It’s a night for miracles and I might just find a piece of mistletoe amongst the gifts.”

Abandoning the dishes, Sascha stepped close and wrapped his arms around her, still wet with suds. “I have something much better than mistletoe in mind,” he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. It lasted for one long moment, then another, and another.

“Mama, are you coming!?” Rhys yelled, somewhat impatiently, from upstairs.

Breaking apart, Evangeline smiled, amused. “I’ll be there in a minute, love,” she answered back. Ah, life as a mother.

Sascha returned to the sink. “Get that boy in bed so we can wrap presents,” he stated playfully. Evangeline only laughed and swatted at him halfheartedly before heading up the stairs.

She found Rhys already in his room, kneeling down by his bookshelf – which was full to the brim, thanks to herself – before he pulled out a rather thick book, heavy enough for him to hold with two hands when he brought it to her. Just as expected, it was his illustrated children’s Bible. Evangeline took it with a smile before starting the usual round of questions that accompanied bedtime.

“Did you use the potty?”

He nodded in the affirmative.

“Did you wash your hands after?”

He held up his little hands as proof.

“And did you brush your teeth?”

At that, he gave her a wide grin, showing off his clean pearly whites.

Chuckling, Evangeline crossed the room and sat down in the rocking chair that had been in the room since the day he was born. While the rest of his room had changed and grown with him, this spot remained the same and would for as long as she could possibly make it. For now, though, Rhys was more than happy to crawl up into her lap and the woman basked in the familiar way he settled into her arms, in the smell of his baby shampoo and the eagerness for her attention he’d have only as a little boy. The woman tried to remind herself, when she felt a pang of sadness, that there were still a few more years like this ahead of them.

Before she could dwell on that thought too much, she opened the big book. “Do you know what story we’re going to read tonight?” She knew the page number where it started by heart.

Rhys looked up, “The one when baby Jesus is born, right? We talked about it at church.”

The archangel nodded. “That’s right. We’re going to read the real story of Christmas.”

Her son nodded in agreement. “Right. Cause it’s not all about Santa.”

Evangeline kissed the crown of his head, believing she couldn’t be more proud at that moment. Sure, she might spoil him at Christmas, but that didn’t mean the true reason for the holiday would be blind to him. He’d be the perfect angel one day, devoted and faithful, and she’d do her best to teach him. “You’re absolutely right,” she assured.

Turning to one of the most well-read stories, Evangeline inhaled, smiling, before starting to read the familiar Christmas tale. Despite the fact that he had undoubtedly heard this story – as well as many others that were highlighted in the book – Rhys listened with apt attention, getting rather animated when he was able to embellish the story with details that had been left out, such as the reasoning behind the tiresome trip to Bethlehem and what exactly the Three Wise Men brought the little Savior upon his birth. The archangel indulged him, letting him “read” some of the sentences to her, when he knew what was coming next. She was certain that her son, though he couldn’t read on his own yet, would’ve been able to recite the tale word for word if needed. Reluctant to let the moment end, Evangeline took her time turning the pages, letting her little one look over the intricate details of the illustrations and ask her any questions he might have, but after twenty minutes or so, they’d reached the end of the special story.

Closing the heavy book, Evangeline finished, “And that’s the story of Jesus’ birth, of God’s greatest gift to us. It’s only through His love, and Jesus’, that we are able to ascend to Heaven.” She had just about been ready to have her son slip off her lap into bed when she saw him growing pensive, mind churning, before he turned in her lap to face her.

“Why does God love us so much?” he asked then, a little unsure. Sure, he was told every Sunday that the Almighty loved him, but it was times like this, when he was really striving to understand the purpose behind what he was told by Sunday School teachers, that reminded Evangeline more and more of his angelic heritage, of what he would be expected of him when he was older.

Not wanting to get too deep into a theological discussion this late at night, the archangel gave him the simplest answer. “Because we are his children, dear. He loves us just like Mama and Papa love you.”

Rhys pursed his lips in contemplation. “But He doesn’t even know me.”

At that, Evangeline chuckled. Oh, the irony. If only her son knew he’d been especially chosen by the Almighty. “He most certainly does, darling. And one day, you’ll realize just how much He does know and love you, but until then, you’ll just have to have faith. And hope.” Deciding to make things a little lighter, the woman smiled and, after setting the book aside, wrapped her arms around her boy’s waist and pulled him close. There was just a hint of mischief in her voice when she continued, “After all, you know what Mama’s favorite verse it, right? ‘Faith, hope, and love; these three, but the greatest of these is…?’” She trailed off, giving him time to finish the quote.

“Love!” he added, mirroring her own smile. He’d said the verse with her more times than she could count, as it was a means for Evangeline to let him know just how much she loved him and, even after what could’ve been the thousandth time, his grin was still proud and loving.

Giving him a little squeeze, she nodded, “That’s right. And do you know who Mama loves the most?”

Rhys certainly knew where this was going and, smirking impishly, he answered, “Papa?”

Chuckling, Evangeline spoke, “Clever boy. Of course, I love Papa, but do you know who I love the mostest most?”

Rhys could hardly contain his laughter, but did his best to keep a straight face when he finally supplied her with the expected question. “Who?”

“You!” With that, Evangeline held him tight, before “assaulting” him with a volley of kisses all over his cheeks, nose, forehead and lips. He pretended to struggle and be put out, but all the while, the room was filled with the infectious peals of laughter she’d come to love so much.

After a little while, the woman finally ceased the playful torture, before she let him slide off her lap. Standing, she put the book back on its place on the shelf before she gave Rhys a little swat on his bottom. “Alright, then. Into bed with you. Otherwise, it’ll never be Christmas morning.” There was the usual disappointed grunt that accompanied the edict of bedtime, but he did was he was told without too much of a fuss, as he was already excited about the festivities that would come in the morning. Once he was in bed, Evangeline tucked the covers tightly around his little frame. “There, all snug and warm. Now try to get some sleep, love.”

“I can’t,” came his insistent reply. “I’m too excited!”

Evangeline expected as much, of course, but that still didn’t change the fact that he’d been stifling yawns before his earlier bath. That and he’d have to be asleep if she and Sascha were to finish all the preparations. “You were up before the sun this morning,” she reminded him. “You have to be sleepy. And the sooner you sleep, the sooner morning will come.”

Rhys pouted. “That’ll take forever,” he grumbled. “I’m never gonna be able to go to sleep.” Not but a few moments later, his mouth parted in a big yawn.

Smiling, and knowing that it wouldn’t be long before he succumbed to his exhaustion, the archangel crossed the room. “How about I stay with you until you fall asleep, hmm?” Turning his bedroom light off, she made sure the hallway light was on before going back to her son and lying down beside him. Though it was a small bed, they managed it comfortably, with the archangel on her side, Rhys tucked in close to her. Gently, she brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes and kissed his cheek again. “Close your eyes, love.”

He rubbed at one eye sleepily. “Will you sing your song?” The words were said through another yawn.

The request brought a smile to Evangeline’s lips. She’d sang to him since he was a newborn. Most often, it was to lull him to sleep, but it had been known to help ease fevers, to dry tears, and to chase away monsters. They were usually slow, peaceful melodies of hymns she’d learned in years past, but the request of her song meant something special. With a nod, she wrapped one arm around him and, lying her head beside his on the pillow, she sang softly the very same lullaby her own mother had sang to her so many centuries ago, when they would lie close together on bedrolls during particularly cold or rainy nights. “Sleep, who takes the little ones, come take this one, too. So young I give him to you, once grown lead him back to me…” The Greek words meant nothing to the little boy, as he knew nothing of the language, but the solace they both took from the sweet, quiet moment was what mattered the most. It was times like these, when the archangel could feel both love swell within her breast and her heart breaking over what was lost, that she was reminded of why she had chosen to let herself love another mortal again. Both men in the house, the one nestled close to her and the one who had knit together her mending heart, reminded the woman that – indeed – love was the greatest gift any person, mortal or otherwise, could be given.

With gentle touches and soothing ministrations, the lyrics of her lullaby chased her son off to sleep within ten minutes. Careful not to disturb him, Evangeline disentangled herself from Rhys, though it wasn’t without giving him one last kiss on his brow. “Merry Christmas, love.”


Last edited by Admin on Mon Jan 04, 2016 3:10 pm; edited 16 times in total

Admin
Admin

Posts : 7
Join date : 2015-12-20

View user profile http://testing.aktiv-forum.com

Back to top Go down

Re: Your first subject

Post by Admin on Wed Jan 06, 2016 11:42 am

[dohtml]





NAME










Age




Group




Species




Relationship




Words





If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that? If you put your words here then you can see that it will scroll. How exciting is that?



* *
[/dohtml]

Admin
Admin

Posts : 7
Join date : 2015-12-20

View user profile http://testing.aktiv-forum.com

Back to top Go down

Re: Your first subject

Post by Admin on Thu Jan 28, 2016 4:06 pm

"next">


Admin
Admin

Posts : 7
Join date : 2015-12-20

View user profile http://testing.aktiv-forum.com

Back to top Go down

Re: Your first subject

Post by Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

View previous topic View next topic Back to top


 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum