Cyriel

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I]What a horrible little town...[/I] Nari walked along the main avenue, staying close to the shadows of the buildings. Her slanted eyes watched out from underneath her head-covering, and crimson cloth swathed her shoulders and arms. She couldn't possibly imagine why anyone in their right mind would choose to settle here. For all she could see, it was a group of peasants trying to make a living. It was a collage of muddy streets, washed out posters and signs, crumbling buildings, and a very active night life. In other words...just one, humongous bar. Which was exactly why she was here. Despite Nari's distaste for the small "settlement" - for it could hardly be called [I]settled[/I] - the place had exactly the atmosphere she was looking for. All activities were centered in the middle of the town, and any ruckus quickly gathered a crowd. People were quite willing to give you their opinion, and this in turn would always escalate into one altercation or another. It was a place to let off some steam, and have some fun. It was also one of those places that you would come to so as not to be found, or...to find someone who didn't wish to be found. Or perhaps Nari was here because she knew that anyone who needed some fast action would be here. [I]Yes, that must be it. Because if despicable men are drawn to one thing, it is easy sex.[/I] Passing by a few of the small shopping stands, Nari watched as an old woman standing outside one of the buildings argued with one of her charges, and then disappeared into the building. As soon as the old woman was distracted, Nari swiftly entered the building, gliding up the stairs silently. Already there was the sickening scent of rotting wood mixed with cheap sex, and even cheaper beer. An accomodating person would dub it a 'house of ill repute,' or perhaps a call house. Nari called it a whorehouse. Sounds of carnal desire were quite evident to her sensitive ears, and her eyes narrowed at her disgust. However, she heard a familiar female voice in the throes of false pleasure, as well as a man throwing out his lewd intentions for her. Coming to the end of the dark hall, Nari stood for one more moment, and then easily kicked the door in with a crash. There were screams and muffled cries before the dust settled again, revealing two scantily clad bodies in a very improper position. [RIGHT]Nari walked in, flicking clothes at the coupling pair with her foot. "Saya, get dressed."[/RIGHT] [RIGHT]The man stood up with his eyes narrowed, standing with his feet spread, "Who the **** are you?"[/RIGHT] He gave her the once over, and Nari felt as if her skin had been encoated with slime. [RIGHT]She kept her eyes away, only addressing the girl who was still on the bed. "Saya, [I]get dressed[/I]," she repeated, and this time her tone invited no disobeyment.[/RIGHT] The girl got up, angrily shoving on her garments. Nari turned and left the room, and Saya followed her, stomping down the hallway. The man now was quite bewildered, and angry about his deprived act of copulation, "Hey! Wait a minute! Get back here you *****!" He ran after them, still in the state of undress, and flung Saya against the wall. He pointed at her, chest heaving, "Get back into the room, you whore!" [RIGHT]Nari had had quite enough of this disgusting, grizzled, rude, uncouth, naked man. She turned on him and hit him hard across the mouth, "Watch your language, sir."[/RIGHT] He was jarred, but turned his angry red gaze on her, "You ***** - you're going to be - " Nari interrupted, hitting him again with the back of her other hand. The smell of alcohol reeked from his body, and Nari felt her stomach coil; she needed some fresh air. So, before the brazenly drunk naked man could say another word, Nari hit him for the third time, watching as his eyes rolled around in his empty little head, and then kicked him. Through the wall. There was the thunderous crash of splintering wood, and suddenly daylight entered into the dark building. The old woman came sprinting up the stairs, took one look, and went out again, screaming her head off for help. [RIGHT]Nari turned to the girl, whose eyes were wide open now, "Saya, go home."[/RIGHT] [RIGHT]The girl's face turned hard, and her mouth set into a stubborn line, "I can do what I want - " "Saya!" Nari's voice rose, a surprisingly dangerous edge to it - she had no patience left, and she made it quite evident, "...[I]go home[/I], and do [I]not[/I] leave again. I will not be so forgiving of you next time, so there will [I]be[/I] no next time. Understood?" [/RIGHT] The girl nodded, eyes wide again. [RIGHT]Nari sighed, "Good. Then I believe we will have no reason to meet again. Good-bye Saya." She turned, just in time to block a clumsy blow from the intoxicated idiot who was [I]still[/I] trying to assert his manhood. [/RIGHT] [I]Time to get rid of this incessant pest.[/I] She kicked him again, and he plowed into a dry part of the street, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. Dozens of street children were already gathering and laughing, making a game out of it as they threw mud clots. Nari walked in the furrow the man's body had made, advancing upon the mass of flesh that she was thoroughly sick of.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][QUOTE=Delta]Of the three seasons that grace our side of the world (inundation/typhoon, hot and cold), I love typhoon season the best. Sure, knee-high floods rush into the city at least once a month but nothing beats chancing upon a cute guy with an umbrella when I happen to leave mine at home.[/QUOTE]This makes me [I]want[/I] a typhoon season now ^_^;; I don't understand people who don't like winter - it's such a beautiful season, with snow everywhere glittering, and at night the world seems like it's glowing. Not to mention, it is so much fun dressing up for winter! You get to put on so many layers, and I absolutely adore mittens and scarves and things - they're so cute, and fuzzy, and warm. It's so wonderful coming in from frolicking (I can't believe I used this word) in the snow, and feeling your freezing face warm up again with a cup of hot chocolate made by your dear mother. And, could there really be a more romantic atmosphere than a cold day with a light snow falling, with someone there offering to keep you warm? ^_~ Now spring is absolutely detestable to me, but perhaps it's only because I live in the east side of WA. Spring there is like...a stinking mud-pit. It's absolutely disgusting, because the snow (what little we have) is all melting, and everything is slush, and the gutters are filled with mud, and all in all, it's just very gross. Thus, my reasoning for strongly disliking spring, but I guess we'll see now that I'm not there anymore. I'm sure I'll like it better.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][B]Materialism[/B] - I must say, when I first saw this piece in the OBGT, I was so impressed. The colors and image are absolutely beautiful, and the words themselves give a wonderful nostalgic feel to it. However, what made it most admirable was the entirely different perspective of materialism you presented. It was so original, and a very pleasant surprise compared to what was expected. Beautiful work. [B]I Am True of Heart[/B] - I absolutely love the concept of this one, and the words are very clever, and give quite a confident, self-assuring tone - it's very appealing to my taste. Your design here is also very interesting, almost hiding the other layer of words. It reminds me of a watermark...and I must say, I was quite delighted to discover it - like an Easter egg! Your diction is quite interesting, a wonderful blend of the modern with something of the past. Although usually your hidden words would annoy me (since it took me a little to find them, and only when my screen was at the right angle), here they work very well, and I love the effect. [B]Stuart Vectored[/B] - I know nothing of vectoring, and so cannot be an adequate judge or critic, so please forgive my inadequacies. I quite like this piece - it's new in its stylistic quality, and so attractive to look at. Reminds me of the movie coming out, [I]Scanner Darkly[/I], and I love the effect. The only thing I don't like is where his left eye is - or isn't... It just seems like there's a gaping hole in the side of his head. But other than that, quite cute, and I like it very much.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][B]Systematically Losing the Knack[/B] - I think this one had great potential. I love the green arrows, and the idea, and the words are quite nice. However, the way it turned out...there is an [I]immense[/I] amount of white space, and what you have doesn't really fit into it well. Also, the way the words and everything have been positioned looks...well, not very nice, I don't think. I mean, it's not bad, but it really could be much better. And [I][U]thank you[/U][/I] for giving us the words - it is very much appreciated. ^_^ [B]metaPHYSICS[/B] - This one is quite cute! Yes, I really love the coloring on this one, and the background gives a very nice texture to it. Although, you could perhaps arrange the words so that they have equal amount of space left on each side, but that's just me and my obsession with symmetry. Nice border - so nicely integrated that I almost didn't notice it - I only saw that it gave a certain lightness to the eye. [B]Idioteque - Zentheque[/B] - I won't pretend to know what this means, because I am utterly clueless. Still, I like it! It's a new look for you, I think; at least, I've haven't seen something like this from you yet. Looks very...retro, and it's very attractive. Although I think you could make the border match better - the black puts off the lovely colors you've used here. Which brings me to the colors... I suppose the best description would be that they're clashing complements - very nicely chosen. It's very nice how they're different and splashy (

[FONT=BookAntiqua][COLOR=Sienna]Father Giovanni?s words signaled the close of their cloistered meeting, and the five individuals rose as one. They stood a bit in discussion, although Father Giovanni could provide them with no more information than the letter had revealed. Sunlight was now streaming through the windows, and as it was near noon, the volume outside the church itself had increased. The happy laughter and chatter of many voices through the streets contrasted deeply with the subdued tone of the hall within. Maree felt cold despite the warm sunshine, and she listened closely to the discussion around her. It was a bit awkward, as none of the members knew each other well, and for most it was their first meeting. As she surveyed more closely her brothers and sister in Christ, she felt a small bit of discomfort. She felt her mind wander to Toulouse, and thoughts of the familiar city began to infiltrate her thoughts. Watching the light cascade through the high windows reminded her the sunny days spent at her home. Instantly her thoughts came to rest on the convent where she had spent the majority of her life thus far. Immediately after her summons by Father Giovanni, Maree had dispatched a messenger to the convent in Toulouse to gather a few useful items, including her Qiangs, which were locked safely away at the moment. She was a little anxious, but was sure that the messenger would arrive to deliver the things she had asked for in time for their departure tomorrow morning. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, and turned to find Father Giovanni?s worn face smiling at her, ?Here daughter, perhaps you would like to take a look at the letter. It may be that your young eyes may decipher something that I cannot.? She took the letter gently, and Father Giovanni left her, turning his attention back to the other four. Maree laid the letter on the table, brushing the parchment with her fingers. It was a familiar feeling, and her skin instantly felt alive and restless ? there was want for a quill in her hand. Her eyes traced over the ink, looking for things that were out of the ordinary. The parchment itself was one that was finer than usual, but this was to be expected, as Father Giovanni had said that Surgut was rather prosperous. There was the familiar, slight wear on the paper as expected from something that had been delivered from so far. Looking over it now, tracing the letters with her own fingers, Maree could imagine Father Alexi Valentin writing it. She could sense the different emotions that had affected him while his writing of it ? his script was varied throughout, perhaps the majority looking a bit rushed, as if he had just caught a messenger and had had to hasten his words; at the same time it was very carefully and ? almost lovingly - written, as if he felt that this perhaps would be his last and final correspondence. Touching it felt cold, and troubled her greatly, perhaps because of the immense amount of hopelessness and desperation that it encompassed. Holding it up to the light, she noticed nothing out of the sort. Maree brought the letter close, closing her eyes as she tried to pick up scents. There was the strong smell of leather and oil, and she associated this immediately with the saddlebag of the messenger or horseman. There was no scent of lotion or hand-cream, of which parchment easily absorbed because of its porous nature; Father Valentin was not a luxurious man, and so one that Maree could give a degree of respect to without even meeting him. Was there anything that would suggest falsity? Forced inscription? Maree did not know enough of his habits, and there was nothing that stood out to her at this moment that would imply foul play, even though the letter itself lacked a seal. Another light tap on her shoulder; this time it was Sister Arroyo, ?Is there anything of interest to you?? Maree was somewhat startled by the Sister?s kind face and extraordinary blue eyes, but glanced down to the floor to mask it. Her head came up immediately, and she swallowed and nodded. Sister Arroyo gave another quick smile, and Maree allowed herself a small one in return. She then turned to the group of men, still holding the letter. ?Father Giovanni,? she said, her voice quiet but firm. ?Yes, Sister Bedeau?? ?I was just wondering?was this letter sealed when it arrived? And who was the messenger??[/COLOR] OOC: Well, I guess this is a start... I was just thinking that I doubt most of our characters will get a wonderfully deep night of sleep, so are a few midnight talks/meetings at hand? Not to mention, we still have the entire day to get through at the moment. ^_^ Lets get started then, shall we? [/FONT]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]Well, if anyone doesn't mind (and since no one has posted yet), I was along the mindset to wait perhaps a night before starting off, just so that our characters can discuss what is happening and such, and just to start things off with each other before we decided to entrust our lives to each other. ^_^ Any objections? I do have my post started, but am unsure when it'll be up, but if I get feedback, I'm sure things will progress much more quickly.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Navy][B]Name:[/B] Yerdana Tamari [B]Age:[/B] 27 [B]Gender:[/B] Female [B]City of Residence:[/B] Nadine, [I]The Dominion[/I] ? Southwest District [B]Loyalty:[/B] Nadine City [B]Job:[/B] Member of the Nadine City Council [B]Abilities:[/B] Due to expressed recessive genes passed down from her father, Yerdana is one of ?the Altered? by descent. She is acutely sensitive to temperature, changes in temperature, and the likes, and thus is able to pinpoint human body heat within a certain radius. She can also guess machinery from the amount of heat they give off. What Yerdana can sense is directly proportional to the size of the object, and the distance from the object to Yerdana herself. It is an extremely useful tool not only in combat, but in defensive and precautionary measures as well, since her ability is likeable to a built-in radar system. Also because of her strong sensitivity to temperature, Yerdana can also track heat changes, or heat ?trails,? much as a snake tracks its prey. The odd thing is that her abilities are beginning to mutate as Yerdana progresses in age. Recently she has found that she is somewhat able to control her body heat, as well as alter to a few degrees her core temperature (although not by much due to human delicacy related to temperature). If in direct contact, she is able to channel a certain amount of heat, or draw it away as well. [B]Weapon of Choice:[/B] As a member of the City Council, Yerdana does not usually carry around large weaponry of any sort. A ceremonial (but fully functional) dagger is kept at hand, as well as a small, semiautomatic pistol issued by the Imperial Forces. Other various weaponry is carried by bodyguards who are usually assigned to Yerdana. However, despite her not carrying firearms/weapons does not mean she doesn?t know how to use them ? she has been fully trained in all weaponry employed by the Imperial Forces, and some not as well. [B]Appearance:[/B] Tall and lithe, Yerdana always has a graceful, stately appearance and carriage. Her skin is a beautiful, dusky brown, and has a glow to it. Although she has slender features, Yerdana is obviously strong in spirit and form, with no outward signs of weakness. Her eyes are clear and full of strength, if not a small solemnity, and are a cobalt blue, with flecks of gold. Dress is usually casual, with muted earth-tones. However, on holidays, festivals, or special occasions, Yerdana will bring out the full regalia of the City Council. [B]Personality:[/B] Due to her training, and family relations, Yerdana can meld and adapt easily in almost any situation. She can be stubborn, fierce, mild, gentle, submissive, outspoken, fearless, or strong, all depending on what the situation calls for. Above all things she is a stateswoman, and is able to keep her head in even dire and threatening circumstances. Determined and resolute, Yerdana will pursue whatever is her goal until she achieves it. She can be somewhat of a discomfort to the other council members, as she is unwavering in her devotion to the greater good of Nadine, and will not negotiate or sacrifice her moral code of ethics, even while playing the game of politics. Yerdana absolutely detests foul play, and will hunt down corrupt officials ruthlessly if need be. Overall Yerdana is a strong, driven individual with intelligence and many abilities, who at the moment is somewhat troubled by the Council?s decision to go to war. [B]Biography:[/B] The middle of three children, Yerdana was born to Ygal and Michale Tamari. She was the only one of the children to express the altered genes of her father, Ygal. As a survivor of the destruction of the research facility, Ygal and other freed specimens banded together as the factions began to form. Ygal met Yerdana?s mother Michale, an innocent from the Empire of Arcadia, later on when the foundations of Nadine City was just beginning to be built. Their first daughter was born soon after, and was named Yollana, after whom Yerdana came two years after, and then Mussa, the youngest child and only son. Childhood was spent growing as the city grew. Yerdana did not have a close relationship with either of her siblings. Since she was the only one to express her father?s mutation, her brother and sister developed a closer bond with each other instead. Ygal favored Yerdana in attention, as he would always encourage and tutor her in developing and practicing her abilities. Thus, she and her father had a very close bond, while with the other members of the family Yerdana was not so close to. Because she stole so much of their father?s attention, Yollana and Mussa were perhaps a bit jealous, and it was also true that they were never perfectly comfortable around Yerdana, and vice versa. All three children experienced all aspects of society as they grew up. They were born after the very founding of the city of Nadine, and so had humble beginnings. They watched as buildings went up, and a civilization started to grow. They experienced and participated in the very creation of a new society and culture. They were all taught the art of combat, were all familiar with warfare, as there were attacks every then and now. It was not long before the city was flourishing and beautiful, and the Empire of Arcadia entered the picture. Ygal was a Chief Justice on the City Council, and he would often call in Yerdana to sit in on meetings and learn. Yollana too would come at times, but she preferred to be with Mussa in other council meetings. Thus it was that Yerdana grew from meager beginnings, and experienced the explosion of the growth of a thriving and beautiful city. Because she saw Nadine City in all its development, she knows the workings of the city better than she knows any person, and is comfortably familiar with all its politics and issues. While her brother and sister bonded with each other, Yerdana formed an unbreakable bond with Nadine City, sharing not only her father?s abilities, but also his love for this nation in Asgard. To her, Nadine is a living, breathing entity that she shares a blood connection with. Ygal died three years ago under mysterious circumstances, of which Yerdana is sure was a political assassination. However, as there is no proof, she is unable to take action. Yerdana?s mother passed away soon afterward of sickness, following her husband into the afterlife. With connections to the Empire of Arcadia through their mother, both Yollana and Mussa left Asgard and immigrated to Arcadia, both securing positions in the government due to their own finely honed political skills. Yerdana, however, remained on Asgard, and took up a position in the Nadine City Council upon her father?s untimely death. She declined the position of Chief Justice, but is a strong and immutable force on the Council.[/COLOR] I hope you don't mind that I tied in my story with Goddess.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][B]Fire and Water[/B] - This one is nothing spectacular. It's a pretty little puzzle fit together, and clever, but nothing too amazing. I favor the water side - the description is more...interesting, and alive. I like [B]Leaf[/B] and [B]Silver Moon[/B] much much more. These two are both so short - just three lines each - but so much more effective. I find them much more touching and easy to relate to. The perspective that you write from is so original, and very interesting... Usually I dislike tense changes, but the ones you have seem very natural, and very fitting. It's a very new perspective, and one that I like very much. Nice work. ^_^[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[FONT=BookAntiqua][COLOR=Sienna]The bells tolled loud and clear, a beautiful sound in the mid-morning. It was going to be a beautiful day, with the skies already bright blue and free of clouds. Pigeons were wheeling in the sky, flying from various bell towers as the sound jarred them from their usual sky-high perches. People started to move into the buildings for morning mass, and Maree joined their ranks, letting herself go smoothly with the crowd. Still, even as she walked, she couldn't help but admire the sights and sounds around her. It was only her second time to Rome, and Maree couldn't help but admire the beautiful and detailed structures around her, wondering about the inspiration of the skilled artist or architect, and the many lifetimes of loving labor that had been invested to complete such a masterpiece. Her wonderment began anew as she walked inside of the grand church, feet gliding over the smooth, polished floors, and with even more to gaze upon around her. She dared to touch one of the reliefs, and became even more aware of the calluses that had been raised from the practice of her craft; the wood underneath was like watered silk, inviting Maree to caress it once more, but she turned away. Pausing once to gaze upon the great hall where mass was being held, Maree's eyes outlined the figures of the people that were all turned to listen to the sacred message being given: "...let not your heart be troubled and do not be afraid..." [I]A fitting word for today[/I], she thought, as the letter reappeared in her mind. The letter itself remained carefully folded and tucked into her sleeve. She continued to walk, the words of the priest echoing softly behind her. A quick scan, and then Maree pushed through a panel of the wall, and found herself in a different hall altogether. This one was a bit smaller, but still quite large; and simpler, with not as many fanciful carvings laced into the woodwork. The floor was polished marble, although a little dust had gathered in the corners. It was perfectly silent except for the quiet swish of the robe of the man pacing back and forth inbetween columns. Five chairs were arranged there as well, with one of them occupied by a dainty woman. The others were still empty. "Sister Bedeau." Maree looked up, her attention caught by the familiar voice of Father Emilio Giovanni. She walked to them, kneeling down gracefully in front of him. He placed his hand on her head for barely a second, and she rose instantly. "And how is your work?" he asked; a tiny smile made familiar creases in the lines of his face. She bowed slightly, "It is finished, and I delivered it earlier this morning, Father." Father Giovanni nodded, "That is well - we are lucky to have the Lord's words to copy down for ourselves and others." He gestured to the occupied chair, "This is Sister Carmita Arroyo. Sister Arroyo, this is Sister Maree Bedeau." Sister Arroyo rose, and Maree nodded to her, solemnly taking in the features of the woman. She found her slightly intimidating, despite the Sister Arroyo's stature, but was reassured to find an amiable look in the bright blue eyes of the elder sister. Father Giovanni gestured again, and Maree took a seat as well.[/COLOR][/FONT]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][RIGHT][B]Name:[/B] Nari Song [B]Age:[/B] 28 [B]Height:[/B] 5?6? [B]Appearance:[/B] A bit taller than average for an Asian woman, Nari is on the thinner side, with graceful limbs. Her complexion is pale for the most part, unless she is doing something physically active (such as combat), where she will get a small red flush across her thin cheeks. She has fine features, but one would never mistake her as weak ? her face has high, strong cheekbones, her nose is slender, and her eyes are beautifully slanted. She is elegant, graceful, and carries herself with a quiet assurance. Long locks of dark hair streaked with gray are always swept up in a braided, graceful up-do. Although she wears drab colors like most of the common folk, her outer shawl is a bright scarlet, making her easy to pick out; Nari favors dramatic colors. [B]Weapon:[/B] Along with a simple katana, wakizashi, and tanto, Nari carries a ring of shinais, as well as her specialized ?Meteor Hammer,? a length of rope tied at each end to a smal, densel metal projectile. [B]Personality:[/B] Very practical and realistic, Nari has no patience for those who make the same mistake twice, or are victims of their emotions. She believes that everything in life is a decision that one makes, and that events that happen to us are consequences, whether or not we understand. Because of her practicality, Nari can seem harsh at times, but it is not her intention - she is only trying to do the best for others, and sometimes can overlook the need for compassion. She finds attaching emotions, such as love, to be impractical, and tries to avoid things she has no control over. [B]Other Info:[/B] Born in Korea, her family moved to Japan when she was four. Other than that, Nari?s past is not known, except for the fact that she was disowned by her family. She is known for her signature bright scarlet color that she likes to wear.[/RIGHT][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]I'm getting the faint idea that this really isn't going to be starting up anytime soon... If I'm mistaken, please do correct me.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]Again, the writing is beautiful. I am constantly drawn back to this story again and again, because I cannot believe how perfectly it embodies what I would think of Itachi. It is interesting not only from the Naruto-fan sense, but also looking into the depth and complexity of being human, and how events can have such different effects on different people.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][B]Dying with Glory[/B] - I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I think it's a bit [I]too[/I] simple. Your work is beautiful and astounding because of it's simplicity, but then you have to be careful in going overboard with that - making it too simple to the point that it's boring. I think that this one has such massive potential, because the wording, the concept, and your way of illustrating and making words come alive to your audience. But in this piece, I think...I feel like it has no connection. You could make this into so much more than it is - add emotion to it. Dying with glory should have that sense of sacrifice, something to tug one's heart. In this piece...there really isn't much. [B]12 pt 2[/B] - Ah, so much better than your first draft. The colors sit much better with me, and the border is a nice touch as well. There is a [I]lot[/I] of empty space though, although I still haven't come to a decision on whether that detracts from the piece or not.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]Has anyone else noticed the date today? If you did, what did you think? Honestly, I can say that I didn't think about the 2,986+ lives taken in less than the span of two and a half hours. I didn't think about the fear and pain that the victims went through before death. I didn't think about the pain and tears that it still causes now. And I didn't think of the hijacking of four planes, the falling of two towers, the catastrophe at one of our government's most important focal points, or the brief, heroic efforts in the skies over Pennsylvania. To say it honestly, I forgot. Plain and simple. I didn't remember. [B][CENTER][I]September 11, 2001[/I].[/CENTER][/B] The second Pearl Harbor, the second 'Day of Infamy.' It was fire, and smoke, and ash. It was two hundred people jumping to their deaths to escape death by burning. It was box-cutters being used to turn planes into the "largest suicidal bombs in history" (Wikipedia). It was Todd Beamer and Jeremy Glick attempting to regain control of their aircraft, and coining the catchprase "Let's roll" that now symbolizes American valor. It was millions of students being filled by the images and sounds on television at school, and coming to a solemn realization. It was family members all over the country getting last phone calls from their loved ones. I remember one of my teachers saying that this was a day that we would remember forever. We would remember the exact time we heard the news, what we were doing, eating, wearing. We would remember our first initial reaction, and then the overwhelming effusion of emotion afterwards. It was kind of funny, because I [I]didn'[/I]t remember. When the teacher said that, I had to [I]try[/I] to remember, because I thought something would be wrong with me if I didn't remember everything about that day, and if I couldn't recall it in the future. Yes, I remember, but only because I thought I was supposed to, and it holds no real meaning for me. What I [I]do[/I] remember is the fact that the 9/11 attacks opened up a whole new world for me. I had never even heard of the WTC Twin Towers before, much less a Somerset County, Pennsylvania, or Camp David. I guess you could call me a very sheltered girl, in a small city in the sparsely-populated state of Idaho. Because of their blazing ends, I finally became aware of them. When I got home from school later that day, my mother was sitting in front of the television crying. It felt kind of...odd, to me. Perhaps the enormity of the situation was too hard to grasp for a 13-year old freshman, who had never had a personal encounter with death. This wasn't really any more personal either. But I remember asking her, "Why are you crying?" I was afraid that someone we had known had died in the attacks. And her answer... Well, she shook her head. She said that she was crying because she was sad. And that's when it finally dawned on me that these were real people dying, and that we were allowed to feel sorrow and pain for people we didn't know, and never would, both living and dead. The only time in the whole aftermath of the attacks that I came close to crying was a year later, I think. It was the anniversary of 9/11, and since only a year had passed, it was still very raw in everyone's mind. There was a newspaper spread, with full-page, full-color pictures, and one of them was a heart-stopping photograph of a person falling through the air as he jumped head-first out of the building. It shook me to the core, and tears came unbidden, although I managed in the end to suppress them. Although I (and I know many others) may complain of the cruelty of our race, or the insolence of the U.S., and the pompous and purely materialistic nature of our world, I must say the the depth of human compassion has always amazed me. How is it that we can feel sorrow and grief for one another, when some of us will never meet in our lifetimes? Directly after the attacks, there was enormous surge of patriotism around the country. There was an overwhelming gratitude toward servicemen and women not only in NYC, but the entire country as well. And there was also an unprecedented relief effort, with a dramatic increase in the number of blood donations, as well as the generosity of other donations as well. The country (and parts of the world) had a sense of unity as not felt since WWII. But now...well, now what? My first thoughts this morning when I woke were not about the events of September 11, 2001. No, I thought instead about getting ready for church - and even there they mentioned nothing. It wasn't until about 4 p.m. when I spotted a small online news headline that it hit me that it was 9/11. No one has mentioned it at all today. And I ask myself...how could I forget? Have we all forgotten? And I felt such a stirring of...guilt, and disrespect. How could I forget such loss of life, such tremendous catastrophe, such sacrifice? Yet, as I think about it now, I have to question this too. Is this just a part of the healing process? I don't believe that it's just a simple act of negligence - it is not in our nature to disregard such a dramatic and enormous loss. Some people say that time can heal all wounds, and I wonder if this is what is happening. But on the other hand, are we being disrespectful for those who are so bereaved? At what point is it acceptable to...well, to forget? Or perhaps to honor those who have made such sacrifice, should we remember every infinitesimal detail? Is it an act of betrayal not remember? And yet, how are we supposed to heal the wounds if we remember? [B]How do we heal?[/B] I think the question was valid then, and now, as in all great catastrophes of the human race. This is not only for 9/11, but for the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Hurricane Katrina, and all other events come and gone, and for those that will undoubtedly occur in the future. We are such creatures of compassion, as well as resourcefulness - we have the ability to feel overwhelming pain and sorrow, and yet still carry on with our day to day lives. How? How is it that we heal ourselves? And what is the proper and respectful way to carry out the process of healing? How can we forget, and still remember? Let go, and still keep precious those things lost? Prayers for the people.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][B]Unity[/B] - Very good coloring on this one, and I like the texturing it has as well. A nice piece overall, although... The font matches, but I think there could be better (of course, I have no idea what that would be). Also, I don't like how the underline connects with the small square in front - I wish they were separate instead, because it looks odd at the moment. Other than that, it looks quite spiffy, and I love the silhouettes. [B]Behind these Hazel Eyes[/B] - Do not like this at all. It's just too much at one time, and has just exploded on the page in a mess. There are too many effects/backgrounds/pattern thingies, and it makes it look...messy. The biggest thing is the squares all over her face - is she a quilt? And then all the different fonts/words around her...it reminds me of a dohnut shop crossed with a baby store, and it's not very attractive. I think it was a good idea, but just...went odd in the making. But I like the colors. ^__^;; [B]Play to Win[/B] - This is so cool! I'm not a very big fan of football (actually, I hate it), but this is excellent! I love the blurred-shadow effect on the words, and the colors complement each other quite nicely. Also, the image is very...matching, and distinct as well. Did you add the rain, or did it come in the picture already? I like it very muchly. I'm not a big fan of the orange lines in the bottom right-hand corner, but it would look empty without it, so...lesser of two evils, I suppose. Well done on this one. [B]Don't Lose Your Way[/B] - The colors and the concept of this are ingenious, and at first glance I love it all. However, on closer and longer examination, I'm not liking the top underline too much - it fades too much, and then makes it all look unbalanced. It has a nice simple feel to it, but maybe...too simple? It seems incomplete - either that, or something more should be done with the words. But it's a very splendid piece, and I applaud you.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]I am...in absolute awe. The story is so powerful already even in only the first chapter, and all I could think of at the end was that I wanted to read more! The most impressive thing to me in this is how you dictate so clearly the difference between a [I]genius[/I] and a [I]person.[/I] There are many times in which an author will attempt to get that across to the audience, but rarely do they ever succeed in such a manner as you did. The imagery is also outstanding, and the narration by Itachi is so...effective. One feels as if they have been placed exactly behind his eyes, watching his own life. It's brilliant the way that you've blended the essence of the child with the parts of the adult. It is an absolutely beautiful piece of writing, and I can't wait to see more.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][QUOTE]burn the cross in the church to show them how non-demonic Yugioh is.[/QUOTE]Wouldn't this...completely NOT prove your point? Oh yes, let's show them how non-demonic it is by burning something down. Perfect plan - my advice is not to try it. I understand that yes, there are some people in this world who take religion really to the extremes, saying HP is evil, that fiction is evil, that anime is evil...etc. However, I'm also pretty confident in the fact that usually this isn't the case. Really, have any of you attended any sort of Christian Asian church? Try it - you'll see there that in this case, it's almost weird [I]not[/I] to like anime. And seriously, I can tell you that it's not one of our priorities in Christianity to make sure that anime is proclaimed evil and to eliminate it from infecting future generations. Really people, there are a couple other things that take priority over that...=_=;; [I]Edit:[/I] And somehow we've also gained our own species name: [I]church people.[/I] I wasn't aware that we were so morphologically different that we needed our own classification.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][CENTER][B]Name:[/B] Maree Bedeau [B]Age:[/B] 19 [B]Gender:[/B] Female[/CENTER] [B]Appearance:[/B] A delicate look deceives all that Maree meets. She has an extremely slender figure that hides the strength of strenuous training. Pale coloring also gives Maree a somewhat ill look at times, but she is at the peak of health nonetheless. Her appearance is somewhat nondescript: cobalt-blue eyes, rust-brown hair, a snub nose, delicate chin, pale face, and an average height. In fact, because of her shorn hair and slender build, most will mistake Maree as a young boy, instead of a young woman, making her gender ambiguous to those that do not know her. On her back and arms she has sienna-colored tattoos, which are always hidden under her clothing. In the middle of her back are three, small cherubim faces, each with a pair of wings, and on her lower back מרים, meaning ?bitter.? A large cross has been placed in between her shoulder blades, and on her upper left arm are the Roman numerals VII, standing for the seventh Apostle Matthew. [CENTER][B]Personality:[/B] Taking literally into account her most adored spiritual figure [I]Our Lady of Sorrows[/I], Maree deems suffering as some sort of blessing. Ecclesiastes 7:3 is one of her favorite verses in the Bible: ?Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart.? She has a somewhat skewed sense of reality as a result of her childhood. Blood is not a surprising sight for her even though she is young, and death is no stranger. In fact, she has almost come to regard these things as normal. It goes so far as to the point where she feels something is off if there is no suffering. In times others will feel that Maree is unbearably cruel and unmerciful to her enemies in procuring their deaths, as she will prolong them. However, to Maree this is seen in the complete opposite ? she feels that the only way their hearts can be made good is if they suffer before death. So in her own sense, she is trying to save her enemies. Other than that, Maree has a very unassuming and innocent nature. She is wise, and yet incurs in others a desire to mother or protect her. By most in the church, Maree is seen as a child in need of guidance and protection, to be guarded and sheltered; thus, she is a favorite to most matrons in the church, for few of them know her role in Iscariot Section XIII. She accepts these small bits of comfort, and will play the part of a child for the sake of these older, childless women. Maree is an intense and concentrated seeker of knowledge, and the written word is precious to her. In the same way, she is a passionate student, and will take most advice as it is given. To give her a rare book or piece of writing is the best and fullest way to gain her tentative trust.[/CENTER] [B]Weapon:[/B] [I]Halberd[/I] ? Maree?s weapon of choice, it is a two-handed pole weapon, with an axe-blade set upon a 7-foot long shaft. The axe-blade was made from a silver metal imported from the Orients, forged in a specific folding method that made it almost impossible to break or wear. The blade curves longer into a scythe-like point, and on the back side there is a long hook and thorn for the purpose to taking down mounted opponents. The shaft is made of fire-hardened ash wood, and is reinforced with metal rims for the purpose of blocking other weapons. The latter two weapons are brought out only in special circumstances, and are usually kept under lock and key. [I]Qiangs[/I] ? Also imported from the East Orients, they are a set of identical spears that are lighter than the European constructs, and are ideal for flexibility in close combat, as well as for throwing long distances, and Maree is naturally an expert at both. [I]Awl Pike[/I] ? With an exceeding length of 22 feet, and the steel tip fairly long compared to the shaft, this is the heaviest of Maree?s weapons, and one she doesn?t use often. Indeed, it can be quite unwieldy in close combat, and needs special training to handle effectively. Maree has developed her own distinct style with this so as to be able to manipulate it successfully, but it drains strength and stamina from her very quickly, and it is rare in its uses. The only reason she has this weapon is for the devastating power and damage that it can cause. [RIGHT][B]History/Background:[/B] Born into a rich, aristocratic family, Maree was brought up in a pampered lifestyle in the beautiful city of Toulouse. The effects of the Hundred Years? War were still being felt, as was the death of the fabled Jeanne d?Arc. It was with the stories of this French heroine that Maree was brought up on, as well as her parents? strong hatred of the English. The three cherubim that grace Maree?s back are the effects of childhood, in which the stories included the descriptions of Jeanne d?Arc?s banner: pure white livery with three angels, or in some cases two angels with God. Sadly, Maree was raped as a very young child by a close relative. Her parents, because Maree was no longer a virgin, and because they wished to cover up this family misfortune, placed their small child into the keeping of a convent, donating extensive sums of money for her well-being and education. Throughout her life (and even now), the Bedeau family was a major support to the church financially, and it is because of this that Maree has VII tattooed on her arm. For Matthew, the seventh Apostle, also was an economic benefactor for the followers of Jesus, and was their bookkeeper; yet he did all his work in a quiet way. The presence of Matthew among Jesus? companions is also very comforting to Maree, for he represents those that feel themselves to be long since past the bounds of religious consolation, and still Jesus accepted all of these outcast souls. It is because of this that she feels such gratitude towards Matthew, for it is because of his place by Christ that she is assured that she too can have the hope to be accepted into the Kingdom, despite her tainted life and immortal sin. Inside the convent and raised by kindly nuns, Maree was quickly attracted to the ancient tomes and spiritual volumes of books. She was an extremely intelligent and quick learner, and immersed herself in multiple studies, acquiring vast amounts of knowledge. It was the one thing that she pursued with an obvious passion, and so the nuns encouraged it, also teaching her the skill of penmanship, letters, and writing. It was not long before Maree, though still a child, could exceed the older women not only in knowledge, but also in grace of penmanship. She was set to the task of making copies of books and texts, and did so with a mature style and beautiful skill. It was because of this dexterity with the hand and quickness of the mind that Maree attracted the attention of Iscariot, and they deemed that they would train her to become one of their members. Thus, they sent one of their respected members in the guise of a nun, and Maree was raised from the age of nine under the training regimen of Iscariot, and flourished. Even while in the convent, Maree?s family kept in contact, and at the age of seventeen both of her parents died under circumstances unknown outside the family. Control of all estates was given to a certain male relative, who was ironically the same that had raped Maree. He gave the strict ultimatum that Maree always had to be the envoy and courier of any business between the church and the family Bedeau, meaning that she had to come into direct contact with him. Although the nuns were very much against this, Maree gave voice and accepted the conditions willingly, knowing that the convent very much needed the financial support. It was then that she got the tattoo of Meryam in Hebrew, meaning ?bitter,? her only secret cry of her situation. What has happened to her since then she keeps an utter secret, and will reveal to no one. Yet in small cases, it is obvious of the effect on Maree?s disposition, which has grown more silent, hiding a deep sorrow, and her distorted sense of love and reality. It is also because of this that her trust is so tentative as well, for she fears betrayal. The only beings she trusts wholly are God, Christ, and Our Lady of Sorrows, although she still feels that because of her taint (the rape) that she will never be worthy, and through suffering is gaining some sort of repentance. However, this in no way has hampered her training or intuitive cleverness. She was just recently inducted into Iscariot Section XIII, and is at the moment in northern Italy, making a copy of the Miscellany (later to be known as the Rothschild Miscellany) before her return to Toulouse.[/RIGHT] [B]Snippet:[/B] ?It?s been such a long time? I thought you would perhaps be happier to see me,? he said, smiling. He was as beautiful as she remembered; with bright eyes and fair hair, he looked like an angel. How she had loved looking at him as a child, thinking that this could indeed be a prince of a far land. He had always snuck her a sweet before dinner, or retied her bow for her, or had given her a delicate trinket to adorn her small wrist. He had always been loving, and still was. Such love? Why, then, did it make her feel such despair? When she was a child, he had assured her that it was perfect, normal, that there was nothing wrong, and that he would never hurt her. She trusted him. What else could she have done at that age, when his approval had meant the world? And he had kept his word ? he had never hurt her. It was only afterwards that it hurt?after he had carefully cleaned the blood away. ?There?s always a little bit of blood at first love, darling. No worries dearest.? His voice still echoed in her head. Yes, he had never hurt her. It was only afterwards, when his face was gone, and when she tried not to remember what had happened, when she still couldn?t understand what had happened, and yet had a gut feeling that she had been horribly, horribly betrayed. And now he came closer again, his soft hand caressing the curve of her cheek? [B]Maree woke.[/B] She breathed deeply, and lit a candle. [I]Four-o?clock in the morning?and bad dreams already haunting me. He is too far away to hurt me right now...[/I] She slid out of the bed, quickly donning her habit, and putting on a dark cloak as well, before stepping out. She walked quickly, taking in the fresh, chilled air of the early morning. Coming to a building, Maree nodded to the guard as she went through the doors. The small scribe?s apprentice quickly came to his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and led her to her usual desk. Maree took off the cloak, and lit another candle. The boy came, carrying sheets of vellum, ink, pens, and a small scraping tool. A monk followed, carrying the Miscellany. She nodded to him in thanks, and he put the book down on her desk. She bent over her task, sharpening the quills before starting again. The words seemed to provide her some solace ? at least they cleared her head of memories. In their place, she would fill it with history and with scripture. ?Gold leaf next,? she said quietly to herself, picking up the small flakes, and carefully placing them onto the transparent vellum. And quickly, the early morning hours passed away, as did the bad dreams and dark thoughts? And so did the days pass for Maree.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]I applaud you! Your shading is very skilled, and the pictures are absolutely wonderful. I'm surprised at the lack of smudging you seem to have on your picture - very handy indeed. I especially like the lower image - his vest and personage are so well-drawn. The forehead scarf/band is absolutely beautiful with the work you put on the design, as well as the tie in the back. Very nice and skilled - it's been a while since I've seen something hand-drawn that I've liked.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][B]November[/B] - Hmm...not much to say on this one. I don't think it's spectacular, but it's not too shabby either. Just...sitting in the middle of the spectrum I guess. I do approve of the overall design - the only thing I don't like is that you can't read the little tiny words, so they look kind of...well, annoying is what I want to say. However, do realize that this is my bias, because I dearly love to be able to read everything. Other than that, quite nice. [B]SUBPAR[/B] - I am very much a fan of this piece. ^__^ Again a personal bias I believe, because I am a fan of all things Japanese... But I really do love the '8' for some reason. I've just never seen an '8' quite like that before...and it just has a very lovely and attractive quality to it. What is so alluring to me about this number? I'm being seduced by the '8.' =_=;; [B]Satellite[/B] - Oh, very clever design methinks. Yes, I am very much appreciative of this one. As [I]Ima[/I] says, the lettering design you have is very cool, and makes the image very attractive and...suave. ^__^ But is it off-center? - not the VA, but the square that's in front of 'satellite.' Whatever it is, it's throwing me off. Yeah, I think if you line that up to be on the center-line, then it will give a better...symmetry. Wonderful conversation. [/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]I've always been a fan of the Chinese For that is where cute Captain Shang is from But that's not what I want, so if you please Mulan just take that Captain to the prom! Instead my love goes to the perfect thing The shades of orange are bright and filmed with gold And I am hopeful that someone will bring This globe of perfect taste that has been sold. In supermarkets all across the earth And when I go to find that precious food The tast and joy of this will bring me mirth! For this embodies all that can be good. You pretty orange of the Mandarin, Made Ming Na happy, also known as Min! [I]I wrote this after I watched Mulan, and my mom had just bought a box of mandarin oranges. They were excellent.[/I][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]You have so many works, so I think I'll just comment on a few of the ones I favored. [B]Me and You[/B] - There is such a simple beauty to this. I love the feeling I get just as I read the first words: "[I]be still my heart...[/I]" It just gives me this feeling of a romantic classic; it's a Shakespeare sonnet with a modern touch. I'm reminded of the passion of writers past. Again, the simple qualities are the ones that make it so pleasing to the eye, ear, and heart. "Nothing short of amazing." [B]Casualties of Mail[/B] - This is such a clever piece! I'm usually not one who enjoys things with this sort of...harshness, with a touch of morbidity, but I was quite impressed just by the way you put things together in this. Usually people will combine letters and some sort of sentimental quality, or love, but you are entirely different! Instead of being whimsical, this piece makes a whole new definition for a 'love letter, although I have to say that I don't enjoy the last stanza as much - it seems...a different style, I think. Very impressive in whole, with a searing quality to it. [B]Reality[/B] - More wonderfully clever combinations of words here. It's just how you make words portray a whole original image in place of what would usually be thought. And even though you are speaking/writing of love that gives such a dreaming quality, there is also a retentiveness to the real world, and it's that down-to-earth quality that is so attractive. [B]Reading Between the Lines[/B] - This is so much more beautiful than a real break-up could ever be. It's very interesting to read, this dialogue between spoken words and hidden thoughts - you make the cliches entirely your own, and I applaud you. [B]Worst Seat in the House[/B] - Why do I love this poem? I really have no idea what to say about this, except that I love the concept of it all, tied with the metaphors of a theatre, and the separation of the ever-present balcony in love. Something out of reach... [B]Unspoken Love[/B] - So depressingly charming - depressing because of all the missed encounters; charming because of the careful structure. It's especially touching just because this sort of thing happens all the time in real life, and your poem portrays in such a lyrical way the botched process of finding love. [B]Tonight's the Night[/B] - This is just absolutely gorgeous. You have captured the absolute and beautiful innocence of first love, I think in this, and it's completely magnificent and radiant. There is such a delicate and fragile quality, so easily marred, and yet you've somehow managed to preserve it in its entirety. And while usually some of the phrases used would make it seem corny, melodramatic, or forced, every poetic hint in this is resplendent and carefully fitted. This is one night that is completely perfect.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][QUOTE]Hooker OK- Named after a General Hooker, a Union officer in the Civil war[/QUOTE]I feel like I'm in history class again, but it's ironic how happy I am when I remember that I learned about this guy. This said, around where I live there's a park called [B]Leslie Groves[/B], after Gen. Leslie Groves, who oversaw the Manhattan Project. The thing is that it's near the Hanford site, where they got the plutonium to bomb Nagasaki... It's kind of depressing, really.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]Shouldn't it be '[B]our[/B] hearts' and not 'out hearts'? Just checking... The girl has such cool features...I think you picked her out very nicely. The glare on her hair really isn't bothering me much, but I think I'd agree a bit with Goddess about how it's a little odd with no source of light. But I love how you matched the colors - now I know what color I should choose to dye my hair...if I ever do. ^__^;;[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]Well, there's a little "town" called [B]Bone[/B] somewhere in Idaho. It's kind of exaggerating to call it a town, or establishment, or anything to do with that, because it's basically just a gas station...and for some reason, people go there. Also, in Belize I came across the little village of [B]Teakettle[/B]. They have adorable names there. Sorry about not having solid evidence to go along with this.[/COLOR][/SIZE]