Baron Samedi

OOC: Chaos, I judged that after the post where you bashed the Drone, you were annoyed and frustrated, and took the liberty of providing an outburst that will return you to normal. Hope you don't mind. IC: Deep sat, staring at nothing. He had been infuriated, that that Arano had thought him weak, or pathetic for 'relying' on his prgram. That was before. Now, it didn't matter. Because [i]he[/i] knew that to survive you should always use everything that you have available to you, but never to be crippled without it. Use it while you can. Because nothing lasts forever. He ordered another cram soda, enjoying the representation of the flavour, praising those geniuses who had made Reploids able to taste, smell, know what humans felt. Reploids had the best of both worlds. They lived for longer, were stronger, smarter, quicker, could learn things way easier, but they could also feel, empathise, taste, smell. And now reproduce. Technology was marvellous. Now they needed to find a perfect personality. Because that was where the problems occurred. Like those who created the Sygnosis 40 virus. Why? People's minds are convoluted, and some people have never deserved to live. Especially those who willingly make others die, without a cause. He stood, and left the bar. Time for relaxing. He would need his energy tomorrow, presumably. Time to see his new Headquarters.

I, of course, think that I am mature. Don't most people? To many, the reality of themselves matters not, compared to what they want to think they are like. Only my friends/relatives could judge if I am mature, but it is better when you can see in yourself maturity, rather than think that you have maturity. Now, back to emotional maturity. Perhaps. I do not know. I tend to just get on with things, and not think about them. I don't mean that I purposely ignore them, but I just seem to forget about it. I am quite possibly self-centered, but I do try to think of others, I know what else is going on in the world, but it if isn't directly related to me... well it doesn't seem to matter so much. However it is this way with most people I believe. You hear on the news that someone died. Fine, it happens all the time. But then you find out that it was the parent of someone you know. Or brother, sister, friend, whatever. Does that not make it more real and pertinent? So it depends on your Point of view, as to whether a person is mature. I think that I am reasonably mature, but I will probably think that many more times, before I become what everyone would call mature.

Deep sat, comfotable in the sparseness of his room, reviewing his performance in the training area, and trying to forget the look of utter defeat on the faces of those who had not been accepted into the team. [i]An hour is passed in silent contemplation[/i] Figuring that he may as well explore some of this city whilst he was here, Deep stood, changing into a white jacket with black highlights for his trip into town. Kevlar material, of course. Oh, and for some added 'cool' some sunglasses as well. Black rims, reflective lens. He wandered the streets for hours, looking at the shops, the people, watching the sunset. Once or twice he saw some Reploids from the arena. The Reploids who hadn't made it. If they noticed him, they went out of their way to avoid him, but if they didn't, well, he thought it wise to leave them be. He eventually found his way to the military bar that the head Reploid...Cyan... had mentioned. He slid into a booth near Arano, and ordered a drink... [size=3][b]OOC:[/b][/size] How human are Reploids? Do we eat? Drink? How do we get sustenance? If we don't consume food, than I will change this. IC: Arano was just sitting there, staring at the table. Deep: Whats wrong? Arano: Did you see those ****ing drones? They [i][b]murdered[/i][/b] them. Don't you damn well get it? It was a MASSACRE! They are DEAD, can't you get that through your slow-*** processor? And that Cyan guy, he could have stopped them all along. And he let people DIE! How the hell could he do that? He could have SAVED them. They would still be here. And what was it all for? Some stupid test! [i]He goes back to staring at the table[/i] Deep: This may sound like psychiatric rubbish, but they [i]volunteered[/i] for Sygnosis. They wantd to help. Their deaths will save many others, and we should remember them. It was necessary to separate into those who can help, and those who only wanted to. Arano: I know. I know. But they are dead. And those tough-*** drones..... They were controlled by this wafer thin ****ing remote. I know all what you said, but it also seems needless waste. Deep: I know. [i]He tries to forget the anguish on the faces of those who had not passed the trial[/i]

I don't think that I am allowed to tell some of my dreams here. IF you are really interested PM me. R18+. :p Some of my dreams have been very strange though. One time I was an Emperor in a car park, and I was talking to my Advisor, and someone pushed a trolley into me, and I chucked a spaz at them o.0 What is wrong with me?

I would have telepathy, be able to fly, and slow down time heaps so I could do whatever I wanted in my own timeframe. I have explained this further in another, older, thread.

Sorry to cause a mix up but I have edited my posts, would you please re-read them and edit your own if you mention me in it. Sorry bout that. Once they are edited, I will delete this message.

I love having sick days. The problem is I have only ever faked it once, and had maybe 14 sick days off, in 9 years of schooling. Bleh! about 10 of those days were when I had chicken-pox. So I have had mabe four other days in my life. It isn't fair. Sick days are fun, just stay at home, in your PJ's all day. Fun. Watch tele, Eat, Surf the net. The good life.

Heh, a few years ago when I had showers I nearly always made up a new tune, or lifted a tune from another song, and made up my own words to it. Only problem is that I forgot the songs once I got out of the shower o.0 Damnit.

I used to sing in the shower, until I caught my mum listening at the door. :blush: Embarassing. Now I just think mainly. And I find out how to solve all the problems in the world, and then I forget coz my mum yells at me to get out of the shower. "You've been in there for 10 minutes, get out NOW" She just doesn't appreciate my genius.

Interchangeable parts... hhmmm. ACCESSORISE! BRIGHT NEW STYLES FOR EVERYONE! BUY 2 GET 1 FREE! The glorious commercialism of Sex gets taken to a whole new level... Not necessarily a neutral personality, but more of a duel-compatible one. Wouldn't that be interesting though? NEW STYLES AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL STORE!

There is a third sex, they are called herma... well, I suppose I shouldn't put this [i]here[/i] should I?.... I mean, it is a family boards.

[i]Half an hour passed. Then another fifteen minutes. Deep was ready.[/i] The tissue wounds would have been serious enough for a human, but to a Reploid they were nothing. Slightly annoying, but nothing more severe than that. He crawled out from behind the dumpster on his hands and knees. He needed to get into the air, outside where he could stalk, and not be hemmed in by walls. He activated his defense program and left the maze of alleys. As he was creeping around, looking for an ?easy? kill, despite the fact that the drones are never ?easy? to kill, he saw the glimmer of a glass lens, nestled in the corner of a building. Using Optix he zoomed in on the flash, and saw a tiny button camera. Ah, they were obviously watching everything that went on in the training facility. For a laugh, he waved at the camera, then continued on his way, before remembering that they wouldn?t have been able to see the wave, as he was voided. Damn. He contemplated going back for another go, but was interrupted by the sound of a Drone loading up its? weapon. He spun, looking for the source, but found none. Wait. There in the alley was a big box on treads. It had obviously gotten a Reploid cornered, and was preparing to kill it. In void, Deep snuck up to the side of the Drone, and, placing his hands lightly against the side of its? weapon, fired his Nitrogen/Plasma blaster. The Drone spun towards him, but there was no serious damage to it, just a half-melted dent in its? side. Deep ran, and dived threw a window, into a mock-up of a green-grocers. Scanning the room for Drones, he saw a Reploid crouched down near a window. Deep crouched down, and moved forward, Deep: Who are you? What?s your name? Any reply was lost in an avalanche of sound as the Drone rolled straight through the outer wall of the store. Deep: ?.. [size=3][b]OOC: [/size][/b] This better Chaos?

To be a girl, or not to be a girl.... That is the question.... Sorry, I could not resist that. Girls always seem to mix and make friends easier, but then again, they are also bitchy (apparently). Plus the Cycle, giving birth etc. With the birth thing there is pain, but on the flipside you have a very intimate connection with the child. Women aren't treated as well. So many variables. I do not know if I would be different if I was a female. Well, as in personality-wise anyway o.0 .... Hey, at least I would have a girls body. lol. But then I probably wouldn't be so interested in it. Hhhmmm. And guys would perve on me if I was hot *gags*. Nah, I'll just stay a guy I suppose.

Poisontongue, you have some of my profoundest respect. And though I commonly disagree with you, so do you Drix-D'Zanth. You make the longest, most argumentative, [i]sensible[/i] posts that I see, and you both seem to know what you are talking about. Impressive. In fact, I am often in awe of your posts. I [i]could[/i] make posts like that, but I lack the motivation, and sometimes knowldege to make such good posts. 'Grats. What you said about the human heart lea was very interesting. Side Note: Why are you excusing yourself for writing Yahweh down? I am reading Servant of the Bones by Anne Rice, and she has used it quite a few times, in widely published text. Hhhmmm. Anyway, if it gives offence to Jewish people, then please excuse me for writing the name. I am just asking if it was impolite...

Spinning back to face the drone which he had first seen, the one with the rockets, Deep calculated the approximate aim and positioning of the rockets. For now he did not worry with the machine-gun toting Drone behind him, but focused on the rocket launching one. The rockets fired. Eight of them, four from each Rocket arm. Eight?nine. He had a plan, but this plan was almost ruined by the ninth rocket, which fired out of the Drones torso. Deep decided to go ahead with his plan. He leapt, doing a cartwheel in mid-air (think Matrix), just as the rockets were level with him. He dodged One. Two. Three. Four of them. Five. Six. Seven. Eight past. Nine. He landed, crouching, and looked over his shoulder, just as a fiery blast ripped down the alleyway, obscuring everything with a dense cloud of smoke. Silhouetted against the moon, was the ruined body of the second drone. The first ones rockets had gone straight into it, causing massive damage. Deep straightened himself, and turned back to the first drone. He then heard a whistling behind him. [size=1]Nov.Concord.Def.Dep.Sygnos.Info>drone30014. Arsen.=Arm.mount.rocket. =Guide.Chest.fired.rocket. =Machine.gun [/size] With the speed of thought only available to a computer-processed mind, Deep determined that it must be the ninth rocket. A guided one. Coming to the inevitable conclusion, Deep raced towards the drone, pistons pumping madly, trying to outrun the rocket. The drone loaded its? machine gun, and managed to loose a few rounds into his chest, but Deep?s momentum was too great, and he dived, skidding along the ground, between the treads of the Drone. His momentum carried him under the drone, and perhaps 5 metres further down the alley, before he was deafened by a tremendous ?boom? and the Drones? body went flying into his back, slamming him into a wall. The guided rocket had hit the Drone. Deep pushed against the wall, trying to move the Drones? now lifeless body off him. It tipped over, and Deep fell to the ground. [size=1]Tissue damage: 5 bruising :11 minor grazes : 2 Deep slashes : 1 internal system breach SysCheck: 981% Operational and fit.[/size] The internal armour had slowed down the bullet a lot, so only minor internal damage had been received, but Deep was not in much condition to continue at the moment. Dragging himself behind a dumpster in the alley, he activated the nano-technology ?surgeons? inside his system. They would breakdown the bullet inside him, and use the metal from that, plus any salvageable armour, to patch the hole in his chest. About half an hour before Deep would be tackling any more Drones. [Note: Nano-technology is kind of real, they know about it now, IRL, it doesn?t make Deep invincible, just helps to repair minor internal damage. Some Reploids have this function, but most don?t.] [i]As Deep recovers in the alley[/i] The small room is crowded, with Humans and Reploids. Inside there is so much gold braid that it is glaring, and enough medals to sink a boat. The real powers of Novus Concordia, both Military and Civilian are watching and recording information from every single camera in the Test Arena, or as it is more commonly called, the 'Building Area'. Each Reploid is being assessed by another A.I computer, which prepares graphs on their performance and skill. They will need all the skill they have to survive tonight?s little get-together. Plus, there is a nice surprise waiting at the end of it...

Neo Cortex is cool, but my fav evil fella (Note: I hardly ever play mah Sony any more...) is N. Tropy, Neo's sidekick, he appears in Crash Bandicoot:" Lost in Time, or whatever it was....o.0. Anywho, I like him, coz he looks cool, has a mad goatee, controls time, fights you with a fork, and has a cool accent. ooh, ooh, ohh. Or Tiny Tiger. He is soooooo much fun. Plus he has this groovy armour...

OK, maybe being kidnapped by James wouldn't be so bad. I dunno. two questions. Will I get to phone my mum, Will he Feed me yummy food, and will I get to use an awesome computer and still come on OB. *reads post* Damn, I can't count. o.0

[michellebranch] KEEP AWAY FROM ME CREEP!! *shrieks* GET HIM BONZO! *Heaven's Cloud is mauled by toy poodle* Good Boy. *Dog trashes altar*[/michellebranch] Ahem, yes.... I know my dog loves me (or I reason that, because she looks so... cute at me. Do they go to a school to learn that look?) But worship me? I mean, I can't even hurl lightning bolts (or dog bones), so whats the point. God, and Mother probably mean nothing to animals anyway, but who knows?

(directed at Otakusennen)[dad]Come here now boy, your off anime and manga for the next 3 years. You'll become a violent individual if you read too much of that rubbish, and it is bad for you[/dad] lol My mum doesn't like it either. But the thing is, with MSN and AIM, the only people whose things you have is people who have personally given them to you. And most people on OB come from America, and it isn't like I am giving them my exact address or anything. Hell, 1 person on OB knows who I am, and he lives in the same town as me, and is my best bud. I agree that parents only have what they think are your best interests at heart, but on the flip-side they need to be able to trust you somewhat more. I know what I am doing. Hell, all I do on the net is email, MSN and OB. And if I did anything else, it would only be games. Nothing serious or dangerous there. But they do love you and want to look after you. *hits James* 'Put that sack down NOW!! I won't hop in the car with you, and SCREW YOUR 'SWEETIES" :p

I am scared of.... hhhmm. Well, I hate embarassing myself. I think spidres are freaky. And..... Oh, pain. *shudders*. What kind of [insert religious theory here] (no need for a science one, coz it is for self-preservation but...) anyways, what kind of..... would make pain. Fools. lol :p

Lets see. I cry when I get hurt badly, or sometimes I get watery-eyed if a movie is really sad. That is about it. It is so embarassing if I start getting watery-eyed at school though, like if I get hit or whatever, it is so hard to hold it in. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a wuss, but it happens on occasion. So embarassing. Bah.

Let us see.... I eat heaps. Instant-Pig I read heaps. Instant-Worm I revel in driving crazily on games. Instant-Hoon I think only of myself sometimes. Instant-Poodle I am cynical and sarcastic. Instant-Me. So technically I am a piggish, worm-like, crazy-***, upmyself, jumped up, Me. Just like most people. :p I am sure I have good characteristics too, but there you have it. [Note]: Depending on what you think of me, this may or may not be entirely true. Read into it what you want, but I am better than this. Slightly. :p

[size=3]OOC[/size]: I am editing these posts, seeing as I 'wrecked' Chaos' plan. Should be finished soon. Would anyone who mentions me please edit their posts and remove me, just a slight problem under way. SHould be cleared up by tomorrow IC: Deep scanned his immediate surroundings, on the lookout for any more of those Drones. Seeing none, he decided to scout around, and try to ambush one un-awares. He activated his Defense Program [size=1]Swan.Indus.Def.Prg?Active[/size] Stealth. Silent, sneaking, unseen death. What Deep was all about. Assassination. The only problem with this was that the drones were slightly harder to kill than your regular enemies. Ok, he had to face it: They were [i]much[/i] harder to kill. Better weapons, better defense, better armour. Some were faster, and agile. Some were great big weapons-on-wheels and they were [i]all[/i] extremely deadly and dangerous. Deep thumbed the stud on top of his quarterstaff and it reverted to its regular small cylinder shape. He tucked it into an inner pocket of his jacket, and instead activated his Plasma/Nitrogen Blaster. The system lines were checked, the nitrogen pumped, the plasma primed and two small pieces of ?skin? on his palms parted, leaving metal rimmed holes in their place. These holes were covered by a thin membrane-like sheet of transpari-mesh which kept outside air or grit etc. from getting into the weapon-mouth and clogging the supply lines. Any Drones or Reploids who had been watching very carefully would have seen patches of grass, approximately a footstep length apart, bending under an invisible weight, as, quiet as a dream, Deep stealthily hunted his target: A drone which was heading down an alley, probably in an attempt to flush out any hiding Reploids. Grass flicked dew onto Deep?s pant legs. This place was so real, and so [i]intricately[/i] designed, that it shocked Deep. The level of detail was?. Well, amazing. This alley was barely wide enough for the drone to turn, without bashing it?s weapon attatchments against a wall, but it seemed unfazed. Obviously they were made to view Reploids as inherently inferior, and no large threat. The void program blocked sight. It blocked heat. Blocked Sonar. Night-vision. Bent lasers. It?s only two faults were it?s susceptibility to projectile weapons, and it didn?t block sound. Deep trailed the Drone into an alley. Softly, silently, wary for any stray pieces of rock or debris, he followed, silent on impact-cushioned sneakers. Deep launched himself onto the back of the drone, and pressed both his hands against the sides of it?s head, firing his Plasma/Nitrogen blaster. The front of the drone?s forehead bulged, cracked, then popped. Fizzing wires and bits of circuitry, half molten from the plasma?s heat littered on the ground in front of the Drone. Despite this undoubtedly fatal damage, the Drone was still functioning. Its? torso rotated, and its? blade extended, taking a chunk out of the wall as it turned. Deep jumped backwards to avoid the blade, simultaneously cursing himself, as he reviewed the essential data they had been given. A drone?s ?brain? was located in its? central body, not the ?head?. Once again dodging the sweeping blade, he crouched, launching himself up, pushing off either side of the alley with his legs, forming an Oxy-Exploder in his hands, dropping it into the gaping hole where the Drone?s head used to be. He dived through a window in the building?s side, rolling into the wall, dazed. He shook his head, executing a sytems check. Minor tissue damage, but no debilitating problems. He activated the Oxy-bomb, blocking his ears to save his ear-drums. A shockwave rolled through the room, plaster falling in a fine dust from the ceiling. Deep brushed himself down, and jumped out of the window to assess the damage to the Drone. Its? armour was split, and three of its? weapon arms had fallen off, the blade function stuck in a wall at the end of the alley. Its? interior system was a mess. Totally destroyed. As Deep was smiling at the blade stuck into the brick of the wall at the far end of the alley, he heard a noise. The crunch of something rolling over gravel. At one end of the alley a Drone rolled up, turned and prepared to fire its? rockets. Deep turned, but there was another one at the other end of the alley. They must have heard the Oxy-bomb going off. A plan began to form itself on Deep?s Strategy Drive. He smiled. If this went to plan it should be easy to dispose of these two Drones.

Good old Australian-ness. However, due to some warped reason, I have a slightly American accent. My dad lives elsewhere (he is American) and I see him for maybe 3 weeks in a year. But heaps of people ask me if I am English or American etc. I find it really odd, because I don't think I have an accent, and definitely not an American one o_0 weird. Conspiracy, obviously.

[size=1] 4 opponents ...Assessing Critical Data..... Drone/4tier..Model 803.8aa.Nov.Concor.SecurityDrone [/size] Deep activtated his program... [size=1]Swan.Indus.Def/Prog-Active-1000%[/size] His image blurred, shimmered, and disappeared. A few of the Reploids around him gave a start, as he was invisible to all their sensors, but most of the trainees were focused on the barrage of fire coming from the Drones. Deep made a dive out from the cover of a large chunk of road, and rolled to rest behind a tree-trunk. Despite his defense prgram, Deep takes a circuitous route towards what his sensors determine as Droid #3. The soft rustle of grass, the cool-ness of an artificial breeze. From under his jacket he pulls out his Quarterstaff canister,depresses the stud and activates it. He scales a nearby building,careful to avoid dislodging the jagged remnants of a blast, reachoing the rooftop. He looks down at the drone in the alley and leaps, quarterstaff raised over his head, attacking the Drone, using the benefit of his weight to crush its sensor array. [i]Drone #3: Weight increase 72kg. brrrrrrr. No known assailant. brrrrrr. Evidence: Sensor malfunction. brrrrr. Conclusion: Fire at Targets, Ignore weight. [/i] Big mistake. Those Reploids who had yet hung back gave an exclamation as one of the drones emmitted a flash of sparks, and its' machine-gun style weapon arm bent on a strange angle and began to leak hydraulic fluid. A group of Reploids charged at the drone, led by the Reploid who had shown up late for the briefing session. Deep smiled... [size=1] Memory-Timer: 2:37.38 Aww Crud...[/size] He de-voided and assisted the other Replopids in disabling the large drone. Three Reploids at the back were suddenly mown down by bullets fired from Drone #2. The group scattered for cover behind chunks of concrete and earth. Three more drones left to go yet, people. Deep activated his Plasma/Nitrogen attack system.