Doukeshi

Crawford stood before the team, his hands clasped firmly behind his back in a buisness like pose. "I think the best course of action is to attempt a rescue ourselves, we know the terrain and the girls need our help." Unusual for the quartet of assassins to do anything unless there was profit or gain the plight of these girls tugged at them all, especially the Oracle and the telepath. Schuldig nodded his head in agreement, raising himself up from his chair he made his way to the door. "Ya, we should leave immediatley..." Resting a hand on Schuldigs shoulder Brad nodded, indicating for the rest of the team to follow. "Any questions?"

"Ah hey now, it was an accident!" Jerith grumbled as he jogged along after the long striding soldier, struggling to keep up with his purpousful steps. Apparently they were goin to acquire some supplies, most likely from the local store just at the edge of the town. "Ye know...Ah could get us some supplies, real cheap like...save us a bit o'much needed cash?" Jerith offered his not so, valid talents to Ronan who just turned and glared at the theif over his shoulder. "I will not be reduced to common theivery." "Och..." Jerith grumbled. [i]Just like an imperialist to be so stuck up.[/i] Stuffing his hands in his pockets and scuffing the ground like a scolded child Jerith followed along, absently scratching at one of the cuts that marred his neck.

Schuldig look up at Crawford, a small frown creasing his brow. "They're being persued, they need our assistence." At this Crawford stood and raised a hand to his face, removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. Nagi, so quite seated in the corner of the room voiced his opinion in a level voice. "And how exactly are we to assist them? We are in Japan right now, if you had forgotten...they are in the Swiss Alps." Crawford pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead attempting to think of a suitable answer. Schuldig rose from his seated position with an irritated sigh, his frustration clear upon his face. "There must be something we can do, we cannot leave them to Rosenkruez, it's a fate worse than death!" Crawford held his hand up for silence, closing his eyes tightly as flashes overtook his mind. [i]A house, small but secluded...snow...basement, concealed..."[/i] Looking up at Schuldig who stood before him, glaring in his direction expectantly. "Well?" "There is a small cabin not far from their position, it is secluded, hidden in the forest. If they hide there then the soldiers will not find them, I have seen it" Ushering the telepath to relay the message Crawford replaced his glasses and clasped his hands behind his back. Those girls would not return to that hell hole, not if he and his companions had any breath left in their bodies.

Breathing heavily Jerith look about, bewildered as to the events that hd just taken place. "Alright...tha' was, interestin'" Stepping forward he stooped slightly to trail his fingers through the white residue that the smashed masks had left upon the blood stained ground. Pressing a tentative finger to a thin cut that marred his forhead he winced slightly and turned to glance at Ronan. "So, were they friends o'yourn?" Jerith ask, a hint of sarcasm tinting his thickly accented voice. Ronan snorted and gave Jerith a withering glance. "They were no friends of mine terrorist, I had assumed they were allies coming to your aid." Jerith turned on his heel and stormed up towards Ronan, a look of anger corssing his normally placid features. "Ah am no' a terrorist!" Jerith instantly found himself hoisted up by the lapels of his jacket, staring into the face of a cold imperial soldier. "Then why did you steal my insignia, impersonate a soldier and cause war between our two cities. I should have you hanged!" Ronan snarled in Jerith's face. Jerith turned his face away, wincing slightly at the tone of Ronan's voice. "That was nay me. Okay the stealing part was but that's what Ah do, Ahm a theif." Ronan raised an incredulous eyebrow, dropping Jerith to the floor. Jerith collpased with a small thud. Voicing a grunt Jerith looked up at Ronan from his position on the ground, rubbing the sore spot where his rear had connected with the solid earth. "Cheers."

Crawford started as Schuldig pitched forward in his chair, clasping his head in his hands, with a pained cry. Striding forward Crawford kneeled down beside the telepath, a worried frown creasing his brow. "What is it Schuldig?" Schuldig gritted his teeth as he made a pained reply. "It's them, it's the girls from Rosenkruez...so loud" concentrating his thoughts Schuldig managed to make a reply [i]please, softer, quieter[/i] gasping for air Schuldig raised his head, smoothing his flame red hair back in a dignified motion. "There, that's better" Crawford rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with one forefinger. Standing from his crouched position he folded his arms across his chest and loked down at Schuldig. "What do they have to say? Do they tell us where they are?" Noting the look of concentration on his companion's face Crawford waited for a reply. ----------------------------------------- OOC: I will edit soon, I have to go now

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Ben [/i] [B]Clarify this for me Mitch, please. You're saying that the slaughter of millions of innocent people [I]could[/I] be viewed as a [B]good[/B] thing to do? Based on a different perspective, I mean. Just because Hitler saw it as right, it was an okay thing to do? Granted, people went along with it; people believed it. But the intended end (the "purification"), whatever the perception, does not justify the means. Think about it Mitch. [I]Millions of [B]innocent[/B] people.[/I] Just because a few people view it as right doesn't make it a good thing. Granted, I'm willing to admit that just because the majority of people view it as a bad thing, that it is not [B]evil[/B] based solely on their perception. Tell me this too, if I murdered your family because I thought it was right, I should get off scott free while you sit at home crying in a puddle of your parent's blood and I am free to kill again? That just makes no sense to me. [/B][/QUOTE] I think you're missing the point. Mitch's post was trying to clarify that there is no evil, merely bad deeds. The actions take by Hitler and serial killers, murders, rapists etc, are bad, horrible deeds but they are not evil. Also, just because something is not evil does not mean that someone gets off "scott free". If someone robs you they don't get let off, they get arrested, but they aren't evil just because they rob you. And where you say "Just because a few people view it as right doesn't make it a good thing." It's a good thing to the people who do it, it's a bad thing to you, the beauty of perception.

OOC: are people okay with the dialect I'm using or would you prefer I use normal speech? ------------------------------------------ Jerith stumbled backwards under the enslaught of the masked woman, parrying each of her blows with only slightly enough force to keep himself from being sliced into so many parts. Skipping to the side, avoiding a well placed lunge he dropped to the ground, pressing his palms against the dusty floor. Lashing out he swept his legs underneith his attacker, catching her momentarily off balance and sending her tumbling to the floor. Grasping the hilt of his dirk firmly in his right hand he struck downwards only to be met with hard firm earth where her body should have been. "Wha?" Looking about wildily in a bemused fashion all Jerith could see was the heated struggle between the Imperial soldier and the masked man. His eyes widened in fear as stepped back slowly, attempting in vain to find the woman. "Ah foolish White Lasin, don't you know to always keep your eye on the target?" A chilling, whispered voice sounded from behind him. Spinning erratically he lashed out with his dirk, only to find thin air where he was sure the voice had come from. "What are ye talkin'! Ahm no' this White Lasin fella ye keep keenin' on about!" Stepping forwards Jerith was met with a harsh kick to his lower back, sending him sprawling in the dirt. Rolling onto his back Jerith felt the hard weight of a booted foot pressed against his chest. The woman leaned forward onto her knee, grinding her heel down against Jerith, causing him to gasp in pain. "You cannot save yourself with lies White Lasin, your death will be at my hand." Bringing her blade across she pressed the cold steel of the blade against his throat, a small trail of blood collecting at the edge. Reaching down with her left hand she caressed his cheek almost lovingly, tutting slightly as she felt goosebumps rise up against her touch. "No' bloody likely!" Pulling his body backwards he brought his knees up under the woman, sending her careening over his head and into the wall behind him. Flicking hismelf onto his feet he wiped at the blood dripping from his neck, gathering his blade up into his hand. "I'd like t'keep ma blood inside o' ma body thankye".

Jerith held the sword before him uncertaintly. This guy was angry, real angry. "Look sorry pal, Ah did'nay think it was worth that much to ye." All other words were prevented from escaping his lips as their blades crased together with a harsh sound of ringing metal. Yelping slightly as the vibrations of the sword lanced up his tense arms Jerith stumbled backwards, attempting to dodge Ronan's savage enslaught. Glancing a blow across his blade Jerith turned and shoved Ronan bodily into the hard brick wall of a nearby building, digging his shoulder hard into the man's ribcage. Discarding the sword Jerith lept back as Ronan swung blindly, an enraged roar ripping from his throat. Flinging himself to the side Jerith rolled nimbly to his feet unsheathing the elven dirk strapped to his left leg. Brandishing it before him he lashed lithely forward, his techniques much more suited to the lighter blade. Dodging underneith Ronan's blows Jerith lunged forward, scarring a sharp thin line across his opponents torso. "Ah dinneh want t'hurt ye pal. Jus' calm down!"

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by DeathBug [/i] [B][font=century][size=1] I'm sorry, but some things are [b]evil[/b], and I don't care who you are or what your perceptions are.[/size][/font][/quote] oh really? Then doesn't that completely null the point of a debate or in fact, a conversation? [quote][size=1][font=century]So, when asked the question, "What is [b]evil[/b]?", the answer is "Whatever you think it is"? That's a cop out.[/quote][/size][/font] No it isn't a cop out because everything is based on perception. Just because society deems something as evil does not define it in concrete. A different society maybe deem that as acceptable. For instance in some cultures it is considered a damnable sin to chew your fingernails or suck a cut because it is considered cannibalism and therefore 'evil'. No matter how severe you think the action whether it is evil or not is always based on perception. [quote][size=1][font=century]I might be open to debate on the exact meaning or nature of [b]evil[/b], but to say it doesn't exist screams of ignorance. some actions are evil no matter who you are or how you percieve them.[/quote][/size][/font] I reiterate my previous argument and add that to rule out all others opinions in favour of your own stubbord defenition is [i]ignorance[/i]. [quote][size=1][font=century]Ask the Holocost surviours about Hitler. Explain to them that you don't believe what they think. Tell them that hItler is only [b]evil[/b] from one point of view, and that if you look at it another way, he's just misunderstood. If you're defending Hitler, your argument just died. You're done, hit the showers, better luck next time.[/quote][/size][/font] I can explain to holocaust survivors that Hitler was not evil, and i would if I knew any. If you look at the facts then Hitler was not evil. Nor was he misunderstood. The actions he sanctioned were horrendous it's true, however, you do have to look at the reasons behind these actions and other actions in comparison to that. You say that saying something is evil by perception is a cop out? Well saying something is evil just as a dismissal is just as big a cop out I'm afraid. Here's a wake up call for [i]you[/i]. Evil doesn't exist in the way that you think. You say killing someone is evil. Okay, are the mentally disturbed, did they have a reason? Until you get inside someones head you can't define them as simply 'evil'. You can call a person bad, you can call an action wrong, disturbing, horrifying...but evil...thats only something you find in story books along side the 'evil' queen in snow white and the emperor in star wars.

Okay, so what would you define evil as. You say that we are evil at the core, but what does that mean exactly. We are imperfect yes and are mostly animal in our instincts and functions but what defines us as mostly evil?

It is possibly that you could have had a panic attack, they aren't uncommon among students. I myself have had several. Usually these things can be brought on by something like stress or illness and are possibly hightened by small stressful actions throughout the day (e.g gym, the annyong guy, couple with the cold etc.) You most likely felt relieved to be around your friends because it is a safe and protected environment. You are close to your friends and that calms you down and makes you feel safe. In a sense it is your "happy place". I don't claim to know anything about your family or social situation but maybe your friends know more about you and are closer to you than your actual family, making it feel like a better, less confused place for your mind to be. If the depression and anxiety continues I suggest that you seek advice from someone who knows a little more on the subject such as your doctor or maybe the school councellor.

I don't know how well this thread is going to be recieved, though I believe in the "you don't know until you try" method of working. How do you define evil? Evil has become a very generalised word such as using the word to describe a fairly nasty or cruel act that a human being does to another person or animal. Does this, however, truly define the meaning of evil. When do the actions of a person become so terrible as to be categorised as evil and can someone be truly evil? I myself believe that there are no evil people, just evil actions. I don't believe Hitler was an evil person for instance, he had many good and socially benifical ideas. I just believe that many of his other actions could be considered wrong, defined by their cruelty and barbarous nature. I don't even like using the word evil, to me it seems to be a term used in conjuncture with the pure separation of black and white, something only found in stories and movies. Therefore, is anything truly evil and can something be seen as evil in even the most forgicing of eyes?

Lorna...and to all you people who thought I was a guy, Hah! to you. Anyway, thats pronounced like Laura but with an 'N'.

Jerith's eyes widened in shock as the words "declaration of war echoed about the walls of the silent room. As the commotion broke out Jerith clung to the wall, melding into the shadows like a good theif can. Searching for a quick exit he spotted a small door slightly hidden by one of the elaborate drapes that hung from the walls. Heaving the door open he slid through unnoticed leaving the shouting elders behind him. Running out into the darkening street he grasped the buckle in his hand and threw it as hard as he could away from him. The golden object skittered across the dusty road and came to rest among a selection of discarded vegetable peels, glinting in the fiery lamplight. Running as fast as he could he tried to ut as much distance between him and the town hall, now swarming with outraged elders and guardsmen. Coming to a halt near the door of what looked to be a library of some sort Jerith rested his back against the wall, resting his head in his hands. "War? What the hell d'they want a war fer?" Letting out a growl of frustration he lashed out, thudding his fists against the bricks of the wall. What was he to do now. If there was a war all hell would break loose and nowhere would be safe, least of all for a respectable theif like himself. ------------------------------------------------------------------- OOC: If anyone would like to haul Jerith into the plight of the white lasin now would be a good time since I'm running out of ideas for the lad.

Jerith looked around hismelf with wide, wary eyes. He was now inside the town hall, surrounded on all sides by guards, soldiers and council members. Fingering the golden buckle nestled in his pocket he tried to calm his racing heart. "Oooh laddy..." He breathed slowly, trying to find an exit that wasn't covered with twenty guards. Scratching the back of his neck absently he was ushured forwards by the two guards who had tackled him previously. Entering through a doorway barred by large, ornate oaken doors Jerith whistled lowly as he caught site of the large ebony table that stood in the center of what appeared to be some kind of board room. The ceiling was raised high, producing an echo of his footsteps as he wandered around the room. "Please Master....?" The guard looked at him questioningly "Ah, Jerith." Jerith offered hesitantly "Master Jerith, seat yourself at the table, the council will be with you shortly." Jerith nodded and sat himself slowly upon one of the large cushioned chairs, tapping his fingers nervously upon the hard wooden surface. "Och you've bin' and gettin yersel' in a whole load o' trouble here Jerith mah boy." Jerith whispered to himself, casting slight glances at the large doors. A heavy creak caused him to jump to his feet, spinning to watch the doorway as several council members and a tall, uniformed soldier entered and seated themselves at the table. "Well, Master Jerith." What seemed to be the elder at the head of the table spoke softly to the room. "What message does Talisov bring to Troglinar?"

[b]Name:[/b] Uriel (Fire of God) [b]Appearance:[/b]One of the wisest of the Symphony, Uriel holds great depth in his stormy grey eyes. His features are solmn, with a firm set jaw and strong cheekbones. His dark brow knitted in thought, he exudes wisdom and control. Long dark hair flows down upon his shoulders, silver threads woven throughout giving him an aged appearance even though he remains forever youthful. A jeweled band adorns his forehead, making him appear regal to most Middlings who would look upon him. Uriel wears a brilliant silver chain-mail jerkin with gilded gold trim. A long pleated white skirt covers flowing white trousers in the style of the Arabs, his feet are bare. His feathered wings, ivory white in colour, unfurl into a proud and intimidating wingspan, shining in the golden sunlight. [b]Personality:[/b] When the War came upon the heavens, Uriel was outraged. Discord had entered into the pure Symphony as the result of deliberate action, something which had never before happened. His injured Word resonated within him. This injury has never truly healed and Uriel bears a great sorrow within him because of it. However, as an angel his duty overtakes all personal frailties and as an angel he his compelled to be compasionate and protecting to all who are his wards. Favouring those of a scholarly nature Uriel holds knowledge and wisdom above all other virtues.

Jerith looked on warily as he watched the guards rush off after the lizardman, trying to slink meekly into the shadows. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he whistled nonchalantly and stepped off in the direction of his home. "Hey!" Jerith stopped mid stride and mid whistle. Turning to look slowly over his shoulder his eyes widened as he watched several moon guards running in his direction. He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. "Och, fer Pete's sake." Turning on his heel he raised his hands in an innocent gesture. "Now now fella's let's no be too hasty here eh?" Jerith stopped as the guards stared to speed towards him. "Ah guess no." Putting on a burst of spped Jerith turned and sprinted away from the encoming soldiers, a cloud of dust spitting up from the floor. Twisting throuh crowds of civilians Jerith made his way towards a narrow side alley, knocking over bins and baskets behind him in an attempt to stall his persuers. Looking over his shoulder briefly Jerith let loose a short laugh as he saw the soldiers hampered by his obstacles. His attention turned away from the situation before him jerith failed to notice the three guards barring his exit until he was, literally, right on top of them. Barreling into the guards Jerith was sent sprawling into the dirt only to be hauled to his feet roughly by two of the soldiers who held him tight between them. Breathig heavily jerith watched the third guard, the captian, approach him. "We've had word that there's a fellon running loose around here. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" The captian's voice was low, his face inches from Jerith's as he spoke. "Ah've no idea what ye're talkin' about lad." Jerith let loose a pained grunt as his words were answered with a hard fist to his gut. Followed swiftly by a second Jerith stumbled forward only to be held upright by the two guards behind him. The captain tutted softly and wagged a finger before Jerith's face before grasping his chin roughly and raising Jerith's gaze to his own. "Now, now you wouldn't be lying would you? Because I don't like liers." Jerith attempted to shake his head but was stopped by a savage fist to his jaw, crying out in pain. Spitting blood to the dusty floor he gazed up at the smirking captain, his breathing hard and rattled. Indicating to the two men restraining Jerith the captian grinned at the bleeding theif. "Search him." Jerith was grasped roughly by one guard while the second stood before him. He gritted his teeth hard as he was frisked and non too gently, most of his belongings scattered across the dirt. Resisting the urge to struggled Jerith watched as the guard stood, a confused look crossing his face as he examined the itme in his hand. It was the belt buckle that Jerith had stolen from the tall ranger about an hour ago. "Hey! Tha's mine!" Any other words of protest were stopped by his captor shaking him roughly. The second soldier stood conversing with the captain in hushed tones, both glancing worriedly from the buckle to Jerith. Walking over to him slowly the captian held the golden buckle nervously in his hand. "Release him." When the guard looked at him with confusion the captain hardened his tone. "I said release him, don't make me repeat myself again." Jerith was let go and caught himself just in time to stop himself from tumbling to the floor. Rubbing his arms Jerith watched the two men warily. The captian held the buckle forward, offering it back to him. " We sincerely appologise sir...we had no idea that you were of the Imperial Army." [i]Imperial Army?[/i] Jerith took the buckle and examined it, the IA standing out brilliantly upon the metal. Jerith's eyes widened as he remembered. "Aye..aye tha's right. Imperial Army, that's me." The captian bowed respectfully, indicating that his subordinates should do the same. "If you'll just come with us sir. The council is waiting." Jerith looked confused as he stashed the buckle in his pocket, wiping the thin trail of blood from his chin. "Umm...Council?" "Yes, the council is expecting you, as a representative of Talisov." The captain and his guards took off in front of him, expecting Jerith to follow. "Oh aye....right." Jerith followed meekly, desperatly trying to think of a plan to get him out of this.

Gah...Ah well, t'was worth a shot, and up against such great rpers I really didn't stand much of a chance. Congrats.

"Er, aye..aye..I know where t' buy salt." Stumbling to his feet Jerith regained his composure, eyeing the large reptilian being warily. Skirting around him he took in the lizardman's broad shoulders and intimidating claws. No theiving to be done here, he wasn't stupid no sir. Jerith thought that the best course of action would be to aid the lizard, lest he want to find his head rolling around in the dust. "Just follow me." Keeping a small distance between him and his follower Jerith glanced nervously over his shoulder as he watched the lizardman lumber after him. Jerith was curious as to what he would need the salt for anyway but dared not ask him. Crossing the street he neared the small store that sold everyday things to the local population. Slowing he indicated the store with a quick motion. "There's yer store." The lizard nodded his thanks and slowly entered the store. Jerith watched several people leave the store hurridely and looked about for a member of the guard. Normally he didn't asociate with those folk but it had to be done.

Shaking his head violently Callum staggered off, clutching his hands to his ears. His heart beat hard in his chest, the thundering of his blood coursing through his veins deafening him. Stumbling forward he fell do his knees upon the dust ground, panting heavily. Beads of sweat appeared upon his forehead as he stared at the ground, his yellow eyes losing focus. [i]Must concentrate. Can't change. Wont change.[/i] He gasped as if in pain as waves of sorrow washed over him from the tribe. he could smell the dead blood of the child mixing with the fear and grief that swept over the encampment. He dug his fingers into the ground, the tendons on his arms tight, his muscles buldging on his neck and shoulders. Rocking forward he murmured to himself a dire mantra. "Can't. Won't. Please. No...." Ripping at his shirt he sought out the cucifix he wore around his neck, clutching it desperately as he prayed. "[i]Spirits that minish heaven and earth, That minish...the land, Spirits that minish the land, Of giant strength... Of giant strength... and giant tread, Demons (like) raging bulls, great ghosts, Ghosts that break through all houses, Demons...that...that..have no shame, Seven are they! Knowing no care, They grind the land like corn; Knowing no mercy...."[/i] Callum let out another cry and arched his back up in a painful motion. The pain barraged his senses and he fell forward a feral growl ripping from his throat. His fangs elongated, raised ridges appearing upon his forehead. Bunching up his shoudlers he lunged upright with a howl and sped towards the source of the pain, his vision red with rage.

Jerith chuckled as he flipped the golden buckle up in the air and caught it again with a flick of his wrist. "Easiest pickins I e're recieved" Stuffing his hands in his pockets he strolled around the town center, whistling nonchalantly, if not slightly out of tune. hearing sounds of a scuffle he turned sharply just in time to see several guards come rushing to try and subdue the tall man he had plifered from earlier. It appears he was having some trouble gaining enterance, what a shame. Jerith guffawed loudly when he saw the man run and vault away, just seems there was no stopping some people. Ah well, in a place like this the poor get poorer and the thieves get richer as he always said.

Michael strolled down the stairs after unpacking his things. He had found the room very appealing and rather decadent he had to admit. Large, velvet drapes covered the french windows and a massive four poster bed dominated the room. The color scheme of the room seemed to be gold and red, giving the place a very royal feel, or possibly boudoir had hdn't decided. Other than unpacking he had spent a little time gazing at the marvelous paintings that hung upon his walls, some seemed rather old to his eyes and they only added to the whole scene of the room. Stepping down into the main social area of the mansion Michael patted the silver pistol held in his belt absently as he looked around. Noticing the girl sat at the window he ambled over to her. "Well hello there miss, I'm afraid I've forgotten your name...something I don't want to do again." He smiled at her and leant against the window sill.

Jerith crept lightly through the darkened forest, his footfalls shifting silently through the falen leaves and loam that littered the forest floor. Passing from tree to tree he silently made his way around the perimiter of the town that was situated at the forest's center. It was an interesting place, Troglinar, full of many interesting folk with many a heavey purse, chest or bag they needed relieving of. Of course he was just being a helpful citizen, aiding people with their baggage, wouldn't want any back injury or anything now would we? Smirking to himself to grasped an overhanging branch with a gloved hand and swung himself gracefulling into the tree's awaiting arms. Scrambling swiftly up the tree he leant forward in order to scan his position more carefully. Rule number one, know your target. His grey eyes flitted from person to person as they made their daily business, unaware or uncaring of the young man who swung carelessly from branch to branch. Careening around the sturdy trunk of an anciet oak he landed effortlessly upon the soft earth crouching in it's shadows as he murmered notes to himself. "Too big... ...too poor... ...too dangerous... ...too many..." Growling softly under his breath he sat back on his haunches. Where was all the wealthy business today? Resting his back against the large tree he watched the mass of people out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly a golden flash caught his notice. Turning his head he quickly caught sight of a tall man striding towards the town hall. jerith determined with ease that he wasn't from around here, his posture suggest one of noble heratige, a warrior by his weapons. Squinting to get a better look he noticed the ornament that had grabbed his attention, the golden buckle upon his belt, 'IA' Imperial Army. So this fella was from the Sun City, what business had he here? Shrugging slightly he dismissed it, best stick to the job at hand. "There's mah boy." Chuckling under his breath he shot forward, coming to a halt behind a building near the town hall. Adjusting his attire he smoothed his hair back, time for the direct approach. Starting forward he strolled towards the man with an air of innocence, just another forrest dweller going about his business. Rushing forward he rammed into the man 'accidentally' stumbling slightly as he caught his balance. "Oof, sorry there mate, ah did'nay see yeh." Dusting himself off he turned away, shoving his hand quickly into his pocket. Now normally he didn't resort to common pick pocketing but sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Crawford pressed a finger against the rim of his glasses, pushing the fram further up the bridge of his nose. Clasping his hands behind his back he trod the floor slowly with contemplating steps. "News, I'm afraid, is what we're rather short of." His voice was calm as always, prefering to remain expressionless. Schuldig shot him an irritated glance, his orange brows knitted in a frown. "Well you're supposed to be the Oracle, oracle something!" The feisty German barked in annoyance. Bradly chuckled and shook his head slightly, as if chiding a small child who asked a stupid question. "It doesn't work like th..." Crawford stopped mid sentence, images suddenly coming to him like a flicking picture book. [i]"Yes we are. And we need to leave before morning comes...I killed that doctor guy and they'll find him in the other doctors will find him in the morning."[/i] Raising a dark eyebrow he removed his glasses and proceeded to clean them on a handkerchief he produced from his jacket pocket. "It appears we have news after all."

[QUOTE][B][I]Originally posted by CB Shin[/i]The main subject is the influence of a Mr. Karl Marx. If you don't know him, than you aren't intelligent enough to be in this thread.[/QUOTE][/B] How very elitist of you. You can measure intelligence by that fact that someone knows who Karl Marx is or not can you? Amazing. I do know who Marx is actually and I agree with Bobba to some extent. His ideas were purely dreams that could have no real basis in society. Though I don't understand the anger that seems to eminate from his post. All men are allowed to dream and that's esentially what Karl Marx was doing, dreaming of a better world where prejudice, poverty and famine don't exist. He dreamt of equality in nations and a fine dream it was. Of course because of the nature of humanity this could never be but we all learn from our mistakes. True though, Philosophy it may be, Politics it could never be.