Shinmaru

[quote name='Baron Samedi][size=1']I've been here for over a year. I think I actually missed my 1 Year Anniversary o_O[/size][/quote] Happy One Year OB Anniversary, Baron :p I know I've talked about how I ended up here before, but I can't quite remember if I've talked about it [i]here[/i]...maybe on myOtaku or something? My memory is awful. Oh well. I might've talked about it in a couple comments lol. I came across this lovely message board by way of TheOtaku.com. I first ventured onto TheOtaku.com in March of last year, my junior year in high school. I had a computer class, and one of the requirements was to have a cover sheet for all of the assignments that we turned in. Being the dork that I was, I searched for various gaming/anime-related pictures to use for cheap covers. After a couple of months (May 20th, 2003, to be exact), I finally noticed the link to the message boards. I was kind of bored, so I decided to follow them and register with an extremely awful name, which we shall avoid mentioning for the sake of everyone's mental health. After I registered, I made a few posts here and there. I was a decent poster, not really spammy, but not really that good, either. It happens. I mostly stayed in the video game sections (specifically Nintendo), because I was, and still am, a big gamer. I posted in a lot of the topics and created many topics of my own, mostly because I love talking about games with people. It's fun stuff. So, uh, I guess that leads into me becoming a mod. It was either September or October of last year (can't remember which) that it happened. Since the Sony mod at the time hadn't been an active member in quite a while, I was given his job, only I was placed in Nintendo, because that was the most active of the main gaming forums and most of my experience was in there, anyway. As for memories...man, that chat sticks out in my mind. We kept it going for, what, a week? Jeez lol. It was called "TehSillyCircus" and it will live in infamy forever. For the record, it was originally Semjaza Azazel's idea to keep it going for as long as possible, and it got out of control. I place all blame on him, even though he had nothing to do with keeping it alive after the first couple of days. I should probably still be thanking Desbreko for killing off that chat :P As for threads, [b][url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=30684]Most Overrated Game[/url][/b] and [b][url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=25981]Most Underrated Game[/url][/b] are my favorites, because I love bitching about games that people say are good but, in reality, suck, and I like gushing over games that don't get their due. A thread in the same vein like [b][url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=38588]Crappiest Game Ever[/url][/b] also gets kudos from me. Simple concepts that lead to good conversation always make for a good time :)

I merged this thread with the existing DBZ Line-Up thread. Next time, check to make sure that your thread is in the right place and that you are making a thread that's dealing with something that's not already being discussed in another thread. Also, Burori, I know that you meant well, but all you have to do is report the thread and nothing else. Replying to a thread and pointing out what's wrong with it is pretty hypocritical, as that in itself creates more problems with the thread.

[QUOTE=Monkey_Orange][COLOR=DarkOrange][B]Hana-Kimi[/B] -- I think this would make for a great Shoujo comedy series *^^* [I]Mizuki Ashiya, a Japanese American, just transferred to a boarding school in Japan for one reason: To see her idol, Izumi Sano, jump in the high jump. There?s just a couple problems. 1) It?s an all boy?s school, 2) she?s pretending to be a boy, and 3) several people know her secret.[/I][/COLOR][/QUOTE] From what I've read of Hana-Kimi (which isn't that much, admittedly), I think it would definitely translate well to anime. Everything I've read of the series shows some decent potential, and was pretty enjoyable to me. [quote name='Dagger IX1][b]Banana Fish[/b'] would make a truly amazing anime. It's simply the best-written manga I've ever read--if the show's scriptwriters could retain even half of the original dialogue, it would already be well on its way to becoming a classic. With its brutal (but not sickening) violence, grim realism and stark character designs, Banana Fish is pretty much unique among shoujo series. A television series based on the manga could appeal to male and female viewers alike.[/quote] Like Hana-Kimi, I haven't read much of Banana Fish, but what I [i]have[/i] read is simply excellent and very intruiging and I wholeheartedly agree with Dagger about the series being well-written. As Dagger said, the character design is unique, but it's not offsetting in the least, and the dialogue flows very well and all of it seems natural. I agree that it would make an excellent anime series.

A couple things...first, I'm going to have to ask you to try to improve your grammar a bit. You don't have to write perfect sentences by any means, but not using shorthand such as 'b4' or 'u' would be nice. It makes your posts easier to read. Secondly, while you [i]did[/i] bring up a point of conversation and you answered your own question, there's still not much reasoning behind your post. Why do you prefer those characters in Guilty Gear X2? Do you like how they look compared to other characters or are they simply easier for you to fight with? You know, stuff like that. I'm just going to go ahead and close this thread.

Okay, I think that I need to step in and remind people that when revealing any part of a game's plot, no matter how many people you think know about that plot point, always put spoiler tags around it. There's an explanation of how to use the spoiler tags edited into the first post of this thread. Use them and use them well, or else you shall incur the wrath of many people who did not want the plot of a game to be spoiled.

I think my most tragic video game character death is when I died in Super Mario Bros. 3 when I was fighting Bowser. That's the only time in my life that I've gotten to the end of the game and Bowser killed my poor Mario. Many, many tears were shed that day.

Ah, it's been a while, hasn't it? The writing bug has been extremely fickle as of late, and due to the way I had originally set up the story, I wasn't really sure how to approach this chapter. However, a few TV shows, books and a thinking session later, I now think I have this story figured out, so hopefully there won't be any more big gaps between chapters. But I won't make a 100% promise on that, heh. [b][u][center]Chapter Thirteen: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington[/b][/u][/center] The rain woke Jacob up. The droplets of water pattered against the thin panes of glass shielding Jacob?s room from the outside forces of Mother Nature. Jacob looked outside, saw the assemblage of gray clouds marring the sky, and figured that it was still painfully early in the morning. With a dull ache in his head, Jacob looked over at the clock on the far wall with his puffy, stinging eyes. It was 8:30 AM and Jacob was over two hours late for work. Jacob rolled over on his side, his head sinking deeper into his pillow, and he tried to fall back asleep, without success. Jacob decided to go to the diner. He got up, changed into his work clothes and a sweater to protect himself against the rain. Jacob took a moment to look at himself in the mirror before he headed out of his room. Light stubble had grown on Jacob?s face during the night and his eyes were streaked with red. He could scarcely keep his eyes open long enough to notice that particular detail, and his stomach was growling fiercely reminding him of his own malnourishment. Jacob had declined to eat the night before and was now beginning to regret it. Jacob?s hand floated towards his doorknob and he grasped it tightly, much tighter than he had first intended. He tried to force himself to turn the knob and pull open the door but could not bring himself to perform this banal task. Jacob realized suddenly that his hand was shaking uncontrollably, still clutching the doorknob tightly. Jacob blinked and felt the sting of salty tears cutting against his eyes and inflamed skin; he had been crying without realizing it. Jacob walked over to his bathroom and turned on the water in the sink. He cupped his hands under the faucet, gathered some water and splashed it against his face. The water refreshed Jacob slightly and he took a towel to his face and rubbed some of the dripping water away. His eyes were still stinging, but far less now, and he was no longer crying. He threw the towel onto the floor and left the bathroom, forgetting to close the door and leaving it hanging open. Jacob walked out of his room and closed the door softly behind him. He looked over at the third old man?s room, but there was no stirring from within his room. Jacob went slowly downstairs and was just about out of energy by the time that he reached the bottom. Jacob?s walk to the front door was akin to the devolution of man; with each step that he took, Jacob slumped closer and closer to the floor. After a few steps, his feet were now merely sliding across the floor and his knuckles were dragging. With only one step left to go, Jacob hit the floor and fell unconscious. When he woke up, Jacob was on the couch with a wet rag on his head. Jacob reached up to his forehead to remove the dampened rag, but a hand grabbed his wrist and gently moved Jacob?s hand away from his forehead. Jacob looked up and saw the old manager smiling down morosely at him. ?I thought I told you to get some sleep last night?? the old manager asked gently. ?I did,? Jacob replied. ?I got plenty of sleep last night.? ?Then why do you look so fucking terrible?? the old manager asked. ?I got plenty of sleep,? Jacob said. ?But none of it was good sleep.? The old manager nodded soberly. ?I see,? he said. ?Well, I think we should keep you in today.? ?No,? Jacob said. ?That won?t be necessary.? ?Why not?? the old manager asked with a hint of amusement. ?I might not look it,? Jacob said. ?But I?m feeling better. I need to get down to the diner right away?I think there might be something waiting for me out there.? ?It?s your life,? the old manager said with a slight shrug. ?I can?t tell you how to live it, I guess.? The old manager took the moist rag off of Jacob?s head and helped Jacob get up off of the couch. Jacob limped over to the front door and placed his hand upon the doorknob. He opened the door. It was still raining hard outside. ?Do you want an umbrella?? the old manager asked. ?No thanks,? Jacob said. ?I like the rain.? ?Your call,? the old manager said, turning his back to Jacob and walking into the kitchen. Jacob went outside and closed the door softly. The rain doused every inch of Jacob almost immediately. Dewy droplets of water formed in every crevice of his wool sweater and there were dark, wet patches of brown all over his beige pants. Jacob?s hands were cold and numb, so he thrusted them into his pockets, desperate for some warmth. His pockets provided temporal warmth, which was enough for Jacob. By the time he reached the diner, his hair was wet and stringy, matted harshly against his head. Clumps of his hair stuck out in odd directions, which were constantly changed by the combination of the force of the rain and the fresh wind which was blowing around. Jacob halted in front of the door of the diner. Standing across from him was Julia. Like Jacob, she looked as if she had experienced a rough night; her eyes were bloodshot, she was slumped forward slightly and she had a tired look about her face. Julia was carrying an umbrella, but as soon as she spotted Jacob, she closed it and tossed it to the floor, not once averting her steady gaze at Jacob. Fresh rain poured onto her head, sending loose strands of hair onto her face. She walked slowly up to Jacob, still gazing directly at him. After a few seconds, she stood right in front of him. ?You heard the news, too?? Jacob asked. ?Yes,? Julia said. ?It was terrible. I couldn?t sleep after hearing it.? ?Neither could I,? Jacob said. Julia sighed heavily. She looked as if she were trying desperately to cry, but could not muster up the strength to do so. Instead, Jacob embraced her, and she did not make any attempt at all to resist this. Julia buried her head against Jacob?s chest and shuddered slightly. ?Do you think that we?re safe, Jacob?? Julia asked. ?I don?t know,? Jacob admitted. ?There are a lot of things that I?m not sure about right now.? Julia hugged Jacob closer in response and the rain continued to pour around them. A black car drove on the road beside them, and a cigarette flew out one of the car?s open windows and landed near Jacob?s feet. Mr. Smith laughed from inside of the car and continued to drive. ?Very touching,? Mr. Smith said to himself. ?Very touching, indeed. Maybe there?s hope for him after all.? The car weaved in and out of traffic, skillfully moving around the street without even coming close to hitting another of the cars traveling alongside it. After a few minutes, Mr. Smith reached his destination: The Conspiración Imperialista Building, the tallest building in the city. He took the opportunity to park right in front of the building, in one of the tow-away zones. Another car would be fairly easy to come by. Mr. Smith thrust his umbrella out of the car door and opened it, shielding himself from the rain. He then climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him. He ambled through the rain, stepping over a slightly flooded storm drain and walked through the front door of the building and into the main hall. There was a desk at the end of the long hall. Bright white lights were arranged in tight rows on the roof. Mr. Smith closed his umbrella, wrapped it shut and shook the loose water off of it. He then took this opportunity to make sure that his appearance was just right. His pants were slightly wet due to the rain, but still appeared neatly pressed and were the same light brown color they were when he bought them. His suit coat managed to make it through the rain without getting wet and likewise was the same light brown color it had been when he bought it. Mr. Smith?s white dress shirt and red tie were nice and presentable and his black dress shoes, though slightly damp, remained nice and shiny. Mr. Smith felt his hair ? it was slicked back and still in place, just like he had wanted it to be. Mr. Smith adjusted his sunglasses and decided that everything was as good as it would be likely to get. After everything checked out, Mr. Smith walked up to the front desk and waited politely until the clerk gave him his attention. ?Can I help you?? the desk clerk asked. ?Yes,? Mr. Smith said, running through the information he had gotten from a contact one more time. ?I?m the new Assistant Manager of the South Wing. I was asked to come down today to meet with my new superiors.? ?I see,? the desk clerk said. ?Well, just give me some identification, I?ll run it through the machines and then I can give you clearance to the back room.? ?Fine,? Mr. Smith said, rummaging through his coat pocket. He pulled out a small identification card and handed it to the desk clerk. ?Thank you very much,? the desk clerk said. ?You may take a seat on the bench over there, if you please. I?ll let you know when I am finished.? Mr. Smith nodded and walked towards the bench. He sat down on it, placing his right leg upon his left knee and leaning back slightly. He sighed contentedly. Everything was going according to plan. Mr. Smith closed his eyes and ran back through his meeting with his contact. The meeting had taken place in a small downtown restaurant. The place had been dark, for the most part, with only a few lamps scattered around the room. The lamps were enclosed in shades made of red-tinted glass, giving the light shining through a dark red color. Mr. Smith leaned back against the cushioned bench, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table, his head turned disinterestedly away from the person he was meeting with. The person across from him, whose face was covered in darkness, gave a slight cough, and then folded their hands upon the table. Mr. Smith gave a short chuckle and turned his attention to the person sitting across from him. ?You do know what you are getting into, do you not?? Mr. Smith asked. ?Y-yes,? the person said, stammering slightly. ?Yes, I do.? ?And you understand,? Mr. Smith continued. ?That if caught, I will do absolutely nothing at all to help you out of any delicate situations?? ?Yes,? the person said. ?I understand completely.? ?Good,? Mr. Smith smiled. ?The potential benefits outweigh the risks, eh?? The person nodded. ?I thought so. They always do.? The person picked a bag up off of the floor and set it upon the table. Mr. Smith eyed it lazily as the person slid it across the table to him. Mr. Smith opened the bag and took a look inside. ?The Assistant Manger of the South Wing resigned recently,? the informant said. ?And they?ve already hired a replacement.? ?Yes, yes,? Mr. Smith said. ?I?ve already taken care of [i]that[/i] little detail.? The person sitting across from him smiled weakly and continued on. ?These are the items that I was able to recover,? the informant said. ?Mostly unimportant and trivial things, with the exception of his I.D. Card and his resume. We should be able to alter both of these items with relative ease so as to make them into [i]your[/i] identification and [i]your[/i] resume.? ?Excellent,? Mr. Smith said. ?And you?re quite certain that he has a meeting the day I plan to go in?? ?Yes,? the informant said. ?I?ve checked it myself, down the minute and second that he?s expected to be there. Or, rather, that [i]you?re[/i] expected to be there.? ?Indeed,? Mr. Smith said, a grin lighting up his face. ?I thank you for your cooperation, and you can expect to be?compensated as soon as possible.? Mr. Smith reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes. ?Do you smoke?? ?Yes, sir,? the informant said, taking a cigarette from Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith then took out a lighter and lit up the informant?s cigarette. He then placed the pack of cigarettes down on the table and started to leave. ?Don?t you smoke?? the informant asked. ?No,? Mr. Smith said. ?It?s bad for your health.? The informant stopped smoking for a bit and looked down at the pack of cigarettes with wide, frightened eyes. ?Not to worry,? Mr. Smith said, tittering. ?I?m speaking in general terms.? Mr. Smith left the restaurant. The informant took the cigarette out of their mouth and ground it into the ashtray. ?I know that it?s all worth it,? the informant said, to nobody in particular. ?But he?s a really creepy guy.? ?Mr. Randall!? a voice said. Mr. Smith snapped out of his pseudo-trance and walked over to the front desk. The desk clerk handed him his I.D. Card and pressed a button, opening the way to the rest of the building. ?Your identification checks out Mr. Randall. I hope the wait wasn?t too long.? ?The wait wasn?t bad at all,? Mr. Smith said. ?I hardly noticed it.? Mr. Smith walked to the back area, the heels of his dress shoes clicking softly on the floor. As soon as Mr. Smith walked through the door, the desk clerk pushed a button and the door closed. Mr. Smith emerged on the other side. His eyes swept the room he was in. There were several halls in this area, with many doors lining the walls along the halls. He knew where he would eventually have to be, but Mr. Smith decided to take this opportunity to take a little stroll around the building. He looked down at his watch to see what time it was; it would be about an hour or so before he would have to be at the meeting. ?This is bringing back some nice memories,? Mr. Smith said to himself. ?I think that I can afford a nice trip down Memory Lane.? He strode forward and turned left at the first hallway. Each of the doors in the hallways had special locks on them which required a swipe of the identification card to open. Mr. Smith swiped his I.D. Card through a lock on a door and peered inside. There was nobody in the room. It was a small laboratory with an abandoned experiment in the middle of the room. Near the back of the room was a large glass tube, half filled with a blue liquid. Mr. Smith brought his head back outside and closed the door. ?That definitely brings back some memories.? He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in one of those glass tubes, only this tube was filled to the brim with blue liquid. When Mr. Smith opened his eyes, the liquid stung them agonizingly, pressing him to force his eyes shut once more. When he opened them again, he was laying upon an operating table, while several doctors were conversing around him. His chest moved up and down slowly, his lungs gaining strength with each passing second. One of the doctors took a glance over at Mr. Smith?s naked body and noticed him breathing. ?Look, everyone!? the doctor said. ?He?s awakened!? The doctors immediately halted their conversation and focused all of their attention on Mr. Smith, who did not seem to notice any of them at all. In a few moments, Mr. Smith was propped up on a chair, wrapped in a towel and drinking a warm drink. He had flat, plastic sensors attached all over his body, each connected to a machine near the back of the room, which was taking readings from Mr. Smith?s body. ?How are you feeling?? one of the doctors asked Mr. Smith. He did not answer back, and continued to simply drink his drink. ?What are the readings thus far?? the doctor asked. ?His mental reading is at 100%,? one of the assistants said. ?He seems to be feeling no mental duress at the moment. And his physical reading is at 80%!? ?Remarkable,? one of the doctors breathed. ?His recovery capabilities are exceptional!? ?Yes,? another doctor said, smiling proudly. ?We?re far evolved from the failures of the past.? ?This is a great day for our field, Dr. Milo,? one of the assistants said. ?Indeed it is,? Dr. Milo replied. ?Today begins the reformative years, where we cast away our previous work and move forward to our brighter tomorrow. These will be the years where we cast our names in stone.? The doctors let out a solid group cheer, as Mr. Smith continued to stare blankly ahead, still sipping his cup of warm water. Mr. Smith closed his eyes as he sipped the last of his drink. When he opened them again, he was back in the lighted hallway, fully clothed in present times. Mr. Smith looked down at his watch. Fifteen minutes had passed. He decided to start on the path towards the meeting and maybe stop in a room somewhere near where he had to be. He continued walking down the hall, meeting many forks in the long white road and taking a myriad of seemingly arbitrary turns down these forks, even though he knew that he was going in the exact right direction. Mr. Smith passed by many doors, but there was one that caught his attention. One that he thought he recognized. He took a look at his watch ? there was about a half hour until he needed to be in the meeting place. He decided to take a slight risk so that his curiosity would be at least slightly quelled. Mr. Smith again took out his I.D. Card and swiped it through the lock. The door opened and Mr. Smith went inside the room. The door closed behind him and the room was plunged into total darkness. Mr. Smith?s arm groped the wall near the door for a few seconds before his hand found the light switch. He flipped the switch up, spreading a dim light throughout the room. Flanking the sides of the room were several shelves lined with video tapes. In the back of the room was a small television set with a built in VCR. All of the video tapes were labeled with code names. There was one tape, however, that caught Mr. Smith?s attention. It was labeled ?The Seven Year Project?. ?Hello, what have we here?? Mr. Smith said to himself. ?This might provide some entertainment. I think I?ll see what they?ve cooked up on here.? Mr. Smith grabbed the tape and took it out from its box. He handled it carefully and put it gently into the VCR. The television turned on and the tape started up. After a few seconds of static, Mr. Smith?s image appeared on the screen. A narrator then began to speak. ?Twenty-three years after the Seven Year War, and the subsequent failure of Project Titan, a second project was begun. The specifications for this experiment were much the same as the earlier experiment, except that this new project included a few new tweaks. For two years, our top scientists experimented on several volunteers, finally coming across one that fit the needs of the project. Twenty-five years after the end of the Seven Year War, the experiments that had failed years before had now been declared a rousing success. However, the fruits of the labor used on the project could not be used immediately. Several years of training and more experimentation were needed before the subject, dubbed Smith, would be of any real use for the government. These years, along with the earlier years of experimentation, were labeled the Seven Year Project. Unfortunately, this project also turned out to be a failure. The test subject?s psyche eventually deteriorated as much as, if not more, than his predecessor, and this project was also deemed a failure. The test subject was killed and his body saved for further examination, in the hopes that the government would be able to find a way to achieve the true results that they were looking for.? There was a bit more on the tape, but Mr. Smith pressed the stop button. He ejected the tape, placed it back into its box and onto the shelf, chuckling to himself all the while. ?What a piece of rubbish,? Mr. Smith said. ?Nothing but a low-level tape.? Mr. Smith then turned his head around and looked over at the door. He had heard sounds coming from outside. Two men were walking towards the door. One of the men took out his keycard, swiped it through the lock and opened the door. The room was pitch black. The man stepped into the room and looked around for a few seconds. Nothing was out of place or out of the ordinary in the room. He shrugged his shoulders and left the room. ?There?s nobody in there,? the man said. ?I guess they were just hearing things.? The two men left after a few seconds. Mr. Smith emerged from a darkened corner near the shelves and stepped out of the room. He again checked his watch. There was ten minutes left until the meeting started, just enough time for him to make it. He walked through the halls and snaked around corners until he made it to the office. He knocked lightly on the door and a light female voice asked him to enter. A buzzer sounded, the door opened and Mr. Smith walked inside of the room. ?Mr. Stevens will be with you shortly,? the secretary said. ?Please have a seat.? ?I will, thank you,? Mr. Smith said, obligingly sitting down on the sofa on the other side of the room. After a few moments the door in back of the secretary opened and Mr. Stevens beckoned Mr. Smith towards his office. He stepped inside and Mr. Stevens motioned towards a familiar figure already sitting in a chair in front of Mr. Stevens? desk. ?Hello, Randall,? Mr. Stevens said. ?Have you met Dr. Milo?? Mr. Smith smiled down at him. ?No, we haven?t met,? Mr. Smith said. ?But I?ve heard many great things about him.? ?Are you sure we haven?t met?? Dr. Milo asked. ?You look very familiar.? ?I get that a lot,? Mr. Smith said flatly, shaking Dr. Milo?s hand. Mr. Smith sat down in the other chair in front of Mr. Stevens desk. ?How have you enjoyed your time here, so far, Randall?? Mr. Stevens asked. ?It?s been an enlightening experience,? Mr. Smith replied. ?I?m sure that you?ve heard quite a bit about the?ah?delicate situation right now?? Mr. Stevens asked. ?I?ve heard a bit,? Mr. Smith said. ?A bit is all you need to know,? Dr. Milo said. ?Even if you know only a bit, you still know more than most people do.? ?All you need to know is that we?re hunting some very dangerous men right now,? Mr. Stevens said. ?If both go very long without being captured, it will be very bad for us.? ?Understood,? Mr. Smith said, suppressing the urge to laugh. ?Your post is very integral to us, Randall,? Mr. Stevens said. ?We need all four wings to work as a cohesive unit to ensure that everything around here flows smoothly.? ?Even though it doesn?t,? Dr. Milo said bluntly. Mr. Stevens glared at him, before looking up at the clock above the door of his office. ?I?m sorry, I have to cut this meeting a bit short,? Mr. Stevens said. ?I have a meeting that I need to attend right now.? Mr. Stevens shook both Mr. Smith and Dr. Milo?s hands, then he left the room. There was an awkward silence between Mr. Smith and Dr. Milo for a few moments. Dr. Milo then chose to break the silence. ?Don?t think I don?t know who you are, Smith,? Dr. Milo said. ?You?re a real arrogant guy, strolling in here like this. What makes you think that I won?t get you right here and right now?? ?Because you value your own skin,? Mr. Smith replied, bored. ?That?s why. If you call for security, I?ll kill you. It?s that simple. Your boys might end up capturing me, but you?ll be dead. I don?t think that?s a fair trade-off, do you?? Dr. Milo stayed silent for a few seconds, then spoke up. ?Get out of here,? Dr. Milo said. ?I?ll give you a head start, but you had better believe me when I say that I?ll have more people on your ass than you can count.? ?I believe you,? Mr. Smith said. ?It?s been like that for, what, seven, eight years now? I?m used to it.? Mr. Smith then left the room, leaving a frustrated Dr. Milo in his wake. That did not excuse Mr. Smith from also being frustrated, as he had not expected Dr. Milo to be there, at all. Dr. Milo?s appearance threw a major kink into Mr. Smith?s plans, and his informant was going to hear about it. Personally.

Thanks for the feedback, thus far ^_^ I've had Chapter One written for a long time; it took me ages to finish Chapter Two. I think I was just dreading all the action that would go on in this chapter, heh. I don't consider myself very adept at writing engaging action. I'd like it if someone would tell me whether or not the action parts of the chapter read well lol. Anyway, enough of that, here is Chapter Two. Note that it'll probably take me a few days to write out Chapter Three, because I'm going to be getting back into my other story soon, too. We'll see how everything goes. [b][u][center]Intermission One[/b][/u][/center] ?Okay, so you went with your girlfriend to the city,? the second agent said. ?So what?? I blushed slightly. ?She?s not really my girlfriend,? I said. ?It doesn?t matter what she is,? the first agent said. ?And keep your patience. He?ll tell the story the way that he wants to tell it.? I looked over at the first agent gratefully, and then realized that he was not on my side. He just wanted to keep me happy so I would tell my story with no problems. I wasn?t very happy about this, but I really had no choice in the matter; these two men had all the power and I had none. So, I continued my story. [b][u][center]Part Two: Back Home with a Bang[/b][/u][/center] I drove out into the street and entered the flow of traffic. The traffic around the school was slightly busy, but it was free flowing, for the most part. ?Where should we go first?? I asked Maria. ?We should go to the mall,? Maria replied, after a few seconds of thought. ?There will probably be a lot of people there, so we can hide out, and blend in. There?s also lots of stuff to do there.? She smiled at me. ?That?s a good idea,? I said, changing lanes so that I could make the turn in the direction of the mall. I pulled into the parking lot, and was pleasantly surprised to find that, while there were many people at the mall at the moment, there were still a few parking spots available. I drove to one that was located near the front of the mall and parked my car. Maria and I got out of the car, and with a couple of glances around the area to ensure that nobody was following us, we walked into the mall. The mall was buzzing with activity. The escalators connecting the first and second floors carried constant droves of people, and groups of people criss-crossed the middle of the first floor, walking from one store to the next. Maria pointed out a book store and pulled me in its direction. We stepped inside and we were met with a blast of fresh, cool air. A few customers were strolling nonchalantly around the store, and others were sitting in the chairs scattered throughout the area. A teenager was manning the cash register, not really paying much attention to anything else that was happening at the moment. ?Come on,? Maria said, tugging me forward more. ?What exactly are we doing here?? I asked. ?We needed a place to hide out,? Maria said. ?And there are a couple of books that I need to buy for school, anyway.? I shrugged my shoulders slightly and followed her into the fiction section of the book store. I looked through some of the books hoping to find something that might have struck my fancy, but I didn?t find anything very interesting among the books that I was looking at. I stepped out from the bookshelf and took a glance at everyone in the store. Just about everyone had left. Only the teenager at the front was still there. Maria emerged from behind a bookshelf with two novels in hand ? H.G. Wells? [u]War of the Worlds[/u] and J.D. Salinger?s [u]The Catcher in the Rye[/u]. She seemed very pleased to find these novels in the store and she walked eagerly up to the front desk to pay for them. The teen at the front brushed her long, fuchsia hair apathetically from her face and rang up the novels that Maria wished to buy. ?That?ll be $17.26,? the teenager yawned. ?Would you like a bag with that, or are you capable of carrying them on your own?? ?I?d like a bag, please,? Maria said, ignoring the teen?s overt sarcasm. ?It?s a bit more convenient.? The teen rolled her eyes, reached under the counter and produced a small plastic bag. She slid the novels into the bag and handed it to Maria, who handed her a $20 bill in exchange. The teen rang up the change, handed it to Maria and went back to being extremely bored. I went up to the front door, held it open for Maria and stepped through after her. We walked side by side for a few moments until she stopped at a small table near the food court. She pulled out a chair, sat down and I followed suit. Maria put her bag onto the ground and fanned herself a bit. ?Today?s been kind of strange, hasn?t it?? Maria asked. ?You?re telling me,? I replied. ?What do you think is up with them?? ?I?m not exactly sure,? Maria said, contemplating this. ?What did that man say to you?? ?Nothing much, really,? I told her. ?He kept asking if I had noticed anything out of the ordinary happening at the school?oh, and he mentioned that he worked with the government.? Maria looked up at me, her expression one of slight surprise. ?What do you suppose they want?? I asked. ?I don?t know,? Maria said. ?But I?m sure that it?s nothing good. Do you?do you suppose it has anything to do with that large building on Lookout Hill?? ?That building?s been there for years,? I replied. ?Even before we were born. If that were the case, why would they be doing something now?? ?Maybe something?s gone wrong,? Maria said. ?Something out of their control.? ?I don?t know,? I replied. ?It?s a guess, but it sounds more than a bit like a conspiracy theory to me.? ?Maybe,? Maria said, her tone of voice not exactly one of agreeance. I was about to speak up again, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. A few moments of awkward silence passed, and I opened my mouth to speak up. However, Maria cut me off before I could say anything. ?Why don?t you like school?? Maria asked. I tilted my head to the side and considered this question for a moment. It had come completely out of left field and stumped me. ?What makes you think I don?t like school?? I asked in reply. ?You always seem bored,? Maria told me lightly. ?You used to care about learning a lot, and now you don?t. Why is that?? ?I do care about learning!? I said indignantly. ?It?s just that?? I let myself trail off, because I honestly didn?t know how to finish that. It was true that I had been extremely apathetic towards school; my apathy grew as I became older. I didn?t even know [i]why[/i] this had happened, all I knew was that the apathy was there. I didn?t particularly like school, but I didn?t hate it, either. It was just there. Maria did not seem to mind my lack of a real answer, and I was starting to grow slightly annoyed at her. However, I didn?t have time to dwell on this, since her next question took me even more by surprise. ?Why do you want us to be a couple?? Maria asked. I was totally dumbfounded by this question, so dumbfounded that I almost laughed in response. Somehow, I managed to avoid that extremely idiotic response and instead told her the first thing that popped into my mind. ?Well?that?s what people who like each other [i]do[/i],? I said. ?They become couples.? Somehow, this seemed less idiotic in my mind. ?But why?? Maria asked politely. ?I don?t really know how I can explain that,? I replied. ?Don?t [i]you[/i] know why?? ?No,? Maria said. ?I honestly don?t. Can?t you like someone without having to show off and declare to the world that you like someone? It seems a bit?weird, to me.? ?Why would it seem weird?? I asked incredulously. ?It seems to me,? Maria said. ?That the only reason that people become ?official? couples is because everyone else does it. Look at us; we like each other a lot, we do everything real couples do and we aren?t really an ?official? couple. I think that it just places unnecessary stress on people.? ?Why is that?? I asked. ?Because people aren?t going along with what they want,? Maria replied. ?They?re going along with what other people want, only they?re turning it into what they [i]think[/i] they want.? ?What do you want?? I asked her. ?I just want to be friends,? Maria said, smiling. ?That?s enough for me, especially with a friend like you.? She put her hand on mine, and that made the irritated feeling that I was going through at the moment go away. My thoughts were jumping around everywhere at once. I had already been thinking a bit about what had happened at school, and now I was thinking about this strange question and answer session that Maria just put me through. What was the purpose of all that, anyway? I didn?t have much time to ponder that, though, as Maria stood up out of her seat in the middle of one of my thoughts. ?I think we should move to a different spot,? Maria suggested. I swiveled my head around, trying to see what had made Maria so jumpy just now. Then, I spotted them, two men staring suspiciously at us. One was over by the hot dog stand. He was about my height, with shaggy blond hair and sunglasses. He was wearing a tank top along with blue beach shorts and sandals. I looked in the opposite direction and spotted another person in the sporting goods store. He was wearing a golf shirt, slacks and dress shoes. He also had on the same pair of glasses as the beach man. ?Yeah, I think that we should get going, too,? I said. We averted our gazes from the two men and tried to walk over to the mall?s exit. However, out of the corners of our eyes, we saw the two men walking subtly towards the exit in order to cut us off. We quickly abandoned any hope of making it safely to the exit for the time being, and made our way over to the escalator. We got on and it took us slowly up to the second floor. The two men hesitated a bit in following us; apparently, they were still under the delusion that they had not yet roused our suspicions. As soon as we reached the second floor, we ducked down low and quickly made our way into a nearby candy store. We barely made it inside before the two men reached the second floor. However, our victory was short lived. As we slowly crept backwards further into the store, we bumped into someone. This person was wearing a black dress suit and tie, shiny black dress shoes and he had a black gun pointed directly at my head. ?Hello, children,? he said, his voice a low whisper. ?Why don?t you come with me?? I was too paralyzed with fear to do anything, but Maria slowly grabbed the closest object, a solid chocolate rabbit, and threw it at the man?s face. The rabbit hit him square in the nose, and his arm flailed skyward. His finger squeezed the trigger of his gun, but since his arm was now in the air, his bullet sailed harmlessly into the roof, spreading debris across the floor. Maria grabbed my arm and pulled me along. We ran outside and immediately spotted a group of agents, similar in look to the one whom had just tried to kill me, chasing us from our right side. The two men who were following us earlier emerged on our left side, so we broke into a run straight ahead and down the escalator. Our initial plan was to run straight for the exit, but again, our plan was thwarted, this time, in a great surprise, by another group of agents who were now guarding the exit. Maria stopped, turned on her heels, and pulled me along into a run. We ran past the hot dog cart and into the middle of the mall, where a long strip of water was surrounded by large tiles of marble. A few of the agents let off some shots from their pistols, which hit the marble surrounding the water. Chunks and bits of marble flew out from the sides of the marble wall as we ran on top of it, barely avoiding the bullets fired from behind us. We got close to the large department store, so we jumped off and ran in there, rushing past the customers gathered near the front. They stared at us like we were crazy, but we paid no attention to that. Soon afterwards, several agents ducked in the store after us and a feeling of insanity spread through the store like wildfire. Every patron in the store flew into a panic and ran for their lives. Luckily for us, there were plenty of hiding spots in the large store. We went through the clothing section, ducking and twisting our way through the racks of clothing. Shots fired intermittently above us, but none came close to actually hitting us. The toy section also provided ample shelter from the rain of bullets, with its long lines of shelves carrying the latest in popular children?s toys. By now, the store was totally evacuated and the police would surely be on their way to the mall, which meant that we would have to get out of there as soon as possible. ?I?ve got an idea,? Maria whispered. ?What is it?? I asked. She whispered in my ear for a few seconds. My first thought was that her plan was completely insane, but I had nothing better to offer, myself, so I chose to go along with her. There was a movable rack of clothing near our hiding place; Maria snuck behind it and I followed suit. We ran along with it for a few feet, our hands clutching the metal tubing of the rack, and we let it fly forward by letting it go. The agents shot at it, causing it to crash into one of the glass cases, but it was enough of a distraction to give us a decent head start out of the store. We ran as fast as our legs could carry us, dodging bullet after bullet, nearly tripping over ourselves a million times over. Knowing that this would be our only opportunity to escape, Maria and I ran faster than we had ever run in our lives. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, random debris flew in our faces and everything seemed to rush at us at a one thousand miles a second. I had a million thoughts in my mind, and yet I had none at all. I was thinking about everything at once, but I wasn?t really thinking at all. We ran past the hot dog stand, leaping over it and kicking back at it after we landed upon the ground. The stand, which rammed head on into the group of men running after us, proved to be a good distraction enabling us enough time to open the door and get out of the mall. We ran over to the car, and jumped inside. We scarcely had time to buckle ourselves in, when the glass doors of the mall exploded open with gunfire and the agents came pouring out. I jammed my car key into the ignition, praying that my car would start right away, while agent after agent emerged from the mall in a sea of black suits. The car started up, I let out a cry of joy and pulled out as fast as I could. I turned out of the parking space, the tires of my car squealing and smoking, and drove madly out of the mall?s parking lot and onto the main street. ?Okay, I need to calm myself down,? I muttered to myself, my heart pounding harshly in my chest. ?Just calm down?calm down?calm down?? ?We have a few following us right now,? Maria pointed out. I took a quick peek into the rearview mirror. There were about four or five cars tailing us at the moment, and it looked like that was just the beginning of our troubles. ?This is just fantastic,? I growled. ?How are we going to get out of this?? ?We?ll just have to find away to get away from them,? Maria said reassuringly, patting my shoulder. ?Somehow.? ?But where will we go?? I asked. ?I don?t know where we?ll go right now,? Maria said. ?But we could always go to your house afterwards.? ?Won?t they be expecting that?? I asked her. ?You live out of the way,? she noted. ?Plus, you know the best route there, and they do not. I think that is the best bet for evading them.? I nodded in reply, filled with new resolve. We were going to escape from these creeps no matter what. I slammed my foot down upon the pedal and my car raced forward, with a slight groan coming from the engine. Mind you, my car is not exactly a Ferrari, but I?ve kept it in decent condition? ?What are these tangents you keep going on?? the second man snapped, slamming his fist on the table. ?Who cares about all this? Who cares about your girlfriend asking you questions, who cares about your stupid car?!? ?I care about them,? I replied. ?Which is why I?ll continue to talk about them, so I?d like it if you would stop interrupting me.? The second man glared at me, while the first man rolled his eyes. ?If you want to talk about that crap, then go ahead,? the first man said. ?Just don?t waste too much time on the petty details.? ?They?re not petty details,? I said. ?But, fine, I won?t ?waste too much time? on them, if you wish.? Luckily, the traffic was still sparse at the moment, giving me enough room to swerve from lane to lane without too much fear of getting into an accident. That?s not to say that I wasn?t scared out of my wits, because I was. Every time I turned, I did so with a nervous jerk and wide, frightened eyes. My vision darted from one place to another, from the road ahead of me, to my mirrors and to Maria, who was trying to stay as calm as possible despite our dire situation. She was sitting with her hands folded in her lap, breathing softly and steadily with a look of intense calm on her face. Her grace under fire helped me calm myself down a bit as I continued to maneuver between the cars on the road. I turned the steering wheel hard and jerked my car over to the far right lane in order to make a turn. As I drifted through the turn, my tire clipped the curb slightly, throwing us off balance a bit. I counter-steered harshly in order to correct this and barely got back control of the car. I looked straight ahead and knew that I had made the wrong decision. ?Hold on tight, Maria,? I warned. She nodded and grabbed hold of the door handle tightly. I turned the wheel sharply and accelerated as fast as possible before roaring down the street. About twenty or so cars had been barreling down both lanes of the street I had just turned onto, and they were now all bearing down on my car. Further complicating matters was the fact that more civilian cars were now driving on the streets, making it that much harder for me to shift my way around the streets and away from our hunters. Maria shook me on the shoulder. I ignored this, trying to keep my full concentration on the road so that I wouldn?t make any unnecessary mistakes that would lead to our demise. Maria shook my shoulder again, so I addressed her. ?What is it?? I asked nervously. ?I?m trying to pay attention to the road!? ?I think I see a potential escape route,? Maria said. ?Huh?? I asked. Maria pointed ahead. There was a small construction site ahead. The construction workers were working on a building. Near the building was a ramp. The cogs began turning in my head, but there was one niggling problem in the back of my mind. ?What would jumping the ramp do?? I asked Maria. ?They?d still be on our tail.? ?Look further ahead, still,? Maria told me. I looked further ahead and I suddenly got the gist of her plan. Ahead of us, about fifteen or so cars were roaring towards us, the same make as the cars that were coming at us from behind. I now knew exactly what Maria was planning, and though I did not want to go through with it, I knew that it was our only shot at survival. I pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor, loudly revving up the engine. My car?s tires emitted a fresh squeal and I could smell the smoke emanating from the burning rubber. I knew that by the end of this, my car would likely be useless, but none of that mattered to me; I just wanted to [i]live[/i], no matter what. I continued straight ahead, trying not to give any indication of what I was about to do. If the men who were chasing us had any inkling of what was going to happen, the plan would fail miserably. I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth, mentally preparing myself for the leap of faith that I was going to go through. My forehead was damp with sweat and any previous calm that I had been feeling only seconds earlier had all but vanished. Maria reached over and placed her hand upon my shoulder. ?It?s okay,? she said. ?I believe in you.? At that moment, I turned sharply to my right so that I was in front of the ramp. I barely had enough time to center the car before I was on top of it. The momentum that my car had been carrying was just enough to launch us into the air and just over the horde of cars that had been ready to overtake us. The driver?s stared dumbfounded at us, not realizing that they were still careening forward. Once they recognized the dire danger that they were in, it was too late. Each of the cars that had been chasing after us crashed into each other in a mass of metal and glass. A small explosion rocked the area, but I was far too afraid to look back at the mess that Maria and I had caused. I was close to tears, but Maria?s comforting hand on my shoulder kept me strong. I continued to drive until I made it to my home. My home was a bit out of the way, as it was in a secluded, forested area of the town, but it was within busing distance of the school, so I did not fret much when I stopped my car and found that my engine was shot. There was no way that I would be able to drive it again. However, I was simply glad to be alive and rid of our chasers, so I let out a relieved sigh, unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Maria had done the same by the time I was out of the car. ?Rough day, huh?? I asked uneasily, trying to bring some humor into the situation. Maria nodded weakly, then embraced me in a tight hug. I felt a large lump in my throat and coughed a bit. Maria let go of me, smiled awkwardly, and started walking towards my house. The relief I had been feeling dissipated slightly, as I felt something wrong, something pricking at me. I then noticed that one of the windows of my house was broken. ?You don?t think??? I asked, more to myself than anyone else. Before Maria could say anything I bolted towards my house, threw open the door and ran inside. The front room was completely empty. Nothing had been moved from its place, no signs of a struggle. I was completely unnerved; something definitely was not right. ?Mom!? I called, cupping my hands around my mouth. ?Dad!? Maria entered the house and started looking around. ?You stay down here and look around, Maria, and I?ll check upstairs.? Maria nodded resolutely and I ran up the stairs. My first instinct was to check my room. I opened my door, expecting some horrible sight, but there was nothing wrong in there. All of my things had been left in their proper place and it was as clean as could be. I closed my door and went into my parent?s room. The quiet ambience was definitely getting to me, and I couldn?t shake the feeling that my troubles were far from over. I didn?t see anything wrong as I walked into my parent?s room. Their bed was made, their shelves were still in place and their windows were open. However, as I turned around to walk out of the room, I noticed a dark red stain on the floor near their closet. My heart skipped slightly and I extended a shaking hand towards the closet doorknob. I opened the door slowly, and almost fainted dead away when the sunlight streaming in from outside illuminated the sight from within the closet. My parent?s dead bodies had been shoved into the closet. My dad?s shirt was streaked with crimson blood; his throat had been slashed and there was a deep wound in his chest, near his heart. Both of his legs had also been broken. My mom had not fared much better ? her hair was matted with coagulating blood, one of her eyes was missing, and she had a very wide, deep wound in her stomach. Both looked as if they had been dead for a while. I choked up slightly while I was telling this part of the story. ?You sure you want to go on right now?? the first man asked. ?We can stop for a few moments, if you like.? ?No,? I replied. ?I think that if I stopped, I wouldn?t be able to continue later. It would be best if I just pushed through.? ?Your call,? the first man said, handing a lit cigarette to the second man. I dropped to my knees in front of the closet, unable to believe that I was facing reality at that moment. I closed my eyes tightly hoping, praying, that when I opened them that this would prove to have been a simple mirage and that everything was really okay with the world. Of course, it wasn?t. I opened my eyes and the dead bodies of my parents were still stuffed in the closet. Tears welled up in my eyes and I buried my head against the floor, sobbing harshly. I heard the sound of someone running up the stairs and then Maria entered the room. She saw the tears streaking my face and looked very confused. ?What?s wrong?? she asked. Then, she turned her gaze towards the closet and let out a short, high-pitched scream. She collapsed on her knees next to me, her hands placed onto the carpet. ?Oh my gosh?I?I don?t know what to say?? At that moment, my sobbing continued, and the dam keeping my tears in broke down and water flowed steadily down my face. I cried for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was only a couple of hours. I calmed down enough later on in the night to create a makeshift grave for my parents. It made me angry that I would not be able to give them the burial that they deserved, what with the events of the past day weighing down on Maria and me, but I took what I could get. I shoveled the last bit of dirt onto my mother?s grave and patted it down so that it curved into a short, smooth lump. I walked over to the rose bush that grew in front of my house and plucked two roses from the bush, pricking my hand slightly on the thorns. I gathered up the courage to approach their graves without breaking into mass hysterics again, and I placed a rose on each of their graves. I swallowed a lump in my throat and stayed silent, my hands folded in front of me, my eyes closed and my head bowed. I looked up after my moment of silence and noticed that Maria was looking off to the side at a grove of trees. ?What?s wrong, Maria?? I asked, trying to blink back a fresh batch of tears. ?I thought I saw someone over there,? Maria said, her eyes narrowed. ?Just let it go right now,? I said. ?I don?t really feel like chasing after anyone right now. I just want to go to bed.? Maria appeared discouraged for a few seconds, then nodded. ?Yes, I suppose that?s for the best,? Maria said. ?Um?maybe now is not the best time to ask for a favor, but do you mind if I sleep over tonight?? ?No, not at all,? I said. ?I could probably use some company?considering?? ?Then it?s settled,? Maria said. ?You?ll probably need someone to drag you to school tomorrow, anyway.? Maria accompanied me to the front door, opened it for me and followed me inside. I trudged slowly up the stairs and into my room. ?You can use my bed if you want,? I said. ?I have no problems with sleeping on the floor.? ?Don?t be silly,? Maria said. ?I couldn?t possibly ask you to sleep on the floor. Just give me a pillow and a blanket, and I?ll be able to sleep.? ?If you want,? I said. I walked over to my closet, opened it up and reached up to the top shelf. I pulled down an extra blanket and pillow and handed them both to Maria. She thanked me and waited until I climbed into bed to fix up her sleeping spot. I turned off the light and pulled my covers close. Maria got up, walked over to my bed and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. ?Hang in there,? Maria said. ?Everything will be okay.? A few seconds later, I drifted off to sleep, forgetting all my troubles, yet remembering them all the same.

[QUOTE=Sesshomuru]I would want the Nintendo ds.I think nintendo is better then sony. And I've mostly got nintendo things.[/QUOTE] Please put more effort into your post quality. Your post doesn't really add very much to the discussion at hand; all you said, basically, was that you want the Nintendo DS. But [i]why[/i] do you want the DS? What is it about the DS that draws you to it over the PSP (based on the little information that's been released thus far lol)?

[b]Name:[/b] Lawrence "Larry" Moore Jr. [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Age:[/b] Eighteen [b]Biography:[/b] Born January 30th, 1949 to Maria Flores, a Mexican woman, and Lawrence Moore, a white man of mixed European heritage, Larry Moore Jr. has lived around Key City his entire life in one of its more Chicano neighborhoods. Larry showed an aptitude for learning from an early age, always eager to delve into books and absorb as much information as possible. He was also an extremely charming person, kind to everyone he met and always very humble. The people in his predominantly Mexican neighborhood loved him; they saw him as someone their people could be proud of, an example of what everyone of their race could strive to be if they worked hard enough. With this intelligence, however, came many burdens. Larry was pushed extremely hard by the local residents of the neighborhood and he felt very awful if he thought he slighted them in any way when it came to his academic studies. Though his teachers loved him, and pushed him just as hard as the residents of his neighborhood, the other kids resented him, because they felt he was given special treatment due to his race. His peers resented the fact that he always seemed to get "A's" on his papers, while they were relegated to lower grades, despite the fact that they felt they worked just as hard as Larry did. Even with these problems, though, Larry tried his best to enjoy life. He fell in love with baseball during middle school and played on his high school's varsity baseball team all four years as a center fielder. Though Larry did not thrive on competition as much as the other players did, he enjoyed the game as much, if not more, than they did, as it presented a fun challenge and an escape from the extreme rigors of his everyday life. Now, Larry is in the middle of his freshman year in college. He graduated from his high school as the valedictorian of the Class of 1966 and gained entry to a private college, one of the most prestigious schools in the state. His mother, along with the other residents of the neighborhood, cried tears of joy when "their little boy" walked during graduation as the valedictorian. His father, perhaps sensing that his son was not truly happy, decided to keep a low profile and simply smile at his beloved son as he walked down the graduation ramp. However, Larry's college life is not as his parents or anyone else is imagining it. Larry told his parents that he would go to college to study as an architect; in reality, his major is undeclared and he's trying out for the baseball team, attempting to simultaneously achieve his dream of playing baseball and finally getting the chance to grow up right. For most people, college is the rite of passage between youth and adulthood...it is no different for Larry, as he simply wants to be a real adult, instead of the fake he's been his entire life. [b]Personality:[/b] As mentioned earlier, Larry is an extremely intelligent young man. He's quiet, reserved and very humble. He is also not happy with his life. Throughout his developing years, Larry was pushed so hard by his family that he felt he had to accelerate his growth process and become an adult quicker than the other children. Larry never had an opportunity to experience the trials and tribulations of adolescence; it was as if he jumped from being a child to an adult, without any of the fun in between. He's never kissed a girl, much less had one as a girlfriend, and he never had any true friends that he could hang out and mess around with. The only outlet that Larry had to express his adolescent yearnings was baseball. On the baseball diamond, Larry felt free from the pressures and bindings of everyday life. He didn't have to be an adult, he didn't have to live up to any expectations, and he certainly didn't have to do things that other people wanted him to do...he was free to be himself and to have fun. Larry has done more growing up on the baseball field than at any other place during his short life. However, his athletic life was frowned upon heavily by his mother, who felt that baseball was not an adequate field of work for her only child. She reasoned that because he would be discriminated against his entire life, he would never be given a chance to succeed in baseball, so he should just give up and find a line of work where he could [i]really[/i] make others proud. Larry's father attempted to intercept this line of thinking, and wholly encouraged Larry's love of baseball, because, as he put it "there's no better time to be a kid than when you're actually a kid". Larry's entire life has been spent doing things because other people told him that he should attempt them; next to nothing Larry has done has been of his own free will. Larry never had a chance to grow up, he just went to sleep one night a kid, and woke up the next day as an adult. He's tired of doing things for others, because it's what the majority thinks is "right". Larry has taken his life into his own hands, and making his decisions based on his own wants, needs, yearnings and desires; he views his decisions not as "selfish" but directly representing his own needs as a human being. Larry wants nothing more than to be human. [b]Profession:[/b] Larry is a freshman in college, with an undeclared major. He is trying out for his school's baseball team and hopes to hone his skills enough so that he can eventually play for a team in the major leagues. [b]Physical Description:[/b] Larry inherited the dark skin and black hair of his mother, and the blue eyes and wiry frame of his father. Unlike his father, though, Larry is actually fairly muscular, though his muscles are more of the skinny, fast-twitch variety than the bulging muscles of professional weightlifters. Larry is of average height and is fairly handsome. He doesn't consider himself to be a knockout, and his looks are more understated than noticable. You really have to get to know him before you realize how handsome he is. Well, I'm thankful that I finally stopped being lazy and wrote this, heh. Even if I don't get in, this was a fun bio to write...I really like this character.

This is sort of a "side project" that I'm working on right now...it's a six-chapter story, not that long, but not really short, either. I'm expecting it to be about 45-55 pages long (by Microsoft Word standards) when it's finished. Anyway, I had started this story about two months ago, and then I abandoned it because I wasn't sure how to progress. However, the inspiration bug bit me again after I read the parts of the story that I had already completed and I knew that I would have to finish the story, so that's what I'm trying to do right now. So, yeah, I hope people enjoy it, heh. [center][i]?Heh. I see you?re still in the dark about everything.?[/center][/i] [center][i]?What are you talking about??[/center][/i] [center][i]?Michael?I?m not from around here??[/center][/i] [center][b][u]Prologue[/center][/b][/u] I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I could barely see a thing in the city. The streetlights were off, darkness had enveloped the area and, on top of that, it was raining pretty hard. I ducked, twisted and evaded the sporadic bullets that the men shot at me and squirmed my way across the streets and in between cars for cover. I was running on pure adrenaline; it was all that I had left. My heart was pounding into my chest like it was trying to burst out of my frontal cavity and escape my doomed body. My mind was swirling and buzzing with what seemed like a million thoughts, but they all related to the same thing: [i]How the hell was I going to get out of this situation?[/i] My legs were quivering, my breath was shaking and my mouth was thick with the taste of blood. I wasn?t sure how much longer I could run, but I was determined to keep away from them until I finally gave out. I turned a corner and sped across another crosswalk without paying any heed to whether or not a car was driving across my path. When I made it across the street, I forced my way through the small group of people who were, presumably, making their way home after a night of partying. I tried to explain my situation as best as I could to them to get them to move out of the way. ?Hey, get the hell out of the way!? I screamed. ?I need to keep moving!? ?Buzz off, you little bastard,? one of the people replied snottily. ?This sidewalk doesn?t belong to you, you know.? After some more pushing, I made my way through the crowd and into the open. After I took a couple of steps, I felt a massive burning pain in the side of my leg. I tripped up and fell straight into the ground, my arms breaking my fall slightly before my head banged against the sidewalk. I looked over my leg and saw that my upper thigh was bleeding slowly; I had been shot. I could feel blood dripping slowly down the side of my head, so I knew that I had been cut due to the impact of the fall. After a few seconds, I blacked out. I woke up strapped to a chair, a bright light glaring into my face. My pupils contracted sharply and I forced my eyes shut in order to keep a hold of my sight. After a few moments, my eyes adjusted slightly to the bright light and I was able to keep them open without sustaining too much damage to my sight. I felt a sharp pain in my ribs and in my head and I tried to move my arms in order to give myself some comfort, but I had forgotten that I was tied to a chair. ?You?ll be okay,? a voice said from behind me. ?We were able to remove the bullet from your thigh, stitch up the wound and wrap it up. We stitched up the wound in your head and bandaged that, as well.? ?Where am I?? I asked, trying to determine exactly where I was. ?You?re not at liberty to ask questions,? a different voice said. ?You?ll just be answering them.? The two men stepped in front of me. They were wearing dark dress suits, the color of which was impossible to tell in the glare of the light. Their hair was neatly trimmed and combed, their appearance totally professional. They both pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the table where I was situated. They glared at me ominously and the second man to address me took out a cigarette and a match. He struck the match against the table, lit his cigarette and began to smoke it. ?Are you both with them?? I asked. ?What?s your name?? the first man asked, ignoring my question. ?My name??? I muttered, mostly to myself. The hit on my head was still affecting me; my memory was slightly fuzzy. I struggled for a few seconds, my facial expression not betraying the sense of struggle that I felt and I finally managed to remember my name. ?My name is Michael.? The second man took out a manilla folder and peered at a paper inside. He nodded his head and snapped the folder shut. ?Good,? he said. ?You?re definitely the one we?ve been after.? ?What do you want with me?? I asked. ?We want you to tell us a story,? the first man said smoothly. ?A story??? I slurred. ?Yes,? the second man nodded. ?You?ve been through some peculiar events over the past couple of days. I think it would be for your benefit to tell us all about them. After all, you?re just dying to tell somebody, aren?t you?? I turned away from him. He was right, I did want to tell somebody, but I didn?t want to tell these two anything at all. ?Not being cooperative?? the first man asked. ?That?s okay?I?m sure that other people will be cooperative.? I perked my ears up at this. ?Perhaps your accomplice?? I closed my eyes tightly and hissed through my teeth softly. I had no idea where she was, so I couldn?t toss aside the possibility that these two had captured her as they had captured me. I bowed my head and muttered something under my breath. ?What was that?? the second agent asked. ?I said I?d tell you everything,? I said, a bit louder, choking back tears. ?Excellent,? the first agent said. ?You may begin whenever you wish.? ?Fine,? I said. ?I?ll tell you everything?? [i][center]End of Prologue[/i][/center] [b][u][center]Part One: The Principal?s Office[/b][/u][/center] My name is Michael. I?m eighteen years old and I?m a senior in high school. I wasn?t really different from the average person: Short black hair, brown eyes, and average height. I was never really good at making friends, though. There was just something about certain people that made them unapproachable to me. And, of course, being the stubborn person that I am, I couldn?t really bear to hang around these people, even at an early age. I was a loner from the time I started school until the time I finished school. Well, that?s not exactly true. I [i]did[/i] have one friend who stood by my side for all those years. Her name was Maria. I didn?t know what it was about me that made her want to be friends with me, but I never questioned it, mostly because I knew, deep down inside, that all I really yearned for was a companion. I don?t think I could have asked for a better one than Maria. She was extremely intelligent (far more than I), very friendly and very humble. She was serious most of the time, but she had a subtle sense of humor, as well. She was very pretty, too. What was so great about Maria was that she wasn?t one of those beauty queens who might have been beautiful but only cared for their looks; Maria wasn?t really into that sort of thing. Maria?s beauty was more?understated, I guess would be the right word. You wouldn?t really notice her if you were walking on the street, but once you did notice her, her beauty enraptured you. She had a fair complexion, straight, shining brown hair and soft, intelligent brown eyes. Her eyes were what got to me the most. When she looked at you, it was like she could read your mind, but it wasn?t an unpleasant feeling; you were more than willing to share your innermost feelings with her. You felt safe with her. I always appreciated the fact that Maria stuck around with me, especially since I knew that she probably could have been part of any social group that she wanted to be with. When we were kids, Maria had no troubles making friends, mostly because she had the same effect on everyone; you just wanted to be friends with her. But, out of anyone she could have chosen, she chose to be friends with me. That really meant a lot to me. As each year passed by, I appreciated our friendship more and more, especially since as time flew by, the people at school began to alienate and scorn her as much as they did me. She never seemed to notice, though ? I doubt she even really cared. Maria was invaluable to me when it came to coping with school, as well. None of my teachers really cared for me too much, despite the fact that I gave an honestly hard effort in class, did all my schoolwork and got decent grades in all my classes. I guess I was just born to be disliked by people. I could never get too down about things, though, because Maria was always there to comfort me and to talk to me. She seemed to understand everything and she always knew the right thing to say to make me see life in a different light and resolve all my problems. She was amazing. As what happens to most boys when they begin to grow up, I started to get interested in girls. There was a literal cavalcade of women that guys were able to choose from (though, not all girls were dumb enough to get mixed up with us and our hormones), but I knew that there was only one girl who interested me. Maria had been a great friend to me for a long time and I had wanted to take the next step with her. When I told of my feelings for her, she blushed lightly and told me that she could not engage in a relationship with me. I was heartbroken, of course, but she took me aside and explained that she was not ready for a relationship. Her logic, which she explained very eloquently, made perfect sense and set my fears at ease. Perhaps there was still a chance with Maria, after all. As we both got older, I would always ask if Maria was ready for a relationship but she would always respond with a light ?no?. She would always say that she was flattered that someone could like her as much as I did, but that she didn?t want to ruin our friendship by forcing a relationship to work. Again, her reasoning made lots of sense to me, so I chose to bide my time until she was ready. She was definitely worth it, in my mind. High school went by in the wink of an eye. It seems like just yesterday that I was a dumb freshman trying to get into Maria?s pants. I had matured considerably, though I still yearned for that unattainable relationship with Maria (though, my wants and desires had evolved to being emotionally based rather than simply sexually based). Ever since I underwent the maturation process, I was able to quell my needs and keep our friendship much the same as it had always been. Maria and I still talked, we still shared secrets and we still experienced life together. In a way, we were already a couple, just without me realizing it. I think that?s what Maria wanted all along. Unfortunately, during senior year, we didn?t have any classes together. Lunch and after school were the only times that we were able to see each other, which meant that I was prone to random torment from people during my classes. Luckily for me, most of the students in my classes had matured as I had and simply opted to pretend that I didn?t exist. I didn?t care for the feeling of loneliness that I had in my classes, but it was far preferable to being made fun of day in and day out. I was sitting in the back of my first class, English. Since it was so close to the end of the year, we were free to coast through the rest of our classes until finals. I opted to keep my usual seat in the back of the class, which was an ideal observation point. I looked outside. The sky was gray and gloomy, and it was sprinkling a bit outside. The weather would most likely graduate to a full-on storm by the time I got out of school. I took a pencil into my fingers and waggled it up and down, trying to find some way to alleviate the boredom that was overtaking me. The phone rang at the front of the classroom. The teacher picked up the receiver and listened to what was being said. After a few moments of scattered conversation, the teacher hung up the phone and turned to my direction. She pointed a finger at me and beckoned me to come to her. I got up and walked over to her, a bit embarrassed. I could feel everyone peering at me from all directions. It made me very uncomfortable. I reached the front of the teacher?s desk and she addressed me. ?Michael, the principal wants you in his office,? she said. ?I?m not in trouble, am I?? I asked. ?I don?t know,? the teacher admitted. ?But from the principal?s tone, I can assume that this is urgent business.? I left the room aware of the irony that I had been wishing for a way to alleviate the boredom that I had been feeling mere moments earlier. That feeling of boredom was now replaced by a feeling of dread and fear. Why was I being called to the office? Surely I had done nothing to incur the wrath of the principal. I assured myself that nothing would be wrong and I walked into the principal?s office. ?The principal will see you in a few moments,? the principal?s secretary said to me. ?He?s busy talking to another person right now.? I was slightly annoyed that the principal had called me up to his office while he was still busy with another appointment, but I kept this to myself and sat down on the bench near the principal?s room. I looked up at the clock that was hanging over the secretary?s head. It was one of those goofy cat clocks with the huge eyes and the dangling tail. This clock ticked and tocked with every passing second. At first, it was easy to ignore, but after a while the ticking started to annoy me. Each soft click got louder and louder and forced itself into my mind. The constant pounding of the noise was infinitely grating to my ears. I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to make an impenetrable wall to keep the noise out, but my actions were in vain. Just when I felt I could not take the noise any longer, a loud buzz rang through the room. ?The principal will see you now.? I sighed heavily, got up and walked into the principal?s office. The principal was nowhere in sight, however. In his stead was a man in a dark suit sitting in the principal?s chair. He leaned backwards slightly, took out the cigarette that he was smoking and smashed it into the ash tray on the far right side of the principal?s desk. ?Hold on,? the second man said. ?Are you saying that you came into contact with one of our agents before now?? ?Yeah,? I replied. ?That?s exactly what I?m saying. And are you saying that you?re connected with him?? The second man stayed silent. The first man smirked to himself and waved off the question. Then, he addressed his partner. ?Shut up and let him tell the story,? the first man said, though not without a suspicious look of his own on his face when he peered back at me. ?You?re Michael, correct?? the man asked. ?Yes, I am,? I replied. ?Are you aware of who I am?? the man asked me. ?No, sir,? I said. ?I don?t know who you are.? ?I don?t want to alarm you,? the man said. ?But I work with the government. There have been some?strange happenings, shall we say, related to your school.? ?I haven?t done anything, have I?!? I said, justifiably afraid. ?Oh no,? the man said. ?Of course not. We?re just questioning you and your peers in order to get an idea of what?s going on at the school. This has nothing to do with you or any one person, I can assure you.? ?Well, that?s good,? I said. ?Yes,? the man nodded. ?Now, have you noticed any strange events happening around here?? ?No, not really,? I replied. ?No unexplained events, strange activity or?less than normal circumstances?? the man asked. ?No, I haven?t,? I said. ?Okay then,? the man said. ?You may take a seat if you wish.? I hadn?t noticed that I had been standing the entire time. I sat down in the chair in front of the principal?s desk as the man shuffled through a few papers in a manilla folder. ?What?s that?? I asked. ?That?s none of your business,? the man replied. He closed the folder and slipped it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. ?Now, I have a few questions to ask you about some certain people?? Before the man could ask me any questions, however, the principal burst into the room. ?I need to talk to you quickly,? the principal said to the man, with a hint of impatience. The man stood up and glared at the principal. ?Not right now,? he said. ?Can?t you see that I?m busy?? ?It?s urgent,? the principal said. ?This boy can wait until later.? The man sighed and walked around the desk and left the room with the principal. I sat back in my chair and waited for a bit. The smell of cigarette smoke had fully pervaded the room and I coughed a bit. I went over to the window to get some fresh air, when a rock banged against the glass. I gave a start and retreated from the window a few steps. As soon as I was certain that approaching the window would be safe, I went over to it and opened it. A rock flew from the ground, hitting me between the eyes. ?Ow!? I shouted, falling against the ground, clutching the spot where the rock had hit me. My head was pounding with pain and my vision blurred considerably. I managed to stand up after a few seconds and I groped my way over to the window. I blinked my eyes a few times and regained control of my sight enough so that I could see who was outside. It was Maria. ?I?m sorry!? Maria shouted with a worried look on her face. ?I wasn?t sure whether you had heard the first rock, so I threw a second one!? ?It?s okay,? I said, glad to see a familiar face. Then, something dawned on me. ?Shouldn?t you be in class right now, Maria?? Maria frowned for a second, then looked up at me. ?They took me out of class to question me,? she said. ?You too?? I asked. She nodded. ?Do you have any idea what they?re questioning us about?? ?I don?t have a clue,? Maria said. ?This whole thing is really fishy to me?but we can?t worry about that right now. We?re obviously involved in this in some way or another, no matter how much those men try to say that we aren?t, so we need to hide from them until we can be sure of what they really want.? ?Where are we going to hide from them?? I asked. Maria appeared thoughtful for a few seconds. ?We could always go to the city,? Maria suggested. ?The city?? I asked. ?How are we going to get over there?? ?You still have your car, don?t you?? Maria asked. ?Yeah,? I replied. ?But it?s in the front parking lot. Do you think that we?ll be able to make it over there without anyone seeing us?? ?I don?t know,? Maria admitted. ?But we have to try. I don?t like the looks of those men?something tells me that they?re extremely dangerous.? ?Yeah,? I said. ?I agree with you there. Wait, how am I going to get out of [i]here[/i]?? ?Climb out the window,? Maria said. ?And grab onto the vine.? I reached outside and felt for the vine on the left side of the principal?s window. I felt it in my hands, grabbed it and climbed on top of the window sill. As soon as I knew that I had a good grip on the vine, I started to climb down it, using the soles of my shoes to keep a good hold on the wall. I rappelled slowly down the wall and made it down after a few seconds, since the principal?s window was only about thirty feet above the ground. ?Okay,? I said, after leaping a couple feet off the wall and landing onto the ground. ?Let?s go.? Maria and I snuck off, half-walking, half-running to the parking lot where all of the students parked their cars. My car was on the far-off side of the parking lot. We snuck over there using the cover of the various cars that students drove over to the school. We had to keep low to the ground for the most part, since students, including myself, could not afford large cars. After a couple of minutes, we made it over to my car. I peered out from the car next to it to make sure that nobody was watching. I crept over to my car and unlocked the door. ?One more time,? I said. ?Are you absolutely sure that we should do this?? ?Yes,? Maria said, nodding resolutely. ?Okay,? I answered, getting into the driver?s seat of the car. Maria got into the front passenger?s seat and buckled her seatbelt. I did the same and, after adjusting the mirrors a bit and getting comfortable, I put the key into the ignition and turned on the car. I looked around, pulled the car out of the parking space and drove out of the school. And there's Chapter One. I hope the story catches on a bit, though I'll likely finish it off even if it doesn't, because I just want to write the story for myself, heh. Questions, comments and critique of any sort are welcome.

While the card is decent enough, I think the build for Vengance has been sort of underwhelming. I think that Vengance will deliver as far as match quality is concerned, but Raw needs to improve on building up their PPVs a bit. Anyway, here are my predictions: Randy Orton vs. Edge - Orton's going over here. I have to go along with everyone else, I don't see Orton losing the IC title until at least Summerslam. It's unfortunate that Shelton Benjamin got injured, because they would have put on a fantastic PPV match, which could've segued into an awesome Ladder Match victory for Benjamin at Summerslam. Oh well. At least we can say that putting the IC title on Randy Orton was pretty successful. La Resistance vs. Ric Flair and Eugene - Again, this is fairly obvious, La Resistance are going over here. Hopefully, this won't be just a comedy match, and they'll let Eugene wrestle a bit, because the WWE needs to restore some of the credibility that Eugene lost on Monday. Chris Jericho vs. Batista - This is a tough choice, but I think that Batista will go over here, due to some dirty tactics. Batista could benefit from a win more than Jericho (since Jericho will be over with the crowd, anyway), so I think that Jericho will do the job and go on to get a big victory of some sort at Summerslam. Kane vs. Matt Hardy - All signs point to Kane kicking Hardy's ***. Poor Matt, sucks to be him right now :( Chris Benoit vs. Triple H - Like Orton, I don't see Benoit losing the title until at least Summerslam. I think we can safely say that giving the title to Benoit was pretty successful and provided for a fun ride, and that will continue until Summerslam. To be honest, though, I hope the rumors of an Edge title run do not come into fruition.

Haha, nice ED reference, Wondershot. Charlie sat hunched over in the driver's seat of the truck, glaring at the road ahead of him and trying desperately to ignore the assorted sounds coming from the back seat. The pit of Charlie's stomach felt like it was filled with lead, and he felt the urgent need to vomit profusely upon the dashboard. However, the desire to finally arrive home and escape from all this nonsense easily trumped the desire to sully the dashboard of this truck. After what seemed like an eternity, Charlie finally spotted Apartment Building C off in the distance. He let out a wondrous sigh, at the exact same time as the trucker in the back let out a wondrous sigh. Charlie shuddered to himself and suppressed the curiosity within himself that was telling him to take a look and see just what the hell was going on back there. Of course, since the trucker had told Charlie what he was going to do, and in full detail, Charlie knew all too well what was happening; he just didn't want to witness it with his own eyes. Meanwhile, while the other tenants were attending to Emilio down in the basement, Simon craned his neck, apparently trying to see or listen to something. George, who was stuck between morbid fascination at how many squirrels he had killed and utter revulsion at the squirrel that Kenneth had accidently decapitated, noticed Simon's odd behavior and addressed him. "Master Simon," George said in a very prim and proper tone. "Whatever are you doing?" Before George could get an answer that would satisfy his the curiosity he was feeling at the moment, the poltergeist suddenly bolted past the stairs, through the door and out of the basement. Simon kept plowing forward until he ended up outside, where he spotted Charlie driving up the road in a truck. Cursing to himself, Simon dashed back into the house and into the basement. "I knew I heard something fishy," Simon muttered to himself before coming to a halt in front of his fellow tenants. "Charlie's coming back, everyone!" The tenants, who had been carefully attending to Emilio up to this point, suddenly forgot about him/her and went into a panic. "If he, like, sees us down here, who knows what he'll do?!" Candy yelled. "Don't worry," Kenneth said, the only seemingly calm person in the group. "We just have to get to our rooms [i]quickly[/i]." As soon as Kenneth finished his sentence, the tenants took his advice to heart and advanced up the stairs as fast as they could. With a quizzical look on his face, Charlie slowed the truck down to a stop in front of the apartment building. He knew he had seen something bolt back into the building and he was very certain that it was Simon. Simon was one of the biggest, if not [i]the[/i] biggest, troublemakers in the apartment building, so Charlie was not feeling especially confident about the state of things in there. After he stopped, Charlie shifted the car into the parking gear, and hopped out the door after unbuckling his seat belt. The back door opened and the trucker tossed Charles to him. The glass casing on Charles was slightly foggy, but other than that, he seemed unharmed. "I had a great time," the trucker said. "If you ever need another favor, just give me a holler." The trucker climbed back into the front seat, turned his truck back on and drove off. As soon as the truck was out of sight, Charlie turned around and ran back into the apartment building. He took a look around the front room; everything seemed like it was in order. "Hello!" Charlie yelled. "Everybody doing okay?!" There was no answer. It was then that Charlie knew that something wasn't right. He then went over to the basement area. The door was still closed. Charlie opened the door and stepped inside. He noticed a streak of brown on the wall. He began to walk closer to it, when he felt his foot step in something warm and mushy. He looked down and saw his foot stuck in the patch of quicksand. "What the hell is this?!" Charlie yelled, frantically tugging at his foot in order to get it out. "Get me out of here!" Every time Charlie pulled, he got even more stuck in the quicksand. His cries and screams for help echoed for hours and hours before one of the tenants even dared to help him. Charlie lay back on his bed later on that night. He had been trying to get out of that quicksand patch for a full three hours before anyone had shown up to help him. Only his head had remained untouched by the quicksand before Kenneth had arrived; soon afterwards, the other tenants showed up, all of them very tentative about helping Charlie out. After some coaxing from Kenneth and George, however, they eventually agreed to free Charlie, which, despite the fact that he was happy to finally be freed from the quicksand, did nothing to lighten up his mood. None of the tenants replied when he had asked them what was going on. They had all denied wrongdoing of any sort when Charlie asked them about the quicksand patch and he angrily gave up after a few minutes of interrogation. Now, Charlie was in bed, trying desperately to get some sleep. He turned around in his bed and caught a glance out the window. At first, he saw nothing. Then, a bright light overtook him. The light was bright blue-white and pervaded every inch of Charlie's room. Charlie trying to catch a glimpse of where the light was emanating from, but could only see a silhouette of a large, mechanical (to Charlie's estimation) ship. After a few moments, the light faded away and Charlie could barely make out two fuzzy figures scampering into the bushes before his eyesight went back to normal. Charlie again lay back in bed, but this time, he was thinking. Was it possible? Did what he just saw really happen? [b]Was Apartment Building C being invaded by [i]aliens[/i]?[/b] And there's the post, and the opening for the next scenario. I had a specific idea for the aliens, but I think I'll keep it a bit open-ended for now and see where this takes us.

I think he's written more good novels than bad ones, but he's still up and down, for me. When he's good, then he's really [b]good[/b]; King is adept at getting you interested in the storyline and leaving you somewhat satisfied when you're finished with the novel. However, when King is bad, then he's really, really [b]bad[/b] lol. A couple of his novels have just left me shaking my head, but my good experiences with his novels outweigh the bad experiences. I've read just about all of his "classic" stuff, but his Dark Tower novels are still my favorite, because I've grown rather attached to the characters throughout the series. Like my experiences with King's novels, though, the Dark Tower series is definitely [i]not[/i] perfect and there are some disappointing moments within the series along with the good (such as [u]Wizard and Glass[/u], which I felt dragged on endlessly in the middle, but I suppose that it was unavoidable, since King needed to develop [spoiler]the story of Roland's youth and his romance with Susan Delgado[/spoiler]). But, again, the Dark Tower books are wholly recommended, because they are still very good novels. In fact, book six recently came out, which I still need to pick up and read, heh.

[quote name='ScirosDarkblade']And everyone's forgetting the ultimate example of a serious not-just-for-kids cartoon that came out in the U.S. and friggin rocked--Batman: The Animated Series. Great animation, great writing, killer voice acting. Overall a masterpiece. It's the show that's almost the exception to the rule when it comes to American cartoons nowadays.[/quote] Definitely agreed. I was an avid fan of Batman: The Animated Series when I was younger; it was one of the greatest shows I've ever seen in my life, and I'm not just restricting that statement to animated series. Anyway, as has been said, you can't really come up with a true answer to this question, because it's all subjective. Personally, I prefer Western animation, mostly because many of my favorite animated shows are Western series (The Simpsons, Batman: TAS, Futurama, etc.). I like some Eastern series, but the majority of them aren't really accessible to me, simply because I don't have the money to buy them or they never get licensed and shown on TV over here. Can't like what I haven't seen, you know? I could always go to fansubs, but I generally prefer not to, for various reasons. For me, I grew up on Western series, because those were what was available to me, and quite a few of them are much better than a lot of people seem to give them credit for. I don't know about anyone else, but I could probably name off just as many great Western animated series that I've seen as people could with Eastern series. Why? Because they're what I watch, and there's going to be that form of bias about a lot of the time when people try to compare Eastern and Western series (it wouldn't be apparent in [i]everyone[/i], of course, but it would be there in a lot of people).

We have a Chrono Trigger thread right [url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=36679][b]here[/b][/url], but I understand if you didn't see it, since it might've been a few pages down...however, next time, be sure to run a quick search to make sure that nobody has already made a thread about the game you want to make a thread about. Also, what you have right here isn't really very adequate in terms of starting up some conversation...it's like suggesting a topic and expecting everyone else to provide the conversation. When making a thread, you should provide some of your own information, such as why you like the game and things like that. If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to PM myself of any of the other mods in this section. Thanks. Thread Closed

Cars passed by quicker than Charlie could see. Being a hitchhiker was much tougher than he would have ever imagined. It seemed that not one driver took even a cursory glance at Charlie as they passed by. Charlie sighed heavily; it had been about a half hour or so since his tire had blown out. He had gone to every building around the area, but everyone had refused him use of their phone, so he was unable to call for him. Resigned to nothing else, Charlie then had no choice but to sink as low as to hitchhike. It was really too bad that he was no good at it. "Why don't you try for a bit, Charles?" Charlie asked. "Maybe someone will notice you." Charlie went over to the passenger side of his car, unbuckled Charles from his seat and placed him onto the side of the road. Charles and Charlie stood on the curb, as cars continued to pass them by again and again. Charlie looked down at Charles for a few moments, humming to himself as if he was thinking very hard about something. "Do you know what I think the problem is, Charles?" Charlie asked. "You're not showing enough leg. Whenever a hot chick wants to get a ride, she always shows some leg. Granted, you might not be a hot chick, but it wouldn't hurt to show a little leg, right?" Charlie stared down at a few moments at Charles before snorting. "Hah! Whoever said that showing a little leg automatically made you a slut? You're too insecure about these things, Charles, I swear." After a couple of minutes, a bright red pickup truck stopped near the curb where Charlie and Charles were stationed. Charlie brightened up considerably and went over to the truck, whose window was starting to roll down in response to this. "Hey, thanks for stopping," Charlie said. "Finally, someone here with a little compassion for their fellow man!" "Well, I saw your little buddy flashing some leg, and I thought I'd give you a hand," the truck driver said. He was a burly giant of a man; he had on an orange and white University of Tennessee cap, a sweaty white t-shirt with a plaid checkered vest on over it and tight gray jeans. "Do you mind if I ask your friend for a little favor before I let you guys come with me?" "Uh...sure, why not?" Charlie said. The driver beckoned Charlie closer and whispered in his ears. As the driver continued whispering, Charlie's facial expression gradually changed from one of barely suppressed happiness to one of horrified disgust. He paled considerably when the driver was finished and took a tentative look over at Charles. "Are you [i]serious[/i]?" "Don't judge me!" the driver yelled. "It's a simple request, now will he do it or won't he?!" "Charles...?" Charlie looked over at Charles, his stomach lurching and heaving. "Please don't look at me like that, Charles...it's for the best, you know? I'd do it if I were in your position..." Charlie looked back at the driver, and he suddenly thought that he sounded none too convincing just now. However, he scooped up Charles in his arms and handed him reluctantly over to the truck driver, who took him to the backseat of his truck. "You can drive us to your home," the truck driver said, handing Charlie the keys. "I'll stay in the back." Before Charlie could respond, the truck driver went into the back and became oblivious to anything and everything that Charlie might have been able to say at that particular moment. Charlie wondered just what the hell he had gotten himself into, but decided to just shut up and drive. It would all be over soon and, hopefully, there wouldn't be too much damage back at the apartment building. You guys are doing great so far. Just know that I'll be the one who decides when Charlie finally arrives home - just keep doing your thing :)

Source: [url]http://www.gamespot.com/news/2004/07/02/news_6101840.html[/url] [quote=GameSpot][b]After reporting a $25.4 million loss in its last quarter, the troubled publisher reveals it must find new financing by August.[/b] Today, Acclaim released its earnings for the financial year ending March 31, 2004. The figures were grim: The company reported a net loss of $56.4 million for its 2004 fiscal year, with net revenues down $67.4 million from the previous year ($142.7 million versus $210.1 million). While the FY2004 net loss was slightly less than that of FY2003's $84.8 million shortfall, it contained a disturbing trend. Nearly half Acclaim's losses--$25.4 million--were during the quarter that ended March 31, 2004. The shortfall also came despite the fact that the company raised $15.0 million by selling off convertible subordinate notes, short-term bonds convertible to stock, 16 percent of which it has since defaulted on. Acclaim has also borrowed $5 million in short-term loans from GMAC Commercial Finance, General Motor's investment-banking arm. In May and June, Acclaim negotiated a series of loan extensions with GMAC, which will now expire on August 4. After that date, GMAC will no longer lend Acclaim any more capital, meaning it must find an alternate source of financing. Acclaim's report says that it has "entered into a letter of intent with a proposed new lender for a $30.0 million asset-based credit facility, with an equity component, to replace the credit agreement with GMAC." However, the report does not name the lender, and it clearly states that, "there can be no assurance that the new credit facility or any other banking facility will be consummated." What happens if this deal falls through? By Acclaim's own account, the consequences would be dire. "Failure to obtain a new banking facility would materially adversely affect the Company's operations and liquidity, and the Company could be forced to cease operations or seek bankruptcy protection." This scenario, according to the report, could see "the sale of assets or the consolidation or closing of certain operations, additional staff reductions, and the delay, cancellation, or reduction of certain product development and marketing programs." Despite all the doom and gloom contained in the report, analysts still hold out some hope for Acclaim's future. "Acclaim shares remain a speculative investment until management demonstrates its ability to execute on its strategy of making fewer, higher quality games," said Michael Pachter of Wedbush Morgan, "[but] we believe that the company has a respectable lineup of games planned for release in FY05." Besides the just-released Showdown: Legends of Wrestling, the titles Acclaim plans on shipping in the year are: 100 Bullets (fall 2004 - PS2, Xbox), Juiced (fall 2004 - PS2, Xbox, PC), The Red Star (fall 2004 - PS2, Xbox), Worms Forts: Under Siege! (fall 2004 - PS2, Xbox, PC), ATV Quad Power Racing 3 (winter 2005 - PS2, Xbox), Emergency Mayhem (winter 2005 - PS2, Xbox), and The Last Job (winter 2005 - PS2, Xbox). Acclaim is also publishing the remake of The Bard's Tale internationally. Noticeably absent from Acclaim's summer release schedule is Combat Elite: WWII Paratroopers, the PlayStation 2 and Xbox WWII shooter that was to be released in mid-July. The game, originally titled Airborne, was to be published by Interplay until BattleBorne took it to Acclaim. When Interplay filed suit in Los Angeles against BattleBorne in March, Acclaim reps said the game would be released in summer 2004 regardless. However, this morning, an Acclaim staffer told GameSpot that the game was "definitely delayed" and gave no tentative release date.[/quote] I can't really say that I'm surprised, seeing as Acclaim's been on the downward spiral for a while now. There's still some slight optimism on their front, but I'm not really sure if that will amount to that much, ultimately.

Again, just like with the other .hack thread that was closed, you should know that there is a .hack thread located [b][url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=38446]here[/b][/url] and any posts pertaining to the .hack series should go in there. We prefer one thread per game (or series, in this case), as it helps keep down the clutter in our section. If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to PM myself or any of the other mods in this section ^_^ Thread Closed

[quote name='man][FONT=Arial][SIZE=1][COLOR=Navy]Hey I heared abot that poem and phares I have the game.[/COLOR][/SIZE'][/FONT][/quote] If you want to speak about the poem in RPGoddess' signature, then please PM her about it rather than making an off-topic post about it. Thanks.

Nebackenezzer: Don't worry about it, a couple days without posting isn't too bad at all ^_^ Like I said in the recruitment thread, I don't expect everyone to be able to post every day, as that's wholly unrealistic, but as long as you don't abandon the RPG, then I'll be happy, heh. "...and that's the last of your money," the teller said. "The total comes to--" "I know what it comes to!" Charlie snapped impatiently. "You don't have to tell me!" "Fine, be that way," the teller smirked. "You're not going to make me disappear, are you?" Charlie glared menancingly at the teller and stomped out of the room, the other tellers laughing gaily at him all the while. Charlie opened the front door of the bank, stepped through and slammed it shut in the face of another person who was going to walk through it after Charlie left. The person hit the front door, and fell over backwards in a heap. "Think they can insult me so easily," Charlie groused to himself. "Why, I could pull better insults out of my ***! And I have, too, now that I think about it..." Charlie walked up to his parking spot, only to find that his car was not in the place that he had parked it. "...where the [i]hell[/i] is my [strike]grilled cheese[/strike] car?" Suddenly, Charlie's old, beat up car came barreling into the parking lot. Charlie dove out of the way into some bushes that were in a few of the curbs seperating some of the parking spots. The car slowed down and parked perfectly in the spot that Charlie had parked in earlier. Charlie approached the car apprehensively, and found Charles sitting in the front seat, with a screwdriver in the ignition. "Charles!" Charlie yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Charlie then noticed a bag of doughnuts in the seat next to Charles. "Oh, thought you'd go on a little joyride and pick up some doughnuts, huh? I'm disappointed in you, Charles...I thought you'd be bigger than that, but I guess you're not." Charlie opened the driver's door, and shoved Charles into the passenger seat, on top of the bag of doughnuts. He then took out the screwdriver, getting a small electric shock for his efforts, and tossed it out the side window. "I'm going to punish you when we get home, Charles," Charlie said. "You've been a naughty boy...oh, wipe that grin off your face, you pervert, you know what I meant!" Charlie jammed the key into the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. He drove along slowly, when he noticed something in an alley. It was a box. "That is a nice box," Charlie said to himself. "Just imagine the speech I could give on that..." Charlie then went into a self-induced fantasy which included him standing upon the box giving a wondrous speech to the tenants about how idiotic that they were for paying him in coins. "But, sir," Tom interrupted. "I paid you in cash!" "You're still an idiot," Charlie said and burst into a long, overracted cackle. Charlie snapped out of his daydream and grinned to himself. Somehow, during the fifteen seconds it took him to imagine that, Charlie had evaded crashing into another car, so he pulled over onto the side of the road and made his way into the alley. He picked the box up off of the ground gently and examined it. There was a small nail on the bottom of it. "This won't do at all," Charlie said, and he pulled the nail out of the box and threw it onto the street. The nail clinked and clanged against the ground before rolling around for a few seconds and settling itself upright just in front of Charlie's back leftside tire. Charlie smiled down at the box and went back to his car. He opened the back door and put the box down on the seat. He then made his way back over to the driver's seat, and started up the car. He shifted the car into reverse, and pulled back slightly, barely missing the nail. He then shifted the car into drive and pulled out of his parking spot, running over the nail completely. A loud bang shot through the area, throwing Charlie into a complete and utter panic. He twisted the steering wheel every which way, but only managed to swerve out of control and crash into a yellow (not red, yellow) fire hydrant. Instead of rudely shoving the hydrant off of its current position, however, Charlie's car simply filled to the brim with water. "This just isn't my day," Charlie burbled from inside of the car.

I like Jurassic Park quite a bit, and like wrist cutter, I think 2 and 3 are more than watchable, since I've seen plenty of movies that are far worse. Who could really complain about seeing badass dinosaurs onscreen? Unless you like ruining childhood memories, that is. Anyway, I never expected really deep plots when I watched any of the Jurassic Park films - I expected a lot of action and dinosaurs hunting down some humans. I got what I was looking for, and it was done pretty well. If you're going into this movie with the expectations of a film critic, then I could see how you wouldn't enjoy them, but I like the movies well enough lol.

Yeah, like Desbreko said, Four Swords Adventures isn't a 20 hour game, but it's by no means short; in fact, I've been pleasantly surprised with the length of the game. Eight worlds with three decently sized levels each was actually a bit more than I was expecting, heh. Right now, I'm close to beating the game, as I'm on the last level. I was playing it yesterday, but ran into a room that I simply [i]could not get out of[/i], unless I had a certain item, which pissed the hell out of me, so I stopped playing lol. But I'm going to go back to it today, just because I want to finish it off and see if the final two boss fights live up to my high standards of Zelda boss fights.

I was a bit wary about signing up, but now that I've read through it, I think I'll give it a go. I think that I'd be able to keep up with what you're looking for, heh. [b]Name:[/b] Michael Zavala [b]Age:[/b] Nineteen [b]Sex:[/b] Male [b]Appearance:[/b] Michael is of average height, with a fairly athletic build. Not overly muscular, but not completely skinny, either. He's dark-skinned with short black hair, brown eyes and a sort of "peach-fuzz" short goatee. His clothing at the time includes a red Queens of the Stone Age shirt with black lettering, blue jeans and black sneakers. Michael does not wear any accessories other than a rubber band on his left wrist and a knee brace on his left knee. The knee brace is required due to an accident that happened when Michael was very young, which left his left knee slightly weaker than his right knee. [b]Background:[/b] Michael grew up in a fairly nice part of a not-so-nice town. Due to some harsh experiences during his early years in school, Michael became extremely introverted and had a hard time making friends. For years, he was obsessed with doing anything and everything completely on his own, without accepting a helping hand from anyone. It was only in recent years that Michael began to break out of his shell. He made sincere, and somewhat successful, attempts to make friends with people and eventually grew more friendly and sociable because of it. It was due to the actions of a few of his newfound friends that Michael really began to develop a love for music. He already had a love of writing that he developed at a young age, and his love for music only nutured these feelings. Michael had always had a love for magazines and decided to find a job as a writer for a music magazine. During the early part of his career, he was relegated to local magazines that went under mere weeks after he joined them, but he hit what he considers to be his main shot into the "big time"; a magazine hired him to fly to Ottawa and write a story about the local music scene and how it has evolved over the years. Michael has only one fear, and this is the fear of the unknown. Whether it's in dark places, around hidden corners or anything else, Michael is deathly afraid of what he does not see coming. When he has to be, Michael can be brave and overcome these fears, but this does not happen very often. [b]Equipment:[/b] Michael brought along his sharpened No. 2 pencil and a small notebook for the trip. [b]Miscellaneous:[/b] Michael is quiet, easygoing and has a good sense of humor, though he does get very nervous around strangers, because he's afraid of making a bad impression. He is sarcastic only occasionally, usually choosing to employ only very subtle sarcasm, rather than the overt sarcasm one usually hears in high school or college.

We currently have a thread pertaining to the .hack games [b][url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=38446]here[/b][/url]. We try to keep things limited to one thread per game (or series, in this case) to cut down on the clutter. If you have any questions about this, feel free to PM myself or any of the other moderators in this section ^_^ Thread Closed