Raiha

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]From the middle of the sea translates musically into 'Middle C.' Which is the center note on a keyboard from whence most musical training begins. A half step is a space down directly from one note to the one immediately next to it. Whether a sharp [black key] or otherwise. Down means to the left, but turning back up means the exact opposite...obviously. The significance of 26 is still unclear to me, but there are only 6 musical notes in all. C, D, E, F, G, A, B. Unless it means just 26 half steps upwards. But as far as minim goes, it's just another word for half note. And that's as far as my musical theory training [12 freaking years of piano] will go.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"] The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together Love Shack baby, Love Shack bay-bee. Love baby, that's where it's at, Ooo love baby, that's where it's at ........ Sorry. Automatic response. Let me just find my hairspray and poouf up my hair. That way I'll fit in. How excellent is this. And they're definitely not virginal. I think 'Love Nest' might've been good too...[/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Shy'][size=1][b]Raiha[/b]: Where the heck did Eva get the idea to travel abroad? It came across as a little... jarring. While I don't object to the idea of her traveling or anything, it just seemed to come out of nowhere given her recent appearances. -Shy[/size][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Maybe 'Anywhere But Here' would've been more suitable? I don't know, she doesn't appear to have categorically any prospects at home, and in the absence of character guidance from her creator....mostly just pick the ideas out of hats is what we're going to end up doing.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[RIGHT][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/gustave-avatar.gif[/IMG][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/maceyellen-chronicle.jpg[/IMG][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/marieevangeline-chronicle.jpg[/IMG][/RIGHT] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]Gustave raised his glass to clink gently against Macey's and the two drank to general good health, regardless of what lay ahead. The conversation flowed gently, not too cheerful, but tending towards subjects of mutual interest. The latest in technology, business, subjects that might've been dull for listeners, but interesting for both. Eventually the dinner came to a close, and the two stepped out onto the lawn. Lazarus, looking fully recovered and resplendent in a jeweled saddle cocked his head and plumed his tail grandly, showing off just a little for them both.[/i] "They say Chimaera begin to resemble their owners." "So you're a showboater then?" "Ah, you see right through me, don't you." [i]With practiced movements, Gustave led Lazarus through his paces, the tread moving from slow to quick in an instant. The Chimaera led them both across the lake, the sound of his massive talons crunching heavily into the gravel, grinding the rock to dust. Macey held onto Gustave's waist gamely, her head pressed against his warm back, feeling safe as the two swept grandly around the estate at a fantastic speed. And when Gustave urged Lazarus back down towards the stables, he gently spread his wings to slow them down without jarring, and came to a full stop, tossing his head brightly. Gustave slid down from his back and reached up to catch Macey around her waist. They said their goodbyes very politely, perhaps too politely, with the note of Vincent's death a dull weight in Macey's purse. The servants brought out her effects, while another ostler lead up Macey's gelding. Using the mounting block, she slid into the saddle gamely and gathered up the reins in one gloved hand.[/i] "Will you call on me tomorrow Gustave?" "If it's convenient for you, I would love to." [i]She held out one hand to him and he kissed it gently, then waved as Macey wheeled the gelding around in a quick spin and gave him a kick. The two took off like an arrow loosed from a bow, disappearing into a white blur at the corner of the gate. No more than twenty minutes later, Macey dismounted at the stables of Rosengard, the groom taking her reins gallantly, as she walked towards the house, Mell coming out to take her hat, jacket, and gloves. A short bath later, Macey was dressing in a light gauzy gown, suitable for reposing both in bed and in the lady's parlor on the east side of the estate. Once there, Macey sat back with the evening papers, as Eva swept in several minutes later and flopped down on one of the chintz chairs.[/i] "So did you have a great time with Gustave today?" "Excellent. He's such a gentleman." [i]Macey wasn't sure why she'd kept Vincent's death from her twin, but she somehow knew that Eva wasn't the person to discuss it with. Instead, they chattered about the changes of the day.[/i] "What will you do? Go with Gustave to Anova?" "Perhaps. What about you?" "I'm thinking of traveling abroad. You and I both have plenty of money that's safely tucked away. I could travel for years." "Sounds exciting. I'm sure you'd have an excellent time." [i]Eva agreed, then pranced off, most likely to go to bed or find others to gossip with. Macey yawned once and leaned back, swirling a cup of tea on the end table next to her. The newspapers spread before her seemed to blur slightly, and she closed her eyes for just a moment, waiting for her aunt to return.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Drat, now we'll be stuck with the nincompoop for all eternity. Unless, like Sandy said, the little bint gets her claws into him. Maybe she'll sneak poison into his cup but end up poisoning his guards instead. Oh that'd be nice and horrible. But it doesn't matter so much to Macey. She'll soon be living in another country anyway. HAH!.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Not sure if this is just a testament to how awesome she really is, but you appear to have listed Aaryanna twice. But otherwise...Muahahahah! Fear me and my BAMFness.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Shy'][size=1]What are you talking about? Bavaria [i]still has[/i] a husband. Heck, by the end of this thing she might even have two... oh my.[/size][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Not according to the courts now I suppose. Well yet. "Presumed dead" is the phrase I believe.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='James'][font=franklin gothic medium]Also I somehow can't imagine Bavaria being above a wedding of convenience. :catgirl:[/font][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Tahoma"]And as soon as her nostrils twitch to the scent of fresh yummy power, she'll be all over it like a cheap suit. I mean she's like Hillary Clinton but with a bit more sex appeal and no husband.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I eat waffles with applesauce. Just smear it on and slap it between two waffles then eat it like a sammich! It's quite good but sometimes I add cinnamon sugar because I'm typically using unsweetened applesauce, which can be quite bitter. I like them because they're terribly cheap and when you're a STARVING college student like me, your mantra becomes C.F.T.B. Which stands of course for 'Cheap food tastes better.'[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Nah, I've travelled within the past six months, but I wasn't sure if they'd decided to add even MORE restrictions. Besides the obvious 'for your protection' ones. That and I think the backscatter is offensive because it gives a VERY accurate reading of how people look without clothes, even if it's all one color. Like white. My professor is afraid that perverts will want to use it to get a good look at her daughter when she goes through security. Which is strange because there are perverts everywhere! Dont' think that they can't just undress her with the power of imagination. About cell phones though; I refuse to believe something I bought at Radio Shack is capable of bringing down some of the best developed pieces of technology in use today.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]So I'm taking a journey across America via Southwest airlines and I realized according to the schedules that I'll be spending more time waiting for my next plane than I will actually sitting in one. Assuming of course that it doesn't sit on the runway for six hours waiting for something to happen or fall off, or catch on fire. In essence, I'll be wasting away in Phoenix, Arizona for oh...two hours? And then three days hence on my return flight, roughly four hours in Nashville, Tennessee. And all this fun times just to visit some of my good friends in Huntingdon, PA. If anyone lives in any of the following areas, or near enough, do send me a message. But all of this has me thinking. Will I get to be patted down by some annoying and jaded airline security agent? Will my body piercings set off various metal detectors? And of course there's the question of if they'll paw through the suspiciously lurid looking DVDs in my luggage. And wonder if my laptop is really in fact the detonation device for a bomb in my suitcase or purse. But seriously, I suppose this is the price w pay to make sure there isn't a mid flight explosion over the heartland of America. Not that I really care, provided I make it alive in one piece. Do you think they're taking the threat of terrorism too seriously these days? Or are they not doing enough? I read an article about backscatter X-ray machines that give a full, to the bare skin, image of a person and what they have on their bodies. Is that too invasive? The wikipedia page has more on the subject. Some think it's a total invasion of your privacy, but having your bag ripped apart and your liquids held up to the light doesn't appear to be much better. Thoughts? [/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Aaryanna_Mom']In fact, I'm not too interested in any of the candidates really, maybe I'm becoming jaded, but all of them seem to have too many problems. It's how it's always been I'm sure, but for some reason, this election just seems to embody that stupidity even more than usual.[/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Well Romney's a liar. Clinton's a liar. Obama hasn't been around long enough for us to really know if he's a liar. But there's a word here that describes all of them and is pretty much synonymous with liar. I believe it's 'politician'? Anyway, I agree that this is a rather lackluster election. It's actually quite distressing because this'll be the second time I can vote in the general election and I'd like for it to count for something but alas. It's going to be another time of rolling die or flipping a coin. If only I could vote for Cthulu, because an Elder God would just destroy every enemy he had. And then devour Congress AND House and not even get a stomach ache.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Oh what an interest election, it's like the one we have now in the Primaries. I wonder which candidate screams about CHANGE! the most and which one has an annoying spouse that likes to mouth off all the time and sabotage things. But seriously. I can't imagine Lector Moebius having the total authority to punish Catharine for her competence. If he thinks everything is bad now, my goodness. What will he ever do when she's not there to discourage the children from setting his robes on fire.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Remember kiddies, a vote for Primas is a vote for Bavaria! Show your loyalties to the Coalition and vote for someone other than that Baldyhead.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[i][COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]The bar was full of people, drinking, laughing, nudging each other with good cheer and general humor. The game played on the TV over the counter, and I struggled to keep myself under control. Nearby my master sat with smile on his face, as if he knew what this unnatural calm was costing me. I?d been dragged from my own plane to the world people liked to think was the real one. Here I was simply Raiha again, but a little bit more than that. She Who Consumes was me as well. In my mind the snapping and raging was barely contained. But I?d been taken here to kill. Summoned by the spirit of Crystia. Now long gone in a terrible night much like this one. Raped and killed in a dark alley not ten feet from where I was sitting now, hunched up in a corner table, nursing my drink. And the alcohol didn?t make me sleepy. It made me angry. I could see them all sitting pretty, laughing it up while they were all guilty. She screamed and sobbed and cried for help, and when nobody had come, she?d fought with her teeth. ?Gentlemen? Andrew, Pete, James, Allamorph. None of them had helped her. Gavin, a man I?d once loved when I was human, stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. He hadn?t lifted a finger, but he?d seen so much suffering over the years, it?d almost make me sad to kill him too. Conrad, Justin, Prem, Kenneth...all of them would die. Die by my hands.[/i] ?Bastards...every one of you will pay.? [i]It was the death of an innocent that had really called me here. Darren, my handler, my gentle jailor, waited for the right moment, when everyone was there. And through the door came the last two. And in his eyes, a flash of unnatural light glowed and burned, mirrored in mine. He turned in an instant, moving hands that weren?t really there, and knocked over his glass. The container sailed through the air, and in slow motion, I watched it hit the concrete floor and shatter into a thousand pieces. The signal given, I jerked up and laughed hysterically, a quick sob that hung in the air. I ripped off my dress in a burst of energy, revealing the knives in my spine sheath, the ones down my arms, and the two on my hips. The first two whistled through the air and pulled away Conrad and Prem?s lives before they could even blink. Their heads, pierced through and through, jerked back and slammed against the nearest wall, the blood making jagged splatters against the smooth surface.[/i] ?Fucking shit! Who the fuck!?? [i]Boss Andrew had stood and knocked up his table, his cronies surrounding him, opening fire on me, missing and inadvertently hitting some of their own. I leapt into the air, vertically, defying the gravity that meant very little to me, and slammed down on Justin, the next knife lodged deep into his throat, before I yanked it out and turned in almost the same motion, whirling one leg around the table quickly to slice it across Kenneth?s face. Two more quick slashes, and blood sprayed in all directions from his ruined eyes. With a swift chortle of berserker?s laughter, I threw myself forward onto Pete, who had lifted his gun and began to empty the clip into me. The bullets ripped through my flesh, but I couldn?t feel them. No pain, no nothing. I wasn?t really there to be shot anyway. With one hand I disarmed him and slammed down his gun so hard it cracked the concrete. He looked down at it, then back up at me, an expression dawning on his face.[/i] ?You- ...you..-? ?Were sent by Crystia. You scabrous dogs!? [i]With that I swung my face forward and jerked his shirt wide open at the throat, my teeth sinking into the exposed flesh, tearing through tendon and meat alike. The taste fresh in my mouth, I threw down his useless body and drew the last two knives I had on me. James raised up one hand, but it went through that, and into his chest, his body twitching uselessly as it sank to the floor next to Andrew. Allamorph yelled out something incomprehensible and threw a chair at me. Kicking up one leg, I knocked it aside uselessly and smirked at him. Snatching up an abandoned mug from a nearby table I threw it horizontally away from my body, to smash into Gavin?s face. The fool had stood up one second too long, to see what had happened. And it crushed his head, and knocked him down, so he lay in the ruins of what had once belonged to him. All that was left was the man who had let this killing happen. Who had condoned it, planned it, yearned for it. And he would pay the price that was being demanded, regardless of the cost to anyone else. It didn?t even matter now. [/i] ?Did you think...there would be no consequences for this?! Did you think you could just go on forever without a thought for the dead that have gone before you?? [i]His eyes widened with terror, and I saw nothing but red. My last human thought was how splendid a revenge I had wrought for the one girl I?d cared for when I?d been real. And as my fingers sank into the chest of her murderer, my laugh turned into a howl. The sound of the Hellhound rising again, crackling tension in the air. The smell of blood on fur, and the gleam of manic eyes in the dark of a burned out, empty bar. No life flickered there. She Who Consumes flicked her tail once across her body, and then stepped up onto nothing and disappeared.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[RIGHT][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/gustave-avatar.gif[/IMG][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/maceyellen-chronicle.jpg[/IMG][/RIGHT] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]With infinite tenderness, Gustave washed the wounds Lazarus had dealt Macey, the warm water rushing over them, turning the basin a faint pink color. Four heavy scratches scored her left arm, starting at her shoulder, and going down to her wrist. Fortunately they weren't deep enough to warrant stitches or special doses of poison. Gently, he began to brush a cleansing agent on them, and Macey winced, grasping the folds of her dress with her right hand.[/i] "I'm so sorry about this. He's normally a very gentle beast." [i]Macey spoke through gritted teeth, a faint smile on her face even for it.[/i] "When an animal is in pain, it does all sorts of things that aren't a reflection of its true nature. It's not your fault. You're not Hugo Black." "Damn that son of a bitch! Poisoning my Chimaeras. What's next?" "I'd say almost anything as far as that animal's concerned." [i]Gustave sighed and gently bandaged her cuts with strips of linen, then helped her stand. It'd been roughly a hour since the first dose, and Lazarus should've been already responding. Keeping a safe distance, the two walked down to the stables to find Lazarus alert and looking much better already, drinking from his trough. At their approach, he chirruped and trotted over, head held high, strutting really. He plumed his tail feathers and leaned down to nuzzle against Gustave's outstretched hand. Then almost in the same movement, he made a light burbling sound and virtually snuggled against Macey's right side, his eyes closing as she scratched his flanks for him.[/i] "He's looking so much better. Nice to see him back to his old self." "Yes...I was running out of arms to hold up in sacrifice." [i]With a laugh he turned and found that his grooms had already saddled up Lucy, the reins held loosely in his hands as she stood and shook her head every now and then. The bright gold of her plumage standing out sharply against the darker green of Macey's dress, with a plumed mane and long eyelashes sweeping across her face... ...simply a glorious sight to behold. Lucy cooed and gave Macey a gentle nudge, while Gustave gave her a boost up into the saddle. Holding onto his waist, blushing slightly at the sheer closeness, he clicked his tongue and Lucy obligingly set off at a very smooth pace, headed for the lake. Hours passed, the two enjoying the company, the adventure, the beauty of their surroundings. Lucy enjoyed the freedom as well, calling out to the birds that flew overhead with a sweet musical cry. And as she slowly completed her run, the sun was setting, throwing flashes of colors across the lake. The grooms took the reins as Gustave slipped down, catching Macey around the waist to ease the drop. Taking her arm, the two entered the house, and sat down on the verandah to watch the sun setting, while the servants laid out a light tea while supper was being set. Macey balanced a teacup lightly between her fingers and smiled across the rim at Gustave.[/i] "I've had such a wonderful time today. Better than I've had in months." "I can imagine there wasn't too much fun to be had, with everything that's been happening in Czenoble lately." "Yes, it's very sad. I'm not sure what I'll do. Fauntleroy is talking about selling Magitech, and Eva's shaken by the goings on in the city, and Beatrise is...well...Beatrise." "What's it like having Lady Bavaria in Rosengard? I've heard so many...[i]different[/i] things about her." "It's like living with a large monster poorly disguised as your best friend. And you're not sure if she's going to make polite conversation or kill you and cannibalize your body." [i]The two shared a light chuckle, and turned to savor the meal that had been set up while they chatted. Just as the sorbet was being served, an express courier arrived with a message. For Macey, with no return name, and no markings on it besides her own. She slit it open with a hairpin, and read the letter, her eyes glancing down to the bottom to realize that it hadn't been signed either. As soon as she saw the words, "I regret to inform you," she skipped ahead and saw the real crux of the note. Her hands began to shake and she felt a sudden coldness grip her chest. With a gasp and a cry, she flung the anonymous letter down across the table, nearly knocking over her glass of water as she stood without realizing it. She had time to let out one strangled choking sob and then the world spun around her and everything went black.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[i][COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]They were moving from house to house, under constant fire. Every time they secured one, another broke out in another round of fighting, the sound of AK-47s peppering the air, a constant barrage. It never stopped. The sounds never stopped. Neil paused at the next house, his squad around him, everyone blowing hard. Sand was everywhere, in every crack in their gear, filling up their boots, and jamming their rifles. One of his men staggered slightly, trying to cover it up, and his commander jerked a salt tab from his shoulder pocket and virtually shoved it in his mouth.[/i] ?Eat it before you drop dead.? [i]It was the heat. The fucking heat. They cloying, choking, humid heat that never let up, and it was the middle of the night for Chrissake. Fucking Saddam. Building that goddamn reservoir right there. It attracted the mosquitoes the size of your hand, and in the day, spiders the size of your face came out to play. Closest thing to hell they could get to. A marine stood by the window, the frightened family huddled in the back room, unarmed, and unharmed. As long as you assumed being scared shitless wasn?t harming them. With a slow hand, he drew back the curtain just an inch, and looked up as far as he could. Orange tracers lit up the night sky. Brilliant hues of red and yellow, fiery against a backdrop of inky blackness. Not that the beauty meant anything to him. He turned, his voice low compared to the sounds swirling around them.[/i] ?I think we?re fucked.? [i]A terrific sound, first the dull whine, that grew louder and shriller with the Doppler effect. The bombs had fallen, there goes the neighborhood. The sounds of screaming became annoying, when Neil turned and saw the family sobbing, and one boy pointing a finger due east, when Neil turned and saw it through the back door. The mosque had been hit; not that it?d done anyone good. It had been empty for hours. The sounds of gunfire grew louder, closer, and they made a break for it. Running, not even trying to return fire, but it was no good. One of the Marines went down, his head simply gone. Just as they were reaching a wall, Neil was knocked down by one of his own men, screaming, his arms outstretched.[/i] ?Grenade!? [i]And the explosion rocked them off their feet, shrapnel bouncing around, riddling his man full of holes. One piece lodged in his forehead, and his eyes tilted backwards in death. Whoever said war was glorious-. Neil rolled him down over the cracked tiles that had once made up the mosque?s floor and crouched down under the cover. He would?ve reloaded his M16, but the ammunition had already been spent. He checked his belt. M67s used up from earlier. And the rest of his team wasn?t in much better shape.[/i] ?Ah shit.? ?Commander!? [i]Neil turned, his SOG out before he had completely moved around. One of the enemy was already there, the muzzle of his AK-47 covering his beaten, bleeding team. Half a dozen had non fatal gunshot wounds, others were picking shrapnel out of their arms and legs. And the poor bastard ran for them, forgetting to check behind, when Neil grabbed him by the face and jerked his knife across his throat. The serrated edges caught the skin of his neck, and the blood spurted hot and warm across his hands and arms, the artery pumping out his blood in a quick reflexive gesture. And he fell, face forward into the ground. When one of the men tipped him over, the terrible enemy- he couldn?t have been older than 16. But he could hold a gun, and he was trying to kill them. The beginnings of a cliché formed on Neil?s tongue, but he spat out the grit in his mouth instead. The sounds grew closer. And then they were surrounded. Nobody dropped to their knees, nobody threw up their arms, they just stayed still. Unmoving. Nobody played dead either. They had plenty of those anyway. As the men the media would doubtless refer to as ?Freedom Fighters? closed in, several thoughts flashed through Neil?s head. The ending scene of Braveheart. Gladiator. And he nearly shook his head, but by then it didn?t even matter anymore. A machete flashed, and one of his men?s heads rolled down, separated neatly from his shoulders. Neil didn?t twitch, didn?t make a sound, he looked up into death?s face instead and smirked with the same arrogant attitude that had driven him out here.[/i] "Well fuck." [i]And it?d come down to this. Forced onto his knees in a destroyed mosque, empty gun, knife forced from his hand, and his team dead or dying all around him. Blood splattered over his cheeks, and the scent of gunpowder hot and sharp in his nose. His last conscious thought, was that at least there wouldn?t be any drawn out torture beforehand. Just a sharp thrust into his neck, and then a sweep of the hand, and his body flopped forward uselessly, the head kicked out of the way as the death squad marched on. [b]Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. [/i][/b][/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Shy'][size=1]I doubt anyone would hear about Vincent's death until the next day, or maybe later in the evening. Gaul Rosier isn't exactly going to want to publicize the fact that one of his highest ranking officers was just killed.[/size][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]So late in the evening, just as the sorbet is being served. Oh dear how deliciously tragic and ironic! *swoon*[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Ah, first to vote I see. Clearly someone totally bald can't be a ruler so naturally it has to go to the person with the most hair. We all know skinheads make unfit rulers... *cough* So I had an idea in the way of exposition. James. Other people? Got your attention? Oh whatever. Macey getting two notes almost simultaneously. Vincen'ts death and Alecia's pregnancy. Virtually all at once. I think it'd be nice and overly symbolic don't you? But I'm wondering how soon she'd find out, that and if the same people would tell her about Audrey's imprisonment, because she'd feel almost obligated to rescue her or at least speak for her. Maybe she and Gustave can stage a prison break! HAH![/FONT][/COLOR]

[quote name='Andrew'][size=1]How about you get something written which shows Revy and Spike (of Cowboy Bebop) working together to rake up a few kills. Since I don't really have anyone in mind to kill, why don't you have them kill everyone who has posted in this thread so far (with myself as the exception)? Really don't wanna see myself dead right now. ¬_¬[/size][/QUOTE] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Darling darling darling, "Fellow OB members." Not fictional characters. Then this would just be another pointless fanfic.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I wrote my crush a little Valentine's note already.... .....but I haven't sent it off yet and I kept it casual because goodness knows the worst way to get a guy is to scare him off first. I also have others for my friends I'm visiting the week after. They're Hello Kitty themed, so theoretically nobody will like them but the females. But since they come with sparkly sugar infested candy, the guys might give in and like them too. Who knows?[/FONT][/COLOR]

[RIGHT][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/maceyellen-chronicle.jpg[/IMG][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/gustave-avatar.gif[/IMG][/RIGHT] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]Gustave took Macey's arms and led her down to the stables, the ostlers leading the horses down as well. Once they entered the stables, the sounds of an animal in pain reached their ears. Lazarus was shrieking in pain, the sounds of his claws scrabbling against the stable walls. The Anovan vet was standing a safe distance away, out of reach of the enormous claws, his medical bag at his side. Macey removed her hat and handed it to one of the nearby servants, stripping off her riding jacket as well until her bare arms showed. The vet turned to her and spoke with a very thick accent Macey struggled to grasp.[/i] "He's been like this since last night, didn't start acting funny when we got 'ome or anything." "Well let's see what we can see. Please prepare me a syringe." [i]At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, Lazarus turned his sleek head and fixed one of his enormous purple eyes on Macey. She stared steadily back, taking the stethoscope the vet handed her almost absentmindedly, not breaking the eye contact. The Chimaera gurgled once, and lay still, if only for a moment. Moving as if in a trance, Macey knelt next to him and listened to his heart race, a steady hiss and thump of sound that was altogether too fast, even for a beast such as Lazarus. Her brow furrowing slowly, she drew back, and gestured to the vet for the needle. With a quick, steady movement of her wrist, she drew blood from the Chimaera's flank, and danced back out of reach before he could strike her. [/i] "You made that look almost easy." "I'm sure he'll get me back for it eventually." [i]With a wry chuckle, she and the vet set up a test kit, the potions spread out in their tubes. Carefully, she divided up the bright crimson blood between the tubes, and added the right proportions of liquids. Almost immediately, they turned a sickly green color, giving off an oder that made Macey feel queasy. She shook one of the tubes, held it up against the sun and squinted for a moment. Then she heaved a disdainful sigh and set it back down. When she spoke her voice was bitter.[/i] "I should've known. Lazarus has been poisoned." "Poisoned?! You don't think Hugo Black-" "He probably modified one of his riding whips to deliver a burst of poison undetected. And in the insanity of the races, nobody would notice. But this is very low grade." "So it's curable then?" "Just needs one all purpose antidote. A couple doses and he should be back to normal. I'd just avoid having him and Hugo Black on the same track ever again." [i]The vet mixed up the purgative carefully, under Gustave and Macey's watchful eyes. Then he handed the flask to Macey, who turned back to Lazarus. As if he sensed unpleasantness descending on him, he let out a furious screech and backed up into the corner of his stall. Darting forward, Macey put Lazarus in a quick arm lock, not that she had the strength to sustain it, but then again it was only for a few seconds. One light movement, and she released him, the Chimaera spluttering and heaving at the bitter taste. Macey leapt back, but even as she did, Lazarus struck out with his claws and struck her a glancing blow across the left arm.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[RIGHT][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/maceyellen-chronicle.jpg[/IMG][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/marieevangeline-chronicle.jpg[/IMG][IMG]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/almagest/gustave-avatar.gif[/IMG][/RIGHT] [COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]Macey, sitting in front of her vanity table, slowly began to remove her jewelry and hairpins. No more than three feet away, Eva sat, doing much of the same. Both were intensely tired, worn out by the day's excitements and drama. At her door stood one of Gustave's own body guards, sent home with her as a courtesy. More than that, Macey didn't care to consider. Better to underestimate him than to overestimate and be disappointed later. Laying down her necklace, she paused to consider the vase one of her servants had used to hold the remaining roses.[/i] "Goodness this was almost too much fun." "Yes, maybe next time they can just explode the entire track and see how the jockey's handle that." [i]Eva leaned back with a vacant sigh, letting her thoroughly un-tired nurse button up her nightgown. Macey stood and did the same, both going to bed with very little words spoken between them. And as soon as she was between her comfortable sheets, curled up with her pillows for company, she began to dream. Of Gustave, the Chimaeras racing down the track, and the way he'd said her name and kissed her hand. When morning came, Macey found herself quite alone. Eva was either studying alone in her room, or gone down for breakfast by herself. Mell had laid out the tea service for whenever her mistress awoke, and next to it was a folded newspaper detailing the strange events of the night previous. Slipping out of bed, Macey went over and picked it up, the headlines screaming at her.[/i] "Terrible Accident at Chimaera Cup! Dozens wounded!" [i]Raising one eyebrow, she set it back down, with a sour thought for the paper's so called 'accident.' Several cups of tea later, she'd decided to get started with the day and stop feeling self righteous indignation. She dressed herself in a deep green riding skirt this time around. The evening prior, Gustave had invited her to visit him at his summer home when the guard returned home, and she had every intention of doing so. Fastening her hat firmly to her hair with a long gold pin, she turned and opened her front door to fin the body guard still in attendance. He gave her a courtly bow.[/i] "Are you ready to visit Master Gustave now M'lady?" "Absolutely. Would you like to ride with me?" "I'd like nothing better." [i]Servants bowed to Macey along the way, and she returned their honorifics with smiles and nods of her head, as she made her way to the stables. Once there, one of the ostler's holding the bridle of her white gelding, another saddling up a blood bay for the bodyguard. With the aid of the mounting block, Macey pulled herself into the side saddle, arranging her skirts for modesty's sake. Once suitably secured, she gave her beast a light touch across the flanks and he set off at a brisk trot, the bodyguard close behind. Once they'd cleared Rosengard's gates, Macey kicked the gelding and he leapt forward into a steady canter. Picking up speed with his smooth gait, the two traveled down towards the forests that made up the southern part of Mount Grail, the roads nearly abandoned except for the occasional carriage. And soon enough the two found themselves loping across the long causeway that marked the beginning of Gustave's summer estate. The road curved gently around the lakeside, the house reflected in its mirror stillness, the trees sighing and swaying in the breeze. Macey was just reflecting on how picturesque it all was, when the owner of the whole property came out with a salute and a warm smile.[/i] "Macey! So glad you could come." "I'd never refuse such a sweet request. Especially from such a gentleman." "Now now, don't flatter me to death Macey-" [i]With a laugh, he stepped forward and held her horse's bridle as she slipped down from the saddle into a perfect curtsy.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][i]The ladies pursed full lips, tilting their heads in query. Their ship, "The Screaming Mermaid," sailed blithely onward, oblivious to the death and destruction it's mistresses rained down upon its decks. Captain Raiha held up their next victim and tilted his face to one side, the manacles around his wrists and ankles clinking wetly, dully, in his own blood. First Mate Beth drew her cutlass and held it straight out, pointed towards the man's heart, and narrowed one of her eyes.[/i] "Looks like a proper little bint. I says we kills 'im off good and proper." [i]Crystia, navigator extraordinaire, looked up from the maps she'd spread out on the counter and purred once, deep in her throat, tossing a lock of her hair from her eyes. Her boots thumped grandly as she stood, the creak of her leather jerkin contrasting with the cheerful jingle of bangles at her wrists. She leaned on the ship's rail, twirling a piece of rope in her fingers absentmindedly.[/i] "Just lock him up. I'm sure we can have more sport with him later. 'Sides, I likes the look in his eyes." [i]She smiled and leaned forward, looking into the bright blazing blue eyes of their prisoner. His dirty blonde hair glinted in the harsh noontime sun, and she smiled, crossing her arms over her ample chest with a decidedly causal gesture. Her Captain smirked and signaled for the crewmen to drag out the next victim, a man found guilty of Kliché most horrific. Without a word, she bodily dragged him over to the plank, the muscles of her legs standing out against her breeches, the loose white shirt rippling in the trade winds. Beth sang out a few sign song words about commuting the body to the deep, albeit a still living one, and shoved him right off the side. There was a yelp and a terrific crash, and the next victim was dragged up. This one had abnormally long hair, and pasty white skin. Beth leaned forward with a chortle and Crystia did as well.[/i] "Oh this one hasn't seen the sun in nary a year. I say we let him soak it up good and proper." "Lash 'im to the mast and let the seagulls peck him to death." "Ah 'ow tragic." [i]At the First Mate's word, the next victim was pulled up to the mast, in full view of the harsh glare of the sun, and stripped of his shirt. There he would burn and blister and crack in the sun, and be chilled in the deep of the night, until he screamed for his death, or went mad with sunstroke. Either was perfectly acceptable to the cruel mistresses of the Screaming Mermaid. After all, it could hardly be called that if there wasn't a proper amount of screaming involved. And that brought the ladies such joy. Warmed the cockles of their cold and sinister hearts.[/i] "Next we got's a man callin' himself BK." "Wonder wot it stands for?" "Big Kahuna?" "Big-" [i]First Mate Beth nudged Crystia before she could say what she was going to say and both fell about chortling and guffawing in a decidedly un-lady like way. But eventually they simmered down and settled back to their duties while the pirate ship carried on, oblivious to the drowning, the maiming, the burning, the screeching. And all was well, and very well. The Captain hummed a ditty to herself and Crystia consulted her charts with great attention to details. And First Mate Beth observed their slowly cooking prisoner with some asperity, taking a pull from her bottle of rum when it suited her. Woe betide those who fall before the Screaming Mermaid and her bloodthirsty crew.[/i][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]Oh good god. This is the best the nation could do. Lordy. I honestly have no idea who to pick. I mean if you held a very large gun to my head and said CHOOSE! I'd probably end up voting for Obama, just because the day I vote for Hillary is the day I curl my toes up to Heaven and breath my last breath. I think McCain is world's worst choice, Huckabee is the nominee for the disgruntled religious left, and Romney's about as charismatic as my big left toe. Aside from the fact that this country hasn't elected a Senator since President Kennedy... I just can't stand it. But remember. Unless you vote, you can NOT complain.[/FONT][/COLOR]