DeadSeraphim

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]If Shy's planning anything, I've yet to be informed, so it must be a mistake on his part.[/font][/color][/size]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][quote name='Sandy]Oh, [B]Dead Seraphim[/B'], I love you too!

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][CENTER][B][SIZE=1]Estate[/SIZE][/B][/CENTER] Rural Australia. Tall yellowed grass covers the landscape in every direction, and a lone female magpie flies in lazy circles around it's nest. It's mate is probably out finding food for the chicks the pair had created. Normally the chicks would be squawking loudly, craving attention, needing it, as young birds are wont to do. Today, however, they are silent. The whole landscape is. A lone woman stands beneath a tall ghost gum, dressed in black. She wears a veil, her eyes are hidden. Long dark lines frame her face, remnants of mascara-tainted tears. Her body shakes intermittently. She's sobbing. Sobbing hard. Why? Why cry? The answer is obvious. She stands before a statue. It's not especially impressive. The sculptor's could've done a better job. It's about 6 feet tall, not including the pedestal. Made of granite. Sturdy. It would break down in rain though. Lucky it was placed in the desert. It's of a man, built like a rock, stern, aggressive. Buzzcut haircut, large chest. A pistol held in each hand - fitting. He'd never been without a pistol. Or two. The pedestal is of different construction. It's metallic, titanium, the woman was told. It'd cost her a lot. It was worth it though. On the front of it was a plaque, made of bronze. She'd have chosen gold, but it was too expensive. The pedestal and statue had been too much as it is. Especially considering the quality of the statue. She'd have to ask for a refund. On the plaque, written in handsome serif font, are inscribed the words which make her cry so. They are so few, but so meaningful. Heavy with meaning. 'John Silver - The Father I Never Knew' She reads the words again. A heavy sob wracks her body. She wished she'd had some time to meet him. To know him. But she'd never had a chance. It wasn't of her making though, no. It was his. He worked for an international security agency. Very secretive. She'd asked for him many times, but she'd never been allowed to talk to him. She had to know his codename to talk to him. She hadn't known. She didn't even know he was dead until a month ago. A letter had arrived, black, with no return address. It simply said, 'The Legionnaires'. That was the security agency. An odd name. She'd been hesitant to open it. It was unmarked, nothing revealed it's purpose. But open it she did. Reading the letter inside had been painful. So she did it again. And again. And again. Until the letter fell from her shaking hands. It had been short, simple. [I]"Gloria Silver, We regret to inform you your father, John Silver, has died whilst acting on behalf of our agency in South Africa. We extend our condolences to your family. We have enclosed the last photo of your father ever taken, and a cheque for $100 000 US to pay for funeral arrangements. We are sorry for your loss. The Legionnaires"[/I] That was it. Nothing more. It didn't even specify if she'd see his body. She assumed no. She assumed rightly. So she used the funds to build the memorial statue before her, almost identical to the photo she'd been sent. It wasn't smiling. It was stern, almost angry. She wished she knew why. But she didn't. She would never know. Her mother had told her about the man when she was young. Told her about an unwise one night stand in which all she'd been left was a business card and a child. He'd worked for the military then, the Australian Army. He never returned to Singapore. Her mother and her had immigrated to Australia to find him. Gloria was 15 at the time. When they'd arrived he was already gone. The Army said he worked for The Legionnaires now. They were given a phone number and nothing more. Gloria was asked to return in two years time, however, to prove kinship. They needed a place to send his army pension, they said. She submitted to the testing. They proved positive. Her mother had been collecting the pension for years. What she would do now it was stopped, Gloria did not know. The magpie chicks spot their returning father, and start chirping. Startled out of her revery, Gloria blinks. Looking around for her husband she sees him standing a distance away, respecting her quiet moment. He sees she is done, and walks over. A gentle loving embrace is shared. "I'd like to go home now," she says quietly. Her husband nods and began to lead her gently back to their hire car, rubbing her shoulders. They climb in wordlessly, and drive slowly away from the large property. John Silver's property. Now their property. It had been the only item in his will, the only acknowledgement Gloria ever received from the man. It had an odd name. More like a real name than a property name. It was called "Unhate".[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][QUOTE=Sandy]So Melinoë's on a break for now... I think that's only a positive thing, with my OB Survivor going on and all. ;) But [B]Shy[/B], didn't you say you'd reveal the reasons why the eight of us were chosen to the Body Bags after it would end? I for one would like to know what put me at risk, so I know how to improve my future output.[/QUOTE] You were chosen because Team Leaders got to elect one person from their team to die, and one person from their team that wouldn't die for Body bags. I had no reasoning behind choosing you, I just wanted to make you sweat. Kiss kiss.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]The man, now more beast than human, thundered through the golden halls, his heavy steps creating impact marks where they fell. He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't know what he was, he just knew.... he needed to kill these intruders. For Aton. His lord. He was nothing without his lord. As he rounded a corner he noticed a tiny blinking device and, somehow, recognized it as distinctly bad. It would... it would cause destruction. Reaching low as he ran, he picked up the device and ran on, sensing himself growing closer and closer to his targets... no, not targets. His prey. A throaty roar escaped his lips as he noticed and scooped up another of the devices. Placing these destructive things would earn them a painful death indeed. Bursting into a golden passageway he saw his prey gather, their weapons and abilities all charged or pointed at him. Snarling he considered them like a lion might his prey, pacing slowly forward, fists clenched. ~~~ "Okay everyone, remember, this [b]isn't[/b] Unhate anymore," Kaida instructed. "Unhate is dead. This is just a monster pretending to be Unhate. He's lost to us now." The group nodded in affirmation, watching the once-proud man slowly edge toward them, it's fists glowing yellow with power. It seemed to pause and the group flinched, but it didn't appear to be making any move to attack. Then, suddenly, it lunged forward, showing no signs of the man they all once knew. "Fire!" Kaida roared and the sound of weapons and powers collectively exploding outward echoed around the tunnel. They hit Unhate hard in the chest and he went flying backward, landing with a sick crunch on his back, but not staying there for long. With preternatual speed he burst to his feet again and dove at them, showing no sign of the tact he once knew, and yet again got slammed backward. The man's chest was gaping in places and smoking. Slowly it raised to it's feet again. ~~~ Unhate slowly got to his feet, wincing in pain. What was happening? Last he'd remembered, he'd been in the underground chamber and... Looking at his arm he saw blood. Not his, it wasn't thick enough. His chest gaped and bled openly, and before him his entire team stood with their weapons at the ready, prepared to destroy him. A tear escaped his eye. "Oh God..." he whispered. "What have I become?" The question was unnecessary though. He already knew what he had become. And the slow, dumbing haze sweeping over his brain, filling him with rage, confirmed it doubly. He was just a monster of this temple now. And he'd killed one of his own. Despite his revulsion though, he couldn't fight off the fog in his mind forever. He just couldn't. And if he couldn't be who he once was he'd have to die... take the temple out with him. "DON'T SHOOT!" he roared, intending to make as much of these final moments of clarity as he could. "I'm me! Unhate! For now." He winced as he bled and clutched his stomach. Only then did he realise he was holding timed mines in his hands. Perfect. "Unhate?" Kaida asked, almost relieved. "You're okay again?" The group broke into a run to aid their fellow Legionnaire but Unhate held up his hand. "No... no don't come any closer." His words were pained. "This is only temporary. I'll be myself again soon.... the beast... the monstrosity." He struggled to think. The fog was becoming thicker. Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel it, he held out the mines. "Do you have any more of these?" Kaida frowned. "Dozens... but why? What are you going to do?" Unhate laughed, then coughed painfully. "Isn't it obvious? I'm going to take this place out with me." Kaida was aghast. "No! We can fix you!" Unhate allowed his mind to be filled with the fog for a moment and looked up at the naive team leader, his eyes glowing gold. "Nothing can save me now," he growled, his voice tainted with the dark power. Already he could feel strength returning, despite his wounds.. "Now... just give me the mines." Noone moved, shocked by this caricature of the man they once knew. "NOW." His voice shook the temple, demonstrating his true, as yet untapped, power. Kaida went pale as she reached into her belt and threw the remaining mines at Unhate, who caught them easily. Attaching them to his stony body, the man stood, and pointed behind the group. "Flee." he said simply in the power-tainted voice, before tearing back the way he'd came. ~~~ His mind was almost all gone now, and he could barely remember his own name. But he had enough sense to know his final purpose, that, if he could hold off the fog for long enough, he could do it. He could finish this sorry tale the way it was intended. As he burst into the chamber in which the old woman had granted him this curse, he probed the temple with his new powers and felt that they were almost out. Good. It'd give him just enough time to do what he intended. He laughed as vague thoughts of the greater good drifted through his cloudy mind. Yes, this was definitely in the greater good. It was the only good his mind registered in these last few fateful moments He sat in the old woman's golden throne, crushing her feeble corpse, and groaned as his body surged with power. At once, he knew his plan would be successful - the mines on him, attached to him, had became super-charged. More than powerful to destroy this whole place. Once again he probed with his mind for them and found his temple empty, except for the abominations of his predecessors creating. A contentment passed over him as he hit the detonate button on one of the timed mines, and he breathed deep of the stale air of the temple. 5... thoughts of growing up flooded his mind... 4... the army... recruiting 3... bosnia... overseas conflicts 2... the legionnaires... 1... the original gold team mission 0... He opened his eyes and gave into the sensation of his body, and the temple exploding around him. And laughed.[/font][/size][/color]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]"There's nothing like a depressant to cure depression!" Lenny, The Simpsons[/font][/color][/size]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]"Him!" The old woman's voice echoed throughout the chamber and Unhate stepped back unsteadily, his eyes narrowed. "What is she talking about, Melinoe?" he whispered tersely. His knuckles were white as he squeezed his pistol nervously. "She.. I think she wants you to take her place." Unhate's eye twitched. "W-what?" the stone skinned man gasped. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably as his mind played over the fate that would await him if Melinoe was correct. For the first time in decades, staring at his possible fate in this decrepit corpse, he exhibited fear. "The half-breed is right." The old woman spoke again. "You are to take my place. Though... in a different capacity I think. A capacity that is for our God to decide. " Unhate snarled and steadied his shaking hands, suddenly angered by the old woman's brazenness in thinking he would willingly submit. Slowly he raised two pistols, trained on the woman before him. "He's no God of mine!" Unhate roared, pulling the triggers. The bullets exploded out the end in a flash of heat and quickly lodged themselves deep within the woman, eliciting a screech of pain. Again Unhate fired, sending lead through the withered frame. The crack and shatter of bones was, to his ears, disturbingly audible. Beside him, Vernacular was shaking and slightly green. He went to fire again but Melinoe's hand on his arm stopped him. "She's gone..." she said quietly, her voice wary. "I felt her essence disappear before you even fired." Unhate raised an eyebrow. His guns stayed horizontal and smoking. "What do you mean before I fir--" But he never got to finish his sentence. A great pain had shot through his body, as if his very heart was being torn out through his throat. His guns fell from his grip as Vernacular and Melinoe watched him slowly levitate, his back arch in pain. "What is thiiiiis?" Unhate shouted, a blast of light appearing out his mouth as he spoke. His eyes were shining yellow, his brown-stone skin was taking on a reflective, gold sheen. Transforming into something too familiar. "I don't think you had a choice in the matter of this temple, somehow," Melinoe whispered quietly, taking Vernacular by the shoulders. "I think whatever this God is has taken you without your consent or not..." Unhate painstakingly turned his head to look at the demoness. His vision was doubling, he was seeing her as both a horrid monster and Melinoe. The same with Vernacular. "God..." he whispered as only the monsters consolidated in his vision. The temple's God was taking him. Changing his perception. It... would make him kill these two. He knew it. "RUN!" he roared. "RUN FROM ME AND THIS PLACE, BEFORE I'M FORCED TO KILL YOU." The women seemed uncertain. "NOW!" His voice was distorted, filled with some omnipotent force. And so the women ran from the room, and ran until they came to a upward stairway they'd somehow missed on the way in. Barrelling up it they heard a mighty roar as Unhate transformed below them, almost not noticing when they burst into a new room. In the next room were the sounds of battle, in the centre of this a large leviathan-like creature swam in a murky pool. They'd found their team. And by the sounds of the large boots thundering behind them, Unhate was going to quickly find them.[/font][/color][/size]

[QUOTE=Retribution][size=1]Everyone knows that women are equally capable of holding the position of Presidency. Your gender really doesn't determine your leadership capabilities. As for whether the country is open-minded enough to have one, I'm going to say definitely not. If Hillary Clinton (or any other woman) were to run in the coming election, I think she'd be buried, yes, simply because she is a woman. True, people should vote for who they think is more capable for the position, and they do just that -- many think that women simply cannot lead a nation. I could care less if my President were a man or a woman. I just feel sorry for that woman's husband ... imagine all the jokes he's gonna get.[/size][/QUOTE] [color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]Ha, if the President's wife is First Lady, does that make him First Lord? I think a woman is capable of leading a country (New Zealand's Prime Minister is a woman), but I'm pretty sure we won't see a female US president in this lifetime. Too much gender discrimination, despite the feminist movement, heh. In short: don't hold your breath.[/font][/size][/color]

[quote name='Baron Samedi][size=1']If, in a week, someone can't formulate a decent post, then they don't have enough time to participate in an RPG. If the gap is too long, people lose interest and drift away, and before you realise it you've been waiting three months for one person to post, but that person had forgotten about it until like, two hours before they posted it. Which means that three months was wasted. I think a post a week is even too few posts. To get four people to make two posts each you have just lost two months, lol. Obviously people are sometimes away or unavailable, but when the wait gets ridiculously long you have to cut your losses.[/size][/quote] [size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]Yeah, and then you realise people only managing a post a week are employed, or are in finals, or don't spend 80% of their time on the internet. 1 post a week is an amazing effort from some people.[/font][/color][/size]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]I vote the current system, with one modification - if a scheduled poster can't post, and hasn't given any impression that they will, after a set amount of times (week? fortnight?) then the next poster can step up. Easy, simple.[/font][/color][/size]

[quote name='Generic NPC #3']Honestly, I don't know why the original is looked to as though it's a great movie to begin with. It's not bad. It's entertaining and has a decent feel about it, but it's not really anything that any other largely mindless action movie hasn't afforded us. Why it needed three additional films I'll never know.[/quote] [size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]Brandon Lee died on set, so it got instant cult status for that. If he hadn't, I dare say the film wouldn't be as well known and popular and maybe, [i]maybe[/i] we'd never have seen Halle Berry rip off the entire film's concept in Catwoman.[/font][/color][/size]

[quote=Takuya]Just remember that it's already been established that Sheba was a being many centuries old. We'll have to be sure to factor that in, but I see nothing wrong with the general idea. The doppelganger concept is one I like, though I decided to handle Liquid's doppelganger a bit differently than what Shy was saying. What's different? Here's a hint: 'Kiva' isn' actually Kiva (none of our characters know this, however). Now, I'd appreciate it if you all let me do the part where it becomes known that 'Kiva' isn't Kiva. Meanwhile, just post her as another character. For the record, she has powers similar to Liquid's, but wind-based instead of water-based. Also, Kiva has no state-shift ability. Oh, and she knows Liquid as Laqara, so she'll be calling her Laqara. Oh, and Sandy, remember that Melinoe still has Liquid's gun.[/quote] [size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]You know, [i]personally[/i], I'd be suspicious of my best friend appearing in a ruinous, demonic temple, and knowing I'm a mutant now and being a mutant too. I mean, seriously, my alarm bells would be all "DINGAF**KINGLING RETARD". [/font][/color][/size]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]This is my entry. If anything it was fun to make, heh. Credit goes to Ajeh for the wonderfully ironic Christmas message (given the gun-toting image of course.... though it could be a comment on society as a whole. :o Who knows, that boys mind works in [i]mysterious ways[/i]). Enjooooooy.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR] [img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=24939[/img]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]The complete darkness of the slope on which they fell was all encompassing, and the only way Unhate knew he wasn't alone at all was Vernacular's cockney cursing . Regardless, Unhate felt they were safe, as the slope seemed to be becoming less severe and the atmosphere was changing from the stale-air of the upper floors to something fresher, almost cleaner. Like they were near a river. "AH!" Vernacular cried as the slope stopped abruptly and she tumbled forward into, as Unhate had correctly guessed, a free flowing and comparatively clean watercoourse. Unhate landed on the sandy bank with a satisfying thump, and was soon joined by Melinoe, the demoness herself, looking somewhat dishevelled for the journey down. Unlike Vernacular, however, she had wits enough not to get soaked through and quickly stopped movinng before hitting the water. "Fancy seeing you here," Unhate said dryly, helping up the soaked Vernacular. "Always a pleasure," Melinoe retorted, quickly composing herself and looking up and down the area to which they'd emerged. "Where are we?" Unhate shrugged. He knew as much as she did. The area was a huge natural cavity, having been worn out by thousands of years of rushing water. In the centre was the river, it's surface calm, with a sandy beach flanking it on either side. The only entrances in and out seemed to be the slope from which they'd emerged, and curiously man-made arches on either side of the cavity, allowing the river to flow freely through. Even stranger, the whole area was lit by ancient torches - all seemingly lit recently. It was unsettling but, compared to the rest of the temple, serene. Unhate just hoped it stayed that way. "It's certainly an... odd place, isn't it?" Vernacular said, her voice having abandoned it's cockney tones. "Like a union of the natural and unnatural... perhaps the force that controls this temple are weaker down here?" "I'd say that's a pretty good guess," Unhate said, pulling out one of his pistols. "But I'd not drop my guard regardless." Pulling out another pistol he handed it to Vernacular. "I trust you know how to use one?" Vernacular nodded and held the weapon with two hands. "I just hope I don't have to use it..." she said somewhat wearily. "Yeah, your chances are slim." Unhate motioned for the two women to follow him and started wading out to the centre of the river, intending to take the archway to his right and follow the water. He quickly stopped when he realised how deep the river got, however, and had quickly. They weren't even close to the archway he intended to take. "This... isn't good," he said softly. "Not good at all." "That's why you wait for the Keeper of the Beast, idiot," an old voice reprimanded him. Looking to the source of the voice he watched as an ancient-looking man on a gondola emerged from the archway to his far left, his frail arms somehow pushing the boat easily through the water. "And who is that?" Unhate asked warily, stepping backward out of the water and motioning for Melinoe and Vernacular to do the same. "Another demon of this temple?" His gun was trained on the ancient man's head, and his finger twitched. The gondola slowly came to a stop before the trio and the man looked at him, his eyebrows knitted in frustration. "You daft, rock-headed fool... hey I made a joke." Unhate rolled his eyes, but was quick to note the man's lips were sown shut. He was using telepathy. "I'm the Keeper of the Beast. And if you want to know what's going on here, or, indeed, to get out of here, you better come with me." The women made to move forward but Unhate held his arm out to stop them. "And what guarantee do we have that you won't lead us to our deaths?" The 'Keeper of the Beast' laughed, a strange low cackle that made Unhate shiver. "You don't. But I can assure you it'd be a faster death than starving in here." He laughed again and Unhate grimaced. The old man had a point. Motioning to Melinoe and Vernacular, the trio waded through the shallows and climbed into the ancient gondola, unsure of where the Keeper of Secrets was taking them, but finding no hope in starving to death. As they pushed off the bank and back into the river, Unhate held his pistol tight. He hated this temple.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]I did. Last time they fell out. I've got to work now, someone else can wrap up this farce.[/font][/color][/size]

[quote name='Baron Samedi][size=1']Rip-off? Maybe so, though I didn't directly source it from anywhere. But it's not as if "scary hallucinations representing as physical manifestations" is a completely original topic.[/size][/quote] [color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]Scary hallucinations haven't "existed for centuries". This monster was never part of the nightmare angle, and now you're twisting it. Yay.[/font][/size][/color]

[color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]I never intended to post often anyway (and even tried to weasel out of writing the final post, ask Shy) not posting while this Sheba business is going on would probably happen anyway. I'm more likely to post when presented with something that isn't a string of failed attacks, with no resolution, however.[/font][/size][/color]

[QUOTE=Baron Samedi][size=1]It's been going for five days, and we have eight left to go. I hardly view 6 or 7 posts on the subject an inordinate amount. If we continue at this rate, we'll make around 4-5 pages, which is 60-75 posts. I think we'll probably do around 60 odd posts. I don't view this detour as extraordinarily long. This is a ceature that has been around for centuries. Takuya's post might have been somewhat forced, but without it, the battle did end too quickly. There is no need for anyone's panties to get into a knot. Plenty of time and posts left for other things.[/size][/QUOTE] [color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]I don't agree with the concept of making a huge thing out of this boring, stereotypical, and worst of all, ripped-off monster. That's my final word on it. I'll post again when things are, what's the word cool kids are using? Oh, right, [i]interesting[/i].[/font][/size][/color]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial][b]Takuya[/b]: Your post was the most forced-sounding thing I've ever read. It was [i]dead[/i]. [u][i]DEAD[/i][/u]. It wasn't an interesting creature, and you're making damn near invincible with your exposition. [i]Smooth[/i]. I would've much prefered it we'd already passed this obstacle. And focused more on the disease inflicting the Legionnaires, where nightmares are manifesting. Sigh.[/font][/color][/size]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]BANG Unhate's shot resounded throughout the chamber before anyone else could react, and the spider woman teetered on the ledge, a gaping wound bleeding freely from her skull. She seemed stunned, but definitely not dead, and looked to snap out of her daze any moment. All were stunned by Unhate's sudden decisive hit... except Kaida. "Don't, just sit there, get it while it's down!" she roared, pointing at the stunned beast. At once all but Unhate ran at the creature, powers and projectiles flying. Unhate merely smirked and fired again, knocking the stunned beast back into the hole from which it'd crawled out of. "Get away from the tunnel!" he shouted, pulling a small device out of his pocket as the Legionnaire's looked dumbly where the creature once stood. "NOW." Needing no further encouragement, having seen Sheba rise from such treatment before, they all dashed back to where Unhate stood, being careful not to put their backs to the tunnel. "Just what are you playing at, Unhate?" Kaida hissed as she drew level with Unhate. "Knocking it in the tunnel didn't exactly work before!" The woman was clearly annoyed. "Just testing some new tech I got my hands on," Unhate said quietly in way of reply, eyes trained on the hole as he flipped open the button-cover device. "Remote detonating bullets to be precise." Kaida blinked. "Wha-?" she began, but was cut off as Unhate hit the button. At once a muffled boom could be heard from deep below them, then a hiss, then a roar as a column of fire exploded out of the tunnel, scorching the roof, and, presumably, incinerating Sheba. A follow up boom followed, and ash and dust exploded out of the hole, covering the room in grit and bits of spider-woman. Unhate almost grinned as a charred, mutated skull fell at his feet. "I guess that means the test was successful."[/font][/color][/size]

[size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]I'm not actually Filipino, the tagalog in my sig is a corny romantic gesture for my Filipino girlfriend. lol[/font][/color][/size]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][quote name='Imi][SIZE=1']I thought we were talking silly kid things, but since others have talked about real jobs they wanted...[/SIZE][/quote] In that case, I still wanted to be a Transformer.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]I have two friends I'd consider best... The first is Aaron who I met in Year 6. We were both new to the school, and kinda rocking out doing the loner thing, so I went to talk to him. He was, if I recall, putting knots in blades of grass. I was boasting about backflips on the trampoline. Oddly, we hit it off. He is a very stark contrast to me - I've a very solid build and dark colouring, and prefer being inside and procrastinating. He's thin and twiggy, loves sports and applies himself to his studies (weird, I know). Despite this he's really loyal and has always been there for me. 5, no 6 years now of friendship. W00t. Second would be Toby. I'd known him for a while (IRL), but we only really started talking in IM. Our first conversation ended with him calling me a wanker. Not much has changed. lol He's got the same twisted, ****** up sense of humour as me, and about the same disposition. He's the only person I've ever met IRL who really gets where I'm coming from. Toby rocks. lol[/font][/size][/color]

[color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]I know plenty of girls who wanted to be pirates... I wannted to be a Transformer. More than meets the eye, yo.[/font][/size][/color]

[color=indigo][size=1][font=arial]Desbreko's just an old-hand at this whole modding thing. If this was a prison, he'd be the guard who always swung his baton in circles as he patrolled, but the moment you stepped out of line the baton would whack you in the face with supernatural accuracy. Then he'd walk off like nothing happened. Unless of course you really pissed him off - those in the know are aware of the anger of Des' boot.[/font][/size][/color]