Retribution

[size=1]*raises his cup in a toast* Yeah, man. You pretty much hit me dead on, although I wouldn't really consider myself to be a "nice guy." I like to think of myself as an apathetic cynic who stands aloof from girl's annoying angst and emotional breakdowns when they look perfectly fine. But I'm not really. Heh. And what you said Imi, is actually psychologically proven... that women [moreso than men by a looooong shot] value committment in a relationship much more than men. So, I guess I can choke down the "It'd ruin our friendship" line if it's actually true.[/size]

[size=1]It looks as if you've done a great job on this, Satoru. But before I enter into critique, did you use pre-made/downloaded brushes, or custom made ones? I'm a big proponent of custom brushes, and I think that making a banner with downloaded ones is a cheap way of making a desired effect.[/size]

[size=1]Like I said to you on AIM, this piece really is superb. I'm not going to talk about the upper cell, as James really covered all available points, however I think the bottom does deserve some critique. The purple is a great color to go with, first of all. I'm not really sure why I like it so much, but it feels very comfortable in this picture. But I'm not fond of the strange shapes you chose to put in it, namely the oval thing, and the rectangular bars on it. The curve really goes against the vertical flow of the dotted line and the diagonals. Try fooling around with the placement a bit. The sun and clouds are awesome - how'd you do those? I think I see how... [spoiler]did you use alot of circles?[/spoiler] Syn, you rawk.[/size]

[size=1]I, admittedly, did not do the Google search for the meaning of his works. Rather, I sort of dismissed it as strange. [spoiler]A girl with breasts that are larger than her head looks deformed, and the milk coming from them makes the figure very odd. As for the guy ... *shudder* it looked ... painful?[/spoiler] So, I'm definitely not a fan of him, but to each his own.[/size]

[size=1]I've given up keeping an index... for now, I'll just be posting images for you to critique. I'm also asking that everyone post what they [i]don't[/i] like, rather than highlighting the awesome parts. I want to improve, and I've got a long what to go for what I've got in mind. As for the sudden dive back into abstractions, well, click [url=http://penpen.se/tagmonkeynew/index.php][b]here[/b][/url] to see why. [b]Valiant[/b] [1, 2, 3][/size] [IMG]http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y170/retri_trib/bubbles.jpg[/IMG] [IMG]http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y170/retri_trib/bubbles2.jpg[/IMG] [IMG]http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y170/retri_trib/bubbles3.jpg[/IMG]

[size=1]If people could hurry up and finish their sign-ups, that'd be golden. I'm tired of just ... waiting for those who put their foot in the door, and never finish it. So I'm told, though, Mugen will be kicking this off soon... so be ready, or you'll be left in the dust.[/size]

[size=1]I would make myself more outgoing and spontaneous. As I am now, I think things through a bit too much, and I can never take a risk if it puts me out of my comfort zone. I suppose mine is easy to change... but I don't like leaving my little bubble of comfort.[/size]

[quote name='Lore][color=#333333][font=trebuchet ms]Lol. YOU try to keep Emma Watson from looking hot.[/color'][/font][/quote] [size=1]OMG, you preach it, Lore. Haha. [spoiler]Haha... Grumbledore. That's pure genius. Had me cracking up for a good five minutes, Shin.[/spoiler] Now, since I personally thought this was the best HP movie thus far, do you think they can top it in Order of the Phoenix?[/size]

[size=1]I don't plan on keeping an index of my works on here, but I like the title. So there. Anyway, this'll just be a thread where I can post my poetry and prose for feedback. I have a few .txt files of poetry just rotting away on my hard drive, so I'm letting the world see. Please feel free to post whatever you think about them. I'm game for all types of feedback, but no flames. That's all I ask. I have more to post, but I'll see what type of feedback I get on this, if any, before adding more. Enjoy! [b]The Children[/b] You drink the neon intoxicating reflections of windows and hills of metal -humans were here Electriphotosfluoresensitivity where radios have conversations where we don't sleep where we produce magnificence. jewel of thechildren [INDENT] thechildren thechildren[/INDENT] [b]Remember You Must Die[/b] -- (Memento Mori) Remember you must die Remember you must die The throne is red The throne is red With the coup of the people With the hypocracy of the Tragedy in high places all the same you die like a dog at the end of the day With the coup of the people With the hypocracy of the Tyrant [b]Muted[/b] You're more mute than I I swear you are The man under the bridge said it so heleftyoubehindinawhitesilence heleftyoubehindinawhitelie i t s j u s t a LIE i t s j u s t a SILENCE i t s j u s t a MAN The mute speaks nonsense More circular logic than my broken radio Please control yourself, sir.[/size]

[size=1]If you could provide us with more information as to what your problem is, what program you're using, and how it's supposed to work would help us answer your question. Also, you might want to check your program's FAQ/Support Forum to see if other users are experiencing the same problem. Goodluck![/size]

[quote name='Sakura][COLOR=Navy']Sorry guys but I think I'm going to pull out. The RP's a little confusing and hectic for me. People are posting frantically and not much is really making sense. Thanks for the chance anyway. If anyone wishes they may still use my character in the RP.[/COLOR][/quote] [size=1]Ahh... well, then I think I'll drop out, too then. No one else has a crush on Alex, so there's no real point to playing. It was fun while it lasted, though! If someone wants to be Alex or still use him in action, go right ahead.[/size]

[size=1]Alex looked up from the lunch table when Sammy hopped onto it. Trays clattered as he impacted with the surface. It was annoying at worst, and the message mysterious. "Class meeting after the last bell in the courtyard. Be there, or be square." Such an announcement perked his curiousity, but not enough to stop the internal nervousness racking his mind. [i]Am I going to the dance? Who would I take? Sakura? What if she says... no?[/i] "This sucks." "Heh. You're telling me, man," Jason chimed in. A few others shot their eyes towards him, but left an instant later from loss of interest. "I don't know who I'm taking to the dance, either, if that's what you mean." There was a silent acknowledgement, followed by a return to both their meals. After lunch, he strode out of the doors with his messenger bag slung on his shoulder and [i]Brave New World[/i], the book he was currently reading, in his left hand. He sat underneath a tree, waiting partially for Sakura, partially for the next bell to ring, signaling a return to class. He flipped open his book, read a few pages before the bell rang. He stood, closing the book, and saw Sakura walk out, chatting with Hitomi. Alex idly walked towards the two, finally coming within earshot of them. "Hey. What's up?" He addressed Sakura, but Hitomi seemed to chime in before Sakura could. "Oh - hey Alex." His heart slammed at his rib-cage, but he showed no signs of fear - his voice was steady and soft, his hands weren't clammy, and his eyes rested on Sakura's.[/size]

[size=1][b]Name:[/b] Drake Ashton [b]Age:[/b] 29 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Faction:[/b] Mercenary [b]Personality:[/b] Drake is a smiling, happy, jovial man - the one you'd least expect to be a mercenary. While off 'work,' he loves a good joke, conversation, or company of a beloved friend. He spends his time enjoying the Japanese citylife, although they seem agitated and terse when around him; a foreigner. But when the sun goes down and the mask goes on, he quiets down, becoming more serious and focused on whatever task has presented itself to him. He maintains his pleasureable personality, but it is secondary to the excruciating task of murdering his adversaries. He takes his job seriously - a slip in focus means certain death in his line of work. [b]Appearance:[/b] He stands at an average 5'10" - the height and size of a man that looks to be harmless, and he prides himself on that fact. He is muscular from years of conditioning and toning his body from constant training. His brown hair is kept two inches in length - short enough so it does not hinder his fighting ability, but long enough for him to enjoy. It curls and ripples in graceful waves nearly as gentle as his sky blue eyes. He inherited his mother's beautiful face, and his father's extraordinary senses. [b]Weapon:[/b] Drake wields two muskets, one British-issue silenced-carbine sniper rifle heavily modified to hold ten shots in its barrel before needing a reload. On top of these, he carries a hunting dagger on his left thigh for extremely close-quarters killing, and a sharp mind. [b]Fighting Style:[/b] Drake prefers to use his sniper rifle whenever possible, as he has unmatched aim and unparalleled stealth to get into position. After making his kill, he does not rush to leave the premisis - doing so would indefinitely lead him to getting caught. Instead, he moves to a different, concealed position, where he has more than one method of escape. For jobs that do not permit sniping, he puts to use his muskets and dagger - all of which he has been trained to a frightening degree of accuracy, precision, and skill. The kills are concealed, and he extracts himself from the situation before things heat up. He does not usually work alone, as those he will kill are inside an elaborate fortress, and prefers to work in a small group, anyway. He feels stronger in numbers, more supported, and better execution always occurs with a team. [b]Short Bio:[/b] Drake was born and raised in London in a standard middle-class family. His father was a Major in the British Army, and was never home. This did not stunt the burning desire to become a Major "just like Daddy." With his goal in mind, he took the necessary courses in school, attended a military academy, and soon joined the ranks of the British military. His picture-perfect path laying ahead of him, however, would take a turn for disaster that summer during a riot in Liverpool. The Army was dispatched to put down the unrest, and the job seemed simple enough. The Red Coats lined up in intimidating ranks and files, and marched down every avenue in the city to seek out anyone stirring up violence and encouraging the anarchy. To everyone's surprise, though, the rioters did not flee - instead they made a stand, throwing rocks, glass, and firing small arms into the pack of Red Coats. Despite years of rigid training, instinct won out over duty, and he dodged a bullet headed straight for his neck, narrowly saving his own life. Once the riot was put down, Drake was reported for insubordination to his officers, and was court-martialed later that month. It crushed Drake and his family, the loss of position in the most distinguished army in the world. Another month passed, and word was brought back from the Far East that the British Navy had finally gotten to trade with Japan through the use of force. With the news, an increase in items from Japan was immediately seen - from spices in his food, to porcelean and silk in his house. Intrigued by such alien findings, he took it upon himself to learn more about such refined, cultured people. Soon, his study became an obsession - he consumed all information about their culture, language, styles, and past like a thirsty man does to water. In three years time, he was finally fluent in Japanese. Drake took a look at his life in Britain once again, after the close examination of Japanese life. He was discontent with his discharge. He was bored, as he had not found a job. He was angry at the military for kicking him out over what he saw as a petty offense. It was a strange mix of patriotism, curiousity, and a hunger for redemption that lead him to move to Japan until further notice. At first, he justified the move by stating simply that he wanted to become a Mercinary to help the British expand its Empire... but he was lying to himself. He wanted to start anew; to being life as a Mercinary to harness the gifts he had been given, while making a living in an interesting country. He got on the boat to Japan and never looked back. [b]Character Snippet:[/b] The scope revealed two women and a child drawing water from their private well. [I]But I?m here for a man? apparently wears red and gold suits a lot?[/I] He swiveled his rifle, the scope showing his target, even from an impressive distance of three hundred meters away. His eyes were as black as his soul ? he had murdered four girls ages two through seven last weeks, and now they were going to pay. His employed had not paid him with jewels or money ? he had none. He had only a simple meal of rice and a thin soup as payment for such a risky murder. It was against his ?policy? to accept those whom could not pay him in Japanese currency, but such a cold-blooded murder crippled his mind with hate. It was retribution of the most necessary kind. It was justice at its height. He flexed his index finger, pulling the trigger, exploding the man?s head in front of his wife and children. They screamed, cried, collapsed to their knees. They would know that man?s pain. They would understand the atrocities he had committed. [I]You live by the sword, you die by the sword.[/I] He packed up his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder as he sprinted through the thick forest he had fired from. If spotted, he would be a wanted man. For justice, he would be a wanted man. The irony struck him as somewhat funny, but more sad than anything. The meal was already in his stomach. The confirmation would come from the local news. He moved to a new job, where he might actually receive payment that could last longer than a few hours. [I]That?s the price of Justice.[/I] [/size]

[size=1][b](quote)[/b] [I]Sleekshifter[/I] was printed in elegant calligraphy across the hull of the light-weight class cruiser. It was the first ship ever to enter what the inhabitants of Earth called their Solar System ? and it broke into it with amazing speed. Its silver majesty could be seen sailing across the blue skies of the world, as if it were a diamond floating across Caribbean waters. Telescopes swiveled, at the new intruder. NASA marveled at the phenomenon, reaching out to it with every medium of communication known. As the jewel cut through space, it swiftly grew in size in the skies of earth. ?Is this?a civilized planet? Could I live here?? The voice whispered with a trembling note of emotion resounding through the sentences. Simultaneously, he tapped commands into the hologram-display, sending signals back to Earth. His message resounded throughout every audio-device in the world ? loudspeakers cracked, headphones spat, television and radio heralded the glorious message. ?I mean no harm.? Screams rose out of Manhattan, cries of fear screeched out of Tokyo, anarchy reigned in Paris. Through his connection, he could hear it all, simultaneously; the fear, the hate of him, the awe. [I]Are you God? Death! Kill ?em all! My life? it?s over, because of you. Save us. World peace?[/I] His speakers screamed out their messages to him ? merciless with their thousand tongues. He clasped his hands over his ears in terror as the world overwhelmed him. Then, silence. One voice, cutting through it all. [I]Where are you from? What language do you speak? This is NASA, the country of the United States of America?s space exploration program talking to you currently.[/I] ?I speak over seven dialects of Rell ? that more than covers all of your world?s languages. Claro que sí. I mean you no harm.? ?Please orbit the Earth and await further instructions, if you wish to meet us.? He was not a man of contumaciousness, however the idea of staying away from other humans for another second longer tore at him viciously. He would not stand for it, just as a hungry man presented with a feast would not waste time on manners or other pleasantries. He throttled [I]Sleekshifter[/I] at the Pacific Ocean, cutting a gash in the Earth?s atmosphere, and two seconds later, the Ocean. The water parted before his cruiser touched it, and created a small path for him to enter, and rushed back into place as he dove below sea-level. He rested there for a moment, cherishing the silence of the voices, muffled by the seawater. With his eyes closed, his mind reached out to them, touching them, assuring them he was indeed human and gentle and quiet. It was then Christian realized he had a mission. He had a purpose on the planet. He had to save his Creator. [b](endquote)[/b] OOC: Was that alright, Corey? IM me if it wasn?t.[/size]

[size=1]I wish I lived in New England. Everyone up there is so cool and democratic. Haha. But I live in Washington, DC... so I'd say it's close enough.[/size]

[QUOTE=king_monkey]There are always going to be conflicts and wars, because people don't want to sit down and talk. There are always going to be uprisings and rebellions, so I try to pay attention to what is real rather than a dream. dreams do come true but unfortunately most don't happen over night,you just have to believe with unwavering faith and they will manifest. every thing seen today was once a dream. :animesigh thanx 4 your comments every one :animesmil[/QUOTE] [size=1]You're [i]sort of[/i] correct. True, if you work passionately towards a goal, you will have a greatly increased chance of accomplishing your goal. This is true for something like running a mile in under 5 minutes, or getting straight A's. I think it impossible to overcome what I believe to be human nature to get to world peace. It just won't happen, folks. There's always a person who likes violence, death, and spoiling someone else's life. There's no amount of passionate work that can erase that. Well, nothing short of a world-wide dictatorship, like 1984, where if you even [i]think[/i] about breaking the law, you die, so you keep to it out of fear. And that is not worth world 'peace.'[/size]

[QUOTE=Sandy]I hope you are just being sarcastic, [B]Drix[/B]... X/ Otherwise it'd be good for you to know that not all moral values are dictated by the Bible. I don't believe in the Bible's message, yet the thought that killing is wrong comes naturally to me. Yes, I'm aware that there are loads of twisted, sadistic bastards out there who get their kicks out of warmongering and suffering of others, but hey, as long as we sensible people don't let them get in power, everything should be alright, right? Peace out![/QUOTE] [size=1]...Yeah, he was being sarcastic about that. As for not telling 'warmongerers' get into power... that's not going to happen. See [i]Third Reich[/i] and [i]Stalin[/i]. I wouldn't go so far as to point at Bush, but people are naturally combatant. Yes, the hope for world-peace is unrealistic, idealistic, and laughable, but it's Christian.[/size]

[size=1]People themselves aren't my inspirations - I'm sure some have been extremely influential to me, but more art [i]trends[/i] that have made my style evolve to what it is today. First, the generic sig-making started me off in my artistic endeavors. I followed tutorials by the letter for some time. It wasn't until about two months of using photoshop that I realized that I should take what I need for OTHER projects, and mix-and-match certain skills learned in these tutorials. That really got me going. So I made relatively generic images - the abstract background with the cool anime stock dynamically placed on it - you know, the regular. But the next 'evolution' in my art was going to deviantART. There, I subscribed to a bunch of really clean, minimalistic photographers. Even though I'm not really a photographer, it gave me a taste of what I enjoyed the most in art, and what I might want to later re-create. Seeing a few images done without abstraction, and only with adding clever typography raised my eye-brow, but nothing huge. The largest change in style was seen during the spring of this year, where on dA, I read a description of an interesting photo that read "Influenced by the Dada Revolution." I searched it on Google Images, and I absolutely fell in love with what I saw. I started to use words more and more as art, just as the Dada Revolution tried to do. Well, technically, the Dada Revolution was more of an anti-art movement, where 'artists' wanted to challenge the classical definition of art being a beautiful drawing, painting, or scuplture. They used alot of new-agey methods that really caught my eye. So here I stand. Very interesting times in this last year, as far as my art went, and I hope to keep moving forward.[/size]

[size=1]Alexander?s paper slid silently onto his desk, bearing the assignment his class was to complete. It was a social exercise ? one that would not be as monotonous as the schoolwork they were routinely assigned. However, the paper went completely unnoticed as he sat transfixed on the angel sitting in his class, looking at her own paper. He marveled at all that she did; how graceful she was when she moved, how nice she was to everyone, how smart she was. ?Alexander?Alex? You there?? It was the voice of Leah, who was in his group for the course of the assignment. ?Oh. Very sorry, Leah. I sort of zoned out. How?re you?? he asked with a smile, attempting a rebound. She apparently hadn?t caught him in the act. ?I?m fine. So, Brandi, would you or Alex like to go first?? ?Ah, Alex, you can go first,? Brandi said. Alex nodded quickly, and began his task. ?I?m American, from New York City. My family lived in one of those high-rise apartments. There, I hung-out with kids who really loved art, so that rubbed off on me. We went out at night to coffeehouses and art galleries and movies. I?m also a Mensa-rated genius. Please forgive me if I sound conceded? I do not mean to.? He spoke in a quiet tone, hoping they would not think he was arrogant or haughty ? he was trying merely to fulfill the assignment by telling the two a little about himself, and it ended up sounding stuck-up. ?I like to play soccer and write in my free-time?? he trailed off, snatching another look at Daine, who sat behind Leah and Brandi. ?So, how about you two?? He said with a gentle smile on his face and a friendly tone in his voice.[/size]

[size=1]I thought that the cartoon on MTV was absolutely HORRIBLE. Man. But yes, Charlize is definitely hot in this next one - and the special effects look great. I'm looking forward to the movie, and I hope that it picks up all the slack that the cartoon left loose.[/size]

[size=1]I thought that this was a very well-done movie. People complain about them hacking the story - what did you expect them to do? Have a ten hour movie? Of course you have to cut some of the side stories and whatnot. I think the acting was actually pretty good, and the story was relatively faithful to the book as well. The only thing I don't like is that how Dumbledore [spoiler]was on the edge all the time... I thought he was supposed to be calm and collected![/spoiler][/size]

[size=1][B]Name:[/B] Alexander Crowne (Alex for short) [B]Age:[/B]17 [B]Gender:[/B] Male [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://hyung-taekim.org/displayimage.php?album=10&pos=1][link][/url] Alexander can be usually seen wearing cargo pants and a custom-made shirt with whatever design he sees aesthetically pleasing. He stands at average height (5?10?) with an athletically toned frame. [B]Personality:[/B] Alexander is from a very rich area, and thusly can appreciate art in any form. It also has formed him to become a creative individual all around. He approaches problems from many angles, and thinks from different perspectives. In the company of friends, he is very sociable and happy, but with strangers he tends to quiet down more, sit back, and watch things. When in a bad mood, he withdraws to where ever solitude exists, usually wishing not to be interrupted. Overall, he is honest and gentle, happy and observant. [B]Short Bio:[/B] Alex grew up in an upper class neighborhood in New York City. It was by the off chance that his rich uncle had bought his middle class family an apartment suite, that his family was living in such a space. He had several siblings, and was the oldest of them; it was there he was forced to command them to do chores, and it was there he began to value solitude. He grew up with a handful of richer boys and girls, most of which who held the arts in high regard; on friday nights they'd drive to galleries, concerts, buy photography off the street corner, hang out in the famous coffeehouses of NYC nightlife. While most of his friends had to sacrified their studies to have such a good time, Alexander did not, due to his Mensa-rated IQ and abstract, far-off grasps of even the most solid concepts. He breezed through his studies, not worrying too much about things, as the work did not seem like a challenge. It seemed like monotonous busy work. His father made him take advantage of his rich surroundings, and enrolled him in a fencing class. Alex signed up for the soccer team for the extra challenge, and managed to make it to varsity as a freshman. His father and mother expected him to do well -- his performance at everything else had been astonishing, and of course it was the same way once again. [B]The Crush List:[/B] Daine[/size]

[size=1]I was thinking about this the other night. I'm thankful for my family, for a nice home, for my family's cars, for my family's tight bond, and the blessings that the higher power has bestowed upon me, for without that I would have nothing. If we are thankful for such things, perhaps we could try to give a fraction of it to those who lack them?[/size]

[size=1]Sounds like a very good idea, Dagger! Perhaps the person's friends could get an automated PM as well saying that it's their birthday, and to wish them well? Just a though. Anyway, today's [i]my[/i] birthday, Dagger. Feel guilty! >:3[/size]

[size=1][B]Name:[/B] Christian Starweaver [B]Age:[/B] 19 Rotations of Earth around Sol. [B] Gender:[/B] Male [B] Appearance:[/B] Christian is the paramount of elegance and refinement, from his long brown hair and soft tan facial features to his athletically toned frame. His deep hazel eyes are portals to his kind and gentle soul, as pure as driven snow. One might relate his appearance most closely to that of Arabic descent, which is readily apparent in his daily garb. He dons intricate robes of earthy tones, accurately reflecting his humble and reserved demeanor. [B]Biography:[/B] Christian was born into the royal Starweaver bloodline ? a bloodline spanning the greater half a millennia. The Starweavers controlled one fourth of the known galaxy, and more importantly, had the ability to create, or ?weave? and manipulate light and heat, and thusly were revered throughout the galaxy as the dominant ?breed? of human beings. Christian is the son of Raulisto and Marrion Starweaver ? the two ambitious rulers of the Starweaver Empire ? and a disgrace to his family?s name. When given the option to succeed his father has heir to the Starweaver throne, he declined, stating that the acceptance of such a position would be irresponsible and tyrannical. He attempted to argue for the freedom of his subjects, but to no avail. Instead, he was belittled, shut away in scholarly rooms and cozy chambers, oblivious to the goings on of the outside galaxy. He remained in this ignorant state for five years ? during this period of time he learned the sacred Art of Starweaving from his mother, and eventually mastered it. After Christian?s mastery of the Art of Starweaving, he was kept in even stricter confinement, under the watchful eye of his father. Deciding that his life would be ultimately inconsequential if he remained in captivity, he escaped under the cover of nightfall, stole his mother?s cruiser, and set off into the black abyss. The exit was a daring one, one with little hope ? Starweaver Space was tightly patrolled and closely policed ? however, with a stroke of luck, he lost his pursuers in the orbit of a sun, and headed off for parts unknown. [B]Armaments (if applicable):[/B] Strapped around his left wrist is a small, ebony wand ? the primary tool of a Starweaver. [B]Sample Post:[/B] ?Christian, we have brought you the finest ladies within twenty light-years, throughout the vast reaches of the Empire,? his mother?s tone was vibrant and formal in the address to her son. In response, he gave a beaming smile at all thirty ladies, bowed, and slowly walked down the line, making brief small talk with each one. ?It?s a pleasure to meet you, Starweaver,? was the general greeting, to which he responded confidently. ?The pleasure is mine, meeting the most beautiful and well-mannered ladies from across the Empire.? He gave them all a very low bow ? one that was perhaps more humbling than necessary from the Prince of the Starweaver Empire. His father shot him a disapproving glance, and forcibly proceeded the night. He intended on marrying Christian off to one of the ladies of nobility, so as to preserve the purity of the throne. The night drew to a close with increasing tension resounding between Christian and his father?s exchanging conversation ? when Raulisto suggested that Christian?s feelings were unimportant, the Prince could no longer hold back his smoldering anger towards his father and his painful indifference. His mother quickly dispelled the maidens to the guest rooms, sensing that the two were sending mixed messages to the impressionable women ? messages they would carry back to their home worlds. ?Why don?t my feelings matter, father? I am not a rock or a chair!? His voice quivered violently, in a failed attempt at civility in his address to his father. ?If you marry anyone, you would be diluting our pure Starweaver blood! It?s an abomination to the universe! Feelings must listen to reason, Christian.? ?I?m sick of reason. I?m sick of your books that you shut me away into. I?m sick of the silent world you smother me with. I am no longer your son. I am not a Prince, nor a Starweaver.? His father?s teeth clamped tightly in an embrace of fuming hatred as he stared at his son leaving the room in rush of billowing robes and rising emotion. The air stirred with unrest ? the unthinkable was on the horizon.[/size]