Engel

[color=crimson][size=1]Interesting, for sure. [b]What is your element of power?[/b] A wise man learns from the mistakes of others. Take that as you will. I take it as, [i]Knowledge is power.[/i] [b]Who taught you how to ride a bike?[/b] I taught myself through skinned knees. My dad never had the time. [b]When do you think enough is enough?[/b] For those who seek perfection there can be no rest this side of the grave.[/color][/size]

[color=crimson][size=1]Ruhe planted his feet wide and bent, ready against another tremor. He looked at Solace incrediously, cocking an eyebrow as he pulled a long toohpick from his right pocket and began to chew it to keep his mind off of the topic of cigarettes. Can't smoke, or light a fire underwater. No point in trying. [b]"Whatcha mean, hold your hand? Are you serious?"[/b] He said, his eyebrow still up. She looked at him and nodded up and down, up and down. [b]"Of course I'm serious, don't I look serious? We're in Sealand, but without Mushu and all the other friendly aquatic animals, Aquaman here just knocked out some weird robed guys, and not to mention the fact that we're probably underwater and the fact that the ground is shaking and-"[/b] She began, her voice getting higher each time. Ruhe almost laughed. She'd gone up what, an entire octave? And in one breath, too. Sighing, Ruhe chewed on his toothpick for a while before holding out his right hand. On that hand, there were several things. One was a simple silver band around his index finger, another was a silver bangle that bore some words in German, and the third was a black band right underneath it. He flicked his wrist slightly at her. [b]"If it'll get you to close yer mouth long enough that you don't choke over worry and lack of air."[/b] He said, closing an eye and turning his head to Nathan. [b]"Ey, Wonderboy, what do we do now? We're like 20,000 leagues under the sea or something. Since you can shoot water or something like that, I say you direct us. Colonel."[/b] Ruhe said, chewing the toothpick with his semi-white teeth patiently as he looked at Nathan, one eye still closed.[/color][/size]

[color=crimson][size=1]I've had this game for a while, maybe a week after it came out. I beat the E5 (Oh, sue me, I know it's E4 and CHAMPION.) a few weeks ago, and ever since then have been Wi-Fiing my way up to awesomeness. My team that I'm training now is Magmortar, Zangoose, Metagross, Blastoise, Sceptile, and Spiritomb.[/color][/size]

[center][size=8][color=black][font=timesnewroman]ACT I[/color][/size][/center][/font][color=crimson][size=1] Ruhe was playing with his lighter in his pocket, and brought it out when someone asked if they had materials for a fire. Though, it was probably too waterlogged to work anymore. He shook it up and down, trying to empty it of water. He sat down on the beach and looked up at the sky for a fair bit of time, watching the clouds sail idly by. He nodded his head softly, tapping his feet against the sand. [i]Fascinated by the face of time, got it now, I'm gonna make some time...[/i] He thought to himself, trying to make sense of everything that'd happen. In what sort of way could fate bring 5 people of different and rather plain origins together on an island that was like Stonehenge's cousin? The question seemed quite specific, and quite crazy. Shaking his head, Ruhe stood up and tried his lighter. To his surprise, it worked. Smirking to himself, Ruhe began to walk around the island when he heard what could be described as something akin to a clamor, but not quite the same. Turning his head, Ruhe found himself facing what appeared to be a shimmering pool of water that had engulfed an entire stone. Cocking an eyebrow, he had half the mind to say, "What in the hell is this?" and run around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Logical process and common sense said no. Instead, Ruhe did two things. one, he lit the lighter and wistfully asked god for a cigarette, and two, made his way to the stone that had become a lake. He tapped the only girl, Solace, on the shoulder, and wordlessly pointed to the blue stone. Fishing through his pockets, he found one last cue - a cigarette named so for it's one quater tobacco content - hidden in the corner of his pocket. It was nice and safe inside of the wrapper, and still dry. He closed his fingers around it as he and the others gathered around the gate. They stood in silence until Ruhe decided to break that silence with a cynical remark. [b]"God, I need a smoke."[/b] He pulled it out slowly and placed it between his lips. Even though he vowed to quit, this was all too much to handle at one time. He lit it with a steady hand, inhailing deeply. He spoke again. [b]"So guys, who else thinks this looks like a Stargate?"[/b] He said, chewing on the end of the cigarette with sharp teeth. He gained a few chuckles. Seeing no other plauseable course of action, he stepped up to the stone and atttempted to touch it. To Ruhe's mild surprise, his hand passed right through it. He pulled it out and examined it. Smiling, he looked at them. [b]"I don't see what else we can do, and this seems interestin'. Whether you decide to join me or not, I'm heading through the reflectin' pool type thingy here."[/b] Ruhe surveyed them all for a moment, listening to their mutters of approval. Slowly, the group moved together and look at the blue object. A question was asked by Zizu. [b]"Y'think we'll be able to get back?"[/b] To this, Nathan responded simply. [b]"Well, I guess we'll find out."[/b] [b]"Good enough for me."[/b] Solace chimed in. Cody seemed unsure, but nodded after a moment, keeping silent. Smirking to himself, Ruhe took a long drag of his cigarette and stepped through the portal, the others following behind him. A rush of gravity and a feeling like being underwater later, the group emerged onto solid ground. A sign mounted in the ground in an alien langugae that they could all somehow understand read the following. [b][i]"Welcome to Aquas du Mon."[/b][/i][/color][/size]

[color=#A74155][size=1]"Sounds more like a high-school reunion. I expected more, "Oh my god, who the freak are you, what am I doing here?" ...Anyway. I am Ruhe Einsamkeit, 17, from East Berlin. Germany, though I hope you would all know your geography well enough to figure that out." Ruhe gave a smile to show he wasn't insulting them, but trying to lighten the mood. He looked around. Nate. The semi-big guy with the "athletic, popular guy" sort of build. He seemed nice and reasonable enough, but first impressions can never be trusted. He had fairly tan skin, and a sort of beach boy look to him. Though, I suppose, thought Ruhe, I wouldn't know much about the whole surfer subculture thing. I do live in Berlin, after all. The girl. She was the only girl there, so this name seemed to fit her well enough. She seemed almost meek, but Ruhe could sense this sort of inner strength inside of her. She also seemed a bit tomboy-ish. Ruhe shrugged to himself mentally, sizing everyone up. Might as well continue with my "checklist", thought Ruhe idly. Idle thoughts for an overactive mind. The lean boy, with shoulder length hair stared back intently at Ruhe. Ruhe almost smirked. It reminded him of his younger brother who'd died the year before. Ruhe shrugged the thought off and looked at him. He seemed to be reasonably shy, as most people would be in this sort of situation. However, Ruhe was a wisecracker and a clown, and didn't take that sort of approach- to anything. The larger individual to the left of the lean boy looked at him. He was not ugly, nor messy, but a beach kid. He had suntanned hair and a light layer of uneven tan on his body that suggested he either burned or reacted to sunlight in different ways, or had varying times outside in the sun. This was the kind of person who seemed like he could be trusted with something. And Ruhe, being himself, gave no such analystic view of himself.[/color][/size]

[color=#A74155][size=1]The sky was dark and bloated with rain, buldging and pushing on the thin boundaries called clouds. Ruhe stood still and looked up as the rain burst forth, falling slowly and spattering on the worn out asphault road and darkening it from a light gray to a heavy, dark black. It eventually began to soak through his clothes and mat his hair to his face, plastering it to his cheeks. He brushed the strands out of his eyes with his long, bony fingers. [b]"Ist kalt...I should get inside."[/b] He muttered to himself in his accented voice. Nowadays, most German schools taught English and German at the same time as to be better equipped to function with the outside world. Ruhe rarely used German, as he preferred English more. More people spoke it, anyway. Sighing as he took one last look at the rainclouds above, sending the droplets to earth at an ever increasing tempo, Ruhe headed into the large skyscraper next to him and shook his hair out, muttering to himself about "wet clothes and matted hair." The skyscraper was actually a hotel , part of a large hotel chain that ranged across the entire world. Ever since he'd went to live out on his own, he'd gotten a job keeping this hotel in order, and was allowed to stay there until he found a permanent residence. Not like he wanted to, who would? Free internet access, free food, free cable, free bed, and the ability to make money doing next to nothing. Laughing to himself as he remembered a paticularly funny incident that invovled hotel room number 283, a bath towel and a gold boullion, Ruhe began to do his meager tasks such as bookkeeping, cleaning up various rooms, and managing the hotel's finances on certain issues. This life was completely fine for Ruhe, and he was content to it. Soon, it became time for him to take a break. While he didn't do it much, Ruhe had a certain fondness for cigarettes. Pulling one out of his left jeans pocket, he zipped up his short jacket that had a design resembling a black and white and grey Union Jack and headed for the roof, fishing a lighter out of the other pocket. It was considered common courtesy as an employee not to smoke while on break, or on duty, inside of the hotel. As the elevator dinged to the roof, Ruhe pulled two earphones from his jacket pocket, placing one in each ear. The earbuds clung to the inside of his ears, and he sighed in content as he used his slightly dirty thumb to leaf through the albums and artists on the scroll wheel of his iPod. Selecting a song at random, he pressed play and tapped his foot along to the beat as he lit the cigarette and tasted the fumes, and then realized something. Smoking would end up killing him. He still had time to stop. It's funny how a certain song - In this case, "I Wish I Could Fly Like Superman" - can change your world. He threw the cigarette down to the ground and stomped it out, then continued to tap to the beat. Tilting his head to the sky, he looked up at the cloudy, raining evening as he began to step, singing along with the song. [i]"I wish I could fly like Superman, yeah, wish I could fly like Superman..."[/i] However, he took two steps too far and fell off the edge of the roof, falling downwards quickly through the air towards the ground- Ground did not meet with an explosive, bone shattering force. Instead, clouds of clear days and sunny skies were rushing past him. It was almost as if he'd fallen through the earth. Below, through the thick white clouds, he could see a large blue mass - and then nothing as he closed his eyes, the iPod still speaking into his ear with The Kinks. [i]"Yeah, wish I could fly like Superman..."[/i] --- The water was wet, cold, and salty. Opening his eyes forcefully, Ruhe groaned as he spat out water and blinked. [i]If this is hell, I would of died sooner. But I suppose not, because I'd be in a lot more pain. I think it's best to just chill the freak out and deal with it all calm like. I suppose. I wonder if it could be heaven?[/i] As he began to wonder, Ruhe realized something. He solved most of his problems with cynicism. He took everything and made it sarcastic, made fun of it, so he could hide the fact when he didn't know next to crap about it. Sighing, he sat up on a wet, slightly sandy beach, still masking the fact that he knew nothing at all, and was, in fact, feeling very creeped out, and very alone. Trying to make the best of it, he stood. The fall was rather fun, he thought to himself idly. Idle thoughts kept his mind occupied while he tried to deal with his situation. So many questions swam through his head that only a few bizzare thoughts peeked into consciousness. [i]"Shouldn't I see where I am? And like...dry my clothes or something?"[/i] Ruhe began to survey the land as he thought back to the song that had been his company in his fall to hell - or whatever this place was. [b]"That wasn't what I ment by fly like Superman."[/b] He muttered, annoyed, as he took off his shirt and wringed out the water, and then tried to do the same for his jacket. As he was about to take his pants off, he noticed two things. The song was still playing, which ment his iPod still worked, and that three other people were looking at Ruhe as he began to slide his pants down to wring them out. Sheepishly, he pulled the jeans back up and waved tenatively to the group. [b]"I hope you guys weren't expecting a full moon. Anyway, nice to meet you all. I suppose."[/b] As he spoke, he thought one thing. [i]Where the hell am I?[/i][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]"Women? I wouldn't know, never really found time for that between being shot at in wars and getting drunk in bars. Anyway."[/b] Ezekiel read over the letter carefully, chewing on the end of his cigarette. He thought to himself in slight amusement that if he got himself a chew toy, he could stop his cigarette addiction. Looking down at the letter, he sighed and folded it up. [b]"Oh, the usual. Deacon wants to rig some railroads for a project or sommat. And this says us - that is, you and I - should go help him. I'd rather chew a cigarette and go to sleep, but I guess work is work. Besides, sounds pretty important."[/b] Ezekiel stopped for a moment and looked at Charles. [b]"Lemme see your lighter."[/b] [b]"For what?"[/b] Charles replied, even as he reached into his pocket to fish out the ligher and hand it to him. Taking it in between his dark fingertips, he reached into his own pockets and fished out a cigarette. Placing the tobacco stick in his lips, Ezekiel gazed at the letter for a short second before using the lighter to set the letter on fire. It was dry, and it burned quick. Leaning his head down, Ezekiel lit his cigarette off of the burning print. [b]"See, can't leave any evidence. And in this neighborhood, who knows who might try and pickpocket us, and reach into my jacket, 'n then we're, well, fucked."[/b] Charles rose an eyebrow, but said nothing more as Ezekiel handed him back the lighter, and offered one of his own cigarettes to the young man. [b]"I suppose we should be going, right about now. I don't feel like pissing off Deacon, eh?"[/b] Charles nodded and jammed his hands into his pockets as Ezekiel did the same. [b]"Oh, just so you know, my phone plays a clip of the song [i]Sonne[/i], by Rammstein. Not Mozart. I couldn't ever get into that classical crap."[/b][/color][/size]

[color=#A74155][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Ruhe Einsamkeit. [b]Age:[/b] 17 [b]Appearance:[/b] Ruhe has what can be described as a "firey disposition, offput by an icy glare in his cold eyes." He sticks to mainly tight t-shirts and an overjacket, and whatever jeans he can find lying around. Not exactly too concerned with the way he entirely looks, most of his attention goes into his upper body and most importantly, his face and his hair. While short, Ruhe's hair is his pride. [b]Face Shot:[/b] [url=http://img520.imageshack.us/img520/6343/partbyheiseke2.jpg]Ruhe 1.[/url] [b]Body and Clothes Shot:[/b] [url=http://img170.imageshack.us/img170/259/kof2fr7.jpg] Ruhe 2.[/url] [b]Country of Origin:[/b] Germany, East Berlin. [b]Element:[/b] Wind. [b]Starting Power:[/b] [i][b]Freistruz [Free fall.]:[/b][/i] Ruhe bends the wind into his will, shifting it's direction. Used in conjunction with other powers of his teammates, this can be an effective move. This is also effective in sea travel by boat; able to shift the wind in any direction, the wind will not be a factor, and indeed can be an aid. [b][i]Schwingen aus Blei [Wings of Lead.]:[/b][/i] Ruhe gathers up the wind around him, unleashing it forward in a powerful gust that whips and tears, often picking up small objects and hurling them at the enemy. Indeed, the wind itself seems to be carved out of invisible [i]messer[/i], often leaving small lacerations on the foe. Note One: Messer means "Knife" or "Blade". Note Two: Ruhe's control over wind allows him to move faster than usual, and has increased his reflexes, and will continue to do so as he strengthens his powers. [b]Personality:[/b] Ruhe, in nature to what you might expect from the Elemental holder of Wind, has a devilish personality. He's more playful than you might expect, prefering to be sly and witty. Not one to hold back from making jokes at his own expense, Ruhe will do anything to cheer othes up. While he has a tendancy to be somewhat of a jerk to most, Ruhe has a respectable nature about him, and knows when too far is too far. When Ruhe becomes annoyed, he channels his anger into insults to enrage his enemies further. Ruhe seems to derive pleasure from the squirming of people underneath his glaring and often humorous comments. However, when it's someone he cares about, Ruhe won't say a word. Instead, when someone he knows is either bothered or hurt, or the like, Ruhe will offer his shoulder and some calm, loving words. Indeed, Ruhe's nature is as varied as the wind, either fierce and tearing, or calm and sweet, or somewhere in a sublime middle. Ruhe has a bit of an obsession with music of the "rock" genre, or whatever he deems to be "good enough for his tastes." Listening to everything from Frank Sinatra to Red Hot Chili Peppers, Ruhe took guitar lessons at a young age, and still practices today. To this date, he owns 3 electric, and one electric acoustic. Ruhe also sings while playing, which can be difficult, depending on how well he knows the song.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Ezekiel hid a smile in his jaded eyes, hidden beneath the deep, dark orange sunglasses as he took a cigarette gingerly from the pack, placing it in between his lips. He chewed on the filter for a moment, almost methodically, before taking the lighter. He allowed himself a chuckle as it took light. [b]"Even the same brand I smoke. Well, I'll be damned."[/b] He inhailed slowly, then exhailed. Ezekiel tipped his glasses down slightly, looking at Charles. He gave the pack and the lighter back, yawning slightly and taking his seat again, trading off between the cigarette and the soda. He looked at Charles over the sunset-tinted rims expectantly. [b]"Put your ass in a seat or stand, guess it don't make a difference."[/b] [b]"I'd prefer to stand."[/b] [b]"Ehh, your choice,"[/b] Ezekiel paused, inhailing carefully and for a long time, before expelling the noxious fumes outward. [b]"Anywho, I'm Ezekiel and I'm the one that'd like to know. I was sent here to meet 'cha. Now, care to explain why I'm takin' this time that I could be spending doing better things -like sleeping, or enjoying music, or, well...sleeping - talkin' to you?"[/b] [b]"Actually, I was hoping you could tell me."[/b] [b]"...Well, damn. Alright, um, I guess, we're here to talk about...you. I think. I don't know. Why were you told to meet me here, and who in the hell are you, exactly?"[/b] Ezekiel shook his head after speaking, sighing to himself and groaning. As he waited for Charles' response, he muttered to himself, [b]"Why in th' hell don't they ever tell me why I'm supposed to speak to humans like this? I think they have fun doing this to me..."[/b][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Ezekiel sighed, rubbing his head. [b]"I swear, bein' kind is a curse. Gives me 'n excuse to smash some faces together, though, so it ain't all that bad."[/b] Ezekiel grinned wolfishly to himself, thrusting a hand into his pocket to search for a cigarette. Finding one, he fished a lighter out from the opposite pocket, setting the so called "cancer stick" aflame. Inhailing the soothing nicotine, he sighed and leaned up against the wall of a building, his ashen-blond hair hanging over his face limply. He sighed and tapped his foot against the wall. [b]"I's got to make my way to the safe 'ouse, I guess. Runnin' a bit late thanks to th' lady I met back there. Oh well, another time, another place."[/b] Ezekiel nursed on the cigarette for longer than he should of, enjoying it's incredibly calming effects. [i]If it weren't fer the Americans goin' to the United States - more like untied righ' now - we might not of had these lovelies here.[/i] Ezekiel sighed, almost happily, as he sat up off of the wall. The sky began to cloud over, covering up it's face and beginning to weep down the slightly dirty rain. Ezekiel turned his head up to the sky, letting the water wash through his hair, smiling at the simple joys of letting the rain run down your face and not do anything about it. [i]Well, I dun suppose I can let this pass as my shower, but it sure does feel good.[/i] He began to make his way across the street, the rain beginning to come down harder now. He scowled secretly as his cigarette became wet and mushy between his lips, and had to close the pocket with his other cigarettes to keep them from the same fate. [b]"Damnit, maybe I don't like the rain as much as I first thought."[/b] Ezekiel laughed to himself, walking down the sidewalk as he threw the wet cigarette butt into a trashbin, making sure that it was out. A man tappe his shoulder and Ezekiel spun around. [b]"Excuse me, you're supposed to put the discarded cigarettes into the appropriate bin, sir."[/b] He said, and Ezekiel tilted his sunglasses down slightly, and the man's eyes went wide as he stammered and backed away, tripping over the "appropriate bin." Ezekiel laughed in spite of himself and continued upwards on the sidewalk. He stroked his fingers together subconciously as he walked, aching for another cigarette already. The safe house was empty of life so far. He sighed and sat down, running fingers through his hair and cleaning off his sunglasses. [b]"That man better show up soon..."[/b] Fortunately, he also had a litre of a knock off brand of soda in his left pocket, and sipped at it to pass the time. Although he had a nicotine addiction, he rarely drank. Being restless, Ezekiel took to his feet again and went outside as the rain quit for a moment to suck down another cancer stick, when a man approached, reaching for something. Ezekiel rose an eybrow. [b]"Hello?"[/b] The man spoke to the safe house, and Ezekiel came up behind him. [b]"Why, hello there. I take it you're Charles?"[/b] [/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]"...S-so, uhh...what's your name...?"[/b] [b]"Yeh mean what I go by, or what my actual name is?"[/b] The figure behind an unshaky desk trembled, his face slick with cold wet sweat. His hair was soaked, and the sweat dripped in rhythm from his brow. He brought a chubby hand up to stroke through his mousy brown hair. His other hand held a tapping pen that chittered against the desk as his fingers trembled. [b]"Y...your actual name...."[/b] The figure sitting opposite of the man behind the desk, was also opposite in manner. He wore a playful, knowing grin defined by a lit cigarette in between red lips. His dark skin belied his true nature, ash-blond hair sweeping across his face. His eyes were covered with dark shades that hid a delighed smile in his eyes. [b]"Oui!"[/b] He said boastfully, and seemingly at random. He took a long drag of his cigarette, before looking at him again. [b]"Ezekiel Darrius von Kampfer the Second. Isn't it quite pompous?"[/b] Ezekiel looked at the shivering policeman. [b]"Uh...it's not...my place to say. W-wh-wh-what were...were you doing out there?"[/b] [b]"Does it really matter?"[/b] Ezekiel yawned and rolled the cigarette between his right and left fingers carefully. He lowered his sunglasses low enough for his eyes to gaze into the detective's for a moment, and something seemed to click. In an instant, the sweaty, balding cop was scrambling for the door of the cell, screaming. [b]"He's done nothing, just, just get me out! Oh, god, get me out! I don't wanna be in this ****ing room right now, oh god, get me out! Let him go!"[/b] The detective pounded the door again and again, until the others let him out of the cell. Ezekiel laughed to himself, full of what seemed to be boyish delight. --- Name: Ezekiel Darrius von Kampfer II Age: Appears around 24. Not known for certain, birth certificates are currently unobtainable for unknown reasons. Gender: Male. Appearance: Only recent picture of him is attached. [Open file? [url=http://img443.imageshack.us/img443/7159/kdashgn5.jpg]Y/N.][/url] Biography: Not much is known on subject. Appeared around ten years ago, seems to stay the same age. Has been invovled in several back alley fighting instances, and usually cooperates with the police. However, no one can bear to be in the same room with Mr. Kampfer for more than 10 minutes. [Captain's Note, view? Y/N.] Extras: Has unusually dark sunglasses at any time of the day. Hair colour is a fine ash-blond, almost white. Has been known to smoke cigarettes from time to time. Ezekiel looked at the rap sheet in front of him, nearly bursting into laughter as he read the captain's note. [b]"Haha, "Made a bet to see who could stay in the room the longest with him." And they got lots of **** wrong. First of all, I'm not 24, I'm 354. Jesus.Second of all, those, "Back alley fights" were just some playin' around. Cops these days are so uptight. Here, I'll write this a lot better. Hand me a pencil."[/b] Ezekiel held his dark skinned fingers out, and a pen was placed in his fingertips. [b]"Pen, pencil, meh...Thanks, love."[/b]He said absently, writing in his flowing script. He sat with a pen between his fingertips for a while, enjoying the literary exercise. [i]Born in 1697 in Brazil, to a Brazilian mother and a Germanic father. Was moved to what would later be Germany at birth due to conflict breaking out in hometown. Grew up a literary scholar, aspiring to become a great writer who's books would be printed in the thousands. However, Ezekiel possessed what could be called a rebellious streak. He was always getting himself in trouble. However, he messed up one night and the family's secret slipped. To avoid persecution, Ezekiel's death was faked. His funeral arrangements were made, though there was no body to be found. Months later, people say they saw what appeared to be a dark skinned, ashen haired man exploring the countryside. However, when these rumors reached Ezekiel's own ears, he fled down into Great Britian to escape the coming manhunt. From there, he became more invovled with what he was, allied with the Nicodemus clan. He was invovled in World War I as an infantryman for the United States. He was invovled in many of the greatest fights, and under the name of "Sean Wiliams", held the highest kill ratio in his unit. People recount him as a soldier that took a bullet to the stomach and wouldn't go down, instead taking three of the Austrian troops and making the rest flee. In World War II, Ezekiel took his place as a Commander, posing under the guise of "Nikolas Dermit". Ezekiel / Nikolas was crutially invovled with D-Day, and the rest of the war, eventually there for the offical end of the war, where he once again staged his own death. His name can be found in the records of the United States Army if looked for. After WWII and his feigned death, Ezekiel moved back to Britian to rejoin the Nicodemus clan under true pretenses. The rest, as they say, is history.[/i] Ezekiel combed over his biographical style of writing, even if it was an autobigraphy. Satisfied with his work, he smiled and sighed. He added a short little blurb at the end of the already scrawled on paper. [i]Extra extra: Ezekiel seemingly has the power to control the chemicals in the brain to invoke either a fear, nervous, or adrenaline reaction. Able to induce other effects, even though they're not fully documented.[/i] [b]"Well...that was good, now I think it's time for a beer and a nap."[/b] Rising to his feet, he set the pen on a wooden desk, stretching out his long limbs as he walked.[/color][/size] [b]OOC:[/b] It may be...slightly unorthodox, but I imagine I did okay. Alright, I hope you like it. =D

[color=seagreen][size=1]The air whistled through Lethon's ears, bringing the fresh morning sea breeze to his lips and nose. He inhailed it, tasting the crisp wind and breathing out his stress. He cast a gaze over to the woods, the birds flying high in the clouds above him as they twittered a cheery morning song. He smiled to himself, reaching down to the ground and closing his thin and scarred fingers over a chain, suddenly flicking his wrist and pulling a long and rough, jagged blade from the ground. Rocks and dirt flew up, a small dust cloud drifting into the sunlight. He grinned even wider, almost crazily. This was the best part of the day. It was his training time, of course, and who better to train with Lethon than- [b]"Little one of mangled ears and wide smiles, do you believe you're going to beat me today?"[/b] A voice boomed, interrupting his thoughts. It was the most familiar voice he'd ever heard. A large, almost brutish green dragon strolled from the forest, obviously trying to impress the local creatures with his fearsome appearance. He looked like an incarnation of the lush green world's power to Lethon, and to most others that came across him. [b]"Big one of pointed chin and smug grins, do you believe that I won't?"[/b] Lethon returned the challenge, allowing himself a laugh. Lethon began to slowly spin the chain, sending the raised and jagged blade into a circular motion, gently stroking the ground with it's not-so-gentle caress and sending up plumes of dust. Eranikus waved his large talons in front of his face, feigning a cough. [b]"I believe that you're trying to blind and sicken me with all of that dirt, young one."[/b] He said rather dryly, before taking a quick and powerful swipe at Lethon. Gracefully and fluidly, Lethon leaned back, avoiding the claw. [b]"Aww, what's wrong, wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, E-ran?"[/b] Lethon taunted in return, snapping his right wrist forward to send the jagged blade at Eranikus' face. It was slapped away by the emerald-like protrusion that adorned Eranikus' chin. To Lethon, it wasn't just a parry, it was a challenge. The forest seemed all-too-quiet for only moments before the sounds of bird's song and insect's laughter was replaced with metal's song and friendship's laughter. Hoisting the blade up from the ground, Lethon stared up at Eranikus, quickly deciding a choice of action. He ran forward, holding the blade in a way that made it appear he'd strike for the tendons in the talon first. However, Eranikus knew this move by heart, and rose his massive fist up quickly. However, knowing an opponent's move in battle can often be a blessing and a curse. Lethon, knowing that Eranikus read his moved, flipped the blade around and aimed a strike at the underbelly of Eranikus. He barely blocked it, but a large scratch could be seen on the scales. [b]"Very good, little one! Let's try this one on for size!"[/b] Eranikus lifted his head up as if going to bite, but at the last second, sprayed corrosive acid at Lethon. Lethon twisted out of the spray's way, but a few flecks caught his face and arm, sizzling softly and sending searing pain up his arm. [b]"Haha, I see you're still as sharp as ever, E!"[/b] With another chuckle, the two continued their training into the morning, the birds still singing songs and the insects and trees still laughing. An hour or maybe a little less passed before the two collapsed against each other wearily, nuzzling up against the other. [b]"Ahh, wonderful~. It's still early morning, what say you we return to a keep?"[/b] Lethon asked, panting and running thin fingers through his long white hair, feeling the sweat drenching his fingers. [b]"Ah, I hear that other dragons and riders are there as well. I propose we head southwest to meet up with them. We could do with some social interaction, Lethon."[/b] [b]"Sure, sure, sounds good to me."[/b] After resting a few moments, Lethon slung himself up onto the back of Eranikus, gently tapping his fingers against the neck of Eranikus. Getting the message, his great wings spread and they lifted into the air, enjoying the breeze's caress on their forms. They set down quietly and entered slowly, still relaxed and loose. Lethon and Eranikus were greeted with the sight of a wordless Dionne. He smirked softly and told Lethon to stay where he was, before dipping himself into the shadow cast by the large walls and torchlights. Moving silently as a whispering cloud in a darkened night sky, he snuck up behind Dionne and tapped her shoulder. [b]"Lost, or are you sleepwalking this early in the morning?"[/b][/color][/size] [b]OOC:[/b] Extremely sorry about the lateness. My life has been quite derailed. But, ti's back on track now. Hope this is acceptable.

[QUOTE=Dagger]Wow, really? I agree that Espers were not as powerful as in some previous games like FFVIII, though I still used them for feeling out or softening up bosses. By using chains, though, it's possible to take out all of the later bosses almost solely with Quickenings. (I felt a little guilty about falling back on that, haha, but it was still fun). If you start with three characters who have almost all their MP, do a decently sized chain, then switch in your reserve members for another long chain--well, most bosses will have practically nothing left in their health bars. ~Dagger~[/QUOTE] [color=seagreen][size=1]What I've always found best is pummel them down a lot with normal attacks, keep your MP up, then when they get to about 20% just unload the Quickenings on them. NOTE: I hate flying monsters. =[[/color][/size]

[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue][SIZE=1]Suigintou listened carefully to Tsunade, occasionally sweeping dark locks of his hair out of his face. As she went on, he found himself getting ready for a fight, feeling that familiar rush bcoming to him. The urge to fight, to see those who would stand against his beautiful country lie beneath his feet, defeated. It made him smile on the inside. He would be able to prove to those that doubted him that he was better than what they thought of him. So much better. As the Hokage finished up her speech, the crowd murmured amongst themselves, talking about the oncoming threat, or otherwise. He turned to make a snide comment to Ginmaru about something, only to notice that he had crept away. He grinned to himself and looked around for him, seeing him some ways away. He pushed through the crowd of people slowly, making his way over to Ginmaru. [b]"...even know what that word [i]means?[/i] It never really seemed like you did."[/b] Suigintou listened to the rest of the conversation, somewhat enjoying it until she said something about his father. He swore to himself and sighed. The one thing you absolutely did not do around Ginmaru was bring up his father. Suigintou had made the mistake on accident once and Ginmaru freaked out pretty bad. The next thing that happened was Ginmaru on top of Imi, beating her with his fists, hitting again and again. Suigintou flung his arms around Ginmaru and wrestled him off, taking him and flinging him to the floor to stop him. [b]"...Gin, get a hold of yourself. The worthless little punk enjoys making you mad as much as you enjoy reminding her how much of a waste she is. But be the bigger man and don't beat her up. She's too weak to take it. Look at her, she's barely able to stand straight she's so dizzy. You don't want to be in trouble before you can take it out on the Shadow, no?"[/b] Suigintou said. He didn't exactly feel that way about Imi, but he did believe some of it. And it made Ginmaru stop for them. Slowly, Suigintou extended his arm down to Ginmaru and hauled him to his feet. [b]"Hey, let's go see what the Genin are doin'. Always fun to poke fun at 'em once in a while, ne?"[/b] [b]"Not now, I have to do something. Sorry, 'Maru. Tell you what. You go "supervise" the cells and I'll join you in a few minutes, eh?"[/b] He said, patting Ginmaru on the shoulder and turning around, thinking to himself as he walked on. [i]What if I can't beat the Shadow though? The Hokage was pretty worried about it...and she's never worried about anything. What if I fail, what if I let everyone down, what if I die? Then again, as long as I save one life by dying, I won't be a complete failure. I'm already a failure though, so I have to redeem myself...[/i] His thoughts were interrupted by a collision with a Genin that wore long red hair and a somewhat embarassed and worried look. He could almost see a sweatdrop slip down her forehead. [b]"Err...hello there."[/b] He spoke awkwardly, his icy eyes looking down at her as he brushed a hand through his hair, pushing his hair out of his eyes and playing with his ring.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=SeaGreen][SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Ramirez Vaelastrasz. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Age:[/b] 34, although he doesn't act like it. [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img466.imageshack.us/img466/760/alcidzp8.png]Ramirez.[/url] Ramirez is often described as suave looking, with a perfect smile that makes most people sink to their knees. His dark hair is often lighthearted and windswept, carrying off into the wind. He wears a pair of dark-shaded sunglasses at times, even if it's not dark out. Although most of the Order may look at him strange, his attire is more casual, either consisting of pinstriped suits or a pair of black slacks and a miscellanious t-shirt, or button up shirt. After being stationed in Los Angeles, he's taken to wearing two rings on his right ring finger, one inlaid with a deep pinkish-red garnet and the other a simple silver band. [b]Speciality:[/b] Ramirez has proven himself to be a capable fighter on more than one occasion, although he's a masterful linguist and has several languages underneath his command. [b]Weapons / Spells.:[/b] While he's not an "experienced spellslinger" as some would call those rather loosely in the Order, he is a skilled weaponsmaster, and has lived beyond the life expectancy of 30. While most of the newcomers like to indulge in childhood fantasies of using entirely too large weapons to be realistic, Ramirez has managed to pull his dreamer's head out of the clouds long enough to realize that the only thing that gets you is dead, and fast. [list][b]Dio & Licht:[/b] Two semi-automatic [url=http://img443.imageshack.us/img443/6792/ramirezgunkf5.jpg]pistols[/url] are always carried around with Ramirez wherever he goes. While seeming simple in design, on the inside they are much more complex. For starters, when firing the gun, the gunpowder Ramirez uses is laced with flecks of silver upon silver coated, mercury-tipped bullets that explode upon impact. Another handy feature is the automatic detatchment of used up cartrigdges, and the guide of a laser sighted aim. One of the handguns is named "Dia", which is God, and the other is named "Licht", which means "light." [b]Obscuratio:[/b] An elegant and yet functional [url=http://img443.imageshack.us/img443/3663/ramirezrapiersl5.jpg]rapier[/url] is also strapped to Ramirez's hip whenever he goes out. The blade is a dim glowing silver colour, and most of the weapon in itself is a mercury, lithium, and silver compound reinforced with moderate amounts of iron and nickel. This is his weapon of choice when fighting the stronger Shadow People, as it allows him greater accuracy and control.[/list] [b]Personality:[/b] Ramirez is a laid back, almost lazy and rustic kind of person. He speaks with a mixed accent, which sounds like Russian, German, and Spanish rolled up into one. He almost always seems to be wearing a secret smile, and doesn't hesitate to take up in any ongoing action. A suave and smooth talker, he's been able to escape various forms of law inforcement through political debate alone. While at first glance, he seems to be a proper gentleman, he is in fact, a ruthless womanizer. People often wonder what a man like this would be doing in a once almost strictly Catholic-organization. [b]Writing Sample:[/b] [i]OOC:[/i] As you said, Onix, everyone hates Bios. =p[/i] The afternoon began to drain into night, the sky peeling back the skin of white clouds and lazy sunlight to reveal the bleackness underneath. It had started, the time when nothing was truely safe and everything was truely hunted. Strips of the blueish-purple still stained the sky, a welcome sight to Ramirez. The twilight was holding long enough for him to get into position. Slowly, he slipped into the warehouse which had been reported "Haunted" years ago, and people claimed they saw shadows crawling along the darkness, bleaker than the shadows cast by anything else. [b]"Ah, so ze 'oung princes of ze dark have come out to play, yes?"[/b] He said in a long drawling voice, tempting them with his "foolishness." In reality, Ramirez held two silver laced throwing knives in right hand and Licht in his left. If he strained his ears hard he could almost hear their gaze, staring down on him like a sort of meal that oozed and dripped pretentious life, precious, delicious life. The first one came from the rafters, sailing down like a shadow to crawl up on the left side. Ramirez nodded to himself and began to walk forward carefully, trying to guess the attack patterns of this group. His dark hair bobbed with every footstep and as he stopped, his right hand strayed to his face to pull off his glasses. At that moment, one of the shadow people lept at him like a beast from the leaves, and that's when he thrust his right palm outwards from his face, catching the beast with the two silver-laced throwing knives. [b]"You may "think" of me as the pretentious type, but I am dearly afraid that it is you who are pretentious, attacking when I mean to fix a fashion accessory! It only serves you right to be countered in return, my fair "prince."[/b] It began then, the bloodshed. The other two dropped from the ceiling as Ramirez brought his foot up into the general chest region the shadow, kicking it off as he lept on it, pulling out Licht and firing off an entire magazine into the creature. The other two began to rethink their strategy, sinking back into the shadows. Ramirez raised his eyebrow at this. Shadow people usually never attacked in groups, much less formed reasonable thoughts. He dipped his right hand into his pocket and produced Dia, stepping forward cautiously into the pale moonlight that was being cast down from the open windows that fluttered softly in the springtime breeze. It was then that he spun around and held the guns out, firing off two shots in opposite directions and ducking as they took the hits, flying into each other. They made no sounds of pain, or sounds of anything at all, but seemed qutie annoyed. He grinned and fired off two more shots at each, running to the right and leaping up onto a stack of crates. Quickly and silently they followed him, stepping through the shadows and appearing behind him. With a grin, his fingers twirled the guns backwards, facing the barrels towards the creatures and unloading both magazines into the shadow people. They were fading fast, utterly wounded. He kicked both of them off and put another magazine in each, firing off more and more rounds. [b]"A hunter does not claim ze title of having lived past his life expectance so easily, small ones. Now, I wonder what is happening on der [i]Family Guy[/i] tonight? I vunder...will Peter claim to be retarded again?"[/b] Ramirez mused to himself, quietly sheathing the weapons of war into his pockets and whistling a tune as he strode out of the abandoned warehouse. They wouldn't be back. He hoped.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[color=darkslategray][size=1] If I were ever in such an awful situation, I would love to have nothing other than one M16 with a couple extra clips. However, if it must be melee, I would have to say something like a wickedly curved and serrated blade edge would be rather...enjoyable, no? ;D[/color][/size]

[color=seagreen][size=1]While the Gambit system is extremely useful, it is semi-annoying spending License points on Gambit slots. It would be much nicer if they came along in level increments or something of the sort. Right now, I'm at the Bur-Omisace Mt. and leveling up. Vaan is 29, Basch is 29, and Fran is 25, with Balthier at 23. I have to choose between lveling Balthier or Fran. right now. I I think I'm leaning more towards Balthier. Any thoughts on that? Also, I really hope I get a new [spoiler] esper soon.I mean, Belias is pretty neat, but I heard I can get Adrammelech soon, and Adrammelech was my favorite from FFTA, and his design is supposed to be the same. Meh.[/spoiler]. That would be incredibly nice.[/color][/size]

[color=seagreen][size=1]Hey, do we all have to be human? I had an interesting idea. Just a fleeting one, but if we don't have to be just human, I can grab that fleeting thought. ;D[/color][/size]

[color=seagreen][size=1]Is it possible to change the element of the breath attack? For example, in my sample post, I had Eranikus spraying corrosive acid instead of fire because he's a nature / green / swamp dragon. Just wondering. If not, I'll change it. Danke.[/color][/size]

[COLOR=SeaGreen][SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Lethon Vaelastrasz. [Leth-ohn Vaal-ast-raz] [b]Age:[/b] 27. [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img139.imageshack.us/img139/81/emeriusnt9.jpg]Lethon.[/url] [Copyright Heise@deviantart.] Lethon's appearance has changed rapidly, over a short amount of time. Find him six months before and you would see a man with short silver hair, rosy cheeks, and a beaming smile. However, the last six months in an internment camp have hardened him. He was tortured and his ears have been ripped and damaged beyond reshaping. As if to deter from odd stares, Lethon has installed several simple silver hoop earrings, and has grown his hair out. Lethon wears mostly cloths and leathers, taking little heed of armor. However, when riding into the most heaviest combat, Lethon might wear a set of full battle armor, seen [url=http://img224.imageshack.us/img224/5483/gabranthco3.jpg]here][/url] [Copyright Zureul@Deviantart.] Lethon speaks with a soft accent, his voice is fluid, flowing, powerful, and yet sweet and soft. However, he doesn't speak as musically after being captured and put in an internment camp, but most of the quality is still there. [b]Resistance:[/b] Validus. [b]Weapon:[/b] Lethon carries around a bow that seems to be made out of a black onyx or obsidian material and strung with a strange type of string that feels as soft as silk, but has amazing elastic properties. He has affectionately named it, "Erlose." However, his weapon of choice is a large and irregularly shaped blade that has no true hilt or handle. Seen [url=http://img157.imageshack.us/my.php?image=frameoftheoppressorpj2.jpg]here[/url]*, Lethon fights with his blade, Vael, rather fluidly and smoothly, like quicksilver. [b]Spells:[/b] [list][b]Chain Lightning:[/b] [i][b][Offensive][/i][/b] Lightning leaps from Lethon's fingertips, smashing with destructive force into his intended target. If it makes contact, the lightning will surge and spread forth from Lethon's mental will, leaping from enemy to enemy until Lethon either stops the spell, or something stops it. [b]Fury of the Storm:[/b] [i][b][Offensive / Supportive][/i][/b] This is a dangerous spell, if only for the time it takes to cast. As he uses it, the sky begins to darken and thunderclouds form over the battlefield, raining down heavily on both friend and foe. While it's raining, the effectiveness of spells and long range attacks are decreased for the enemy and raised for the ally. However, this is also a form of attack as the lightning generated strikes at the enemy's encampents and troops. [b]Nature's Touch:[/b] [i][b][Supportive][/i][/b] Lethon begins to harness the power of nature and release it into the desired target's wounds, rapidly regenerating their cells and stimulating white blood cells to remove and stop infections. This spell can heal most moderate wounds from weapon lacerations to arrow wounds, but anything beyond is out of his magic's hands.[/list] [b]Personality:[/b] Lethon is a warm and friendly person, willing to help out if you need it, but being quite lazy in his own right otherwise. While he believes in justice and fairness, he's felt quite powerless to help out until joining the Validus. While he's an amazing fighter, both physically and magically, he has self esteem issues and believes he's never good enough for anyone. His time in a sort of prison camp has changed him, removing some of his laziness and further stimulating his desire to end the empire. Lately, he's become quite self concious about his ears and his appearance in general. Overall, all he wants is a good fight and a happy ending, and would do anything to get the latter. When on a mission, or in a fight, however, he leaves behind his somewhat...bubbly personality. [u][b]Dragon Information.[/u][/b] [b]Name:[/b] Eranikus [Err-rani-kuus] [b]Color:[/b] Green. [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img92.imageshack.us/img92/8982/estramusma3.jpg]Eranikus.[/url] [b]Personality:[/b] Eranikus is a being of strong will and strong heart. He believes that nature is the only true god, as it's the beginning and end of every life. He also believes that people like Lethon have the power to ask Nature for her help, and therefore sees himself as the eternal guardian of Lethon. He and Lethon have created a close bond over the years, and to others, Eranikus might seem loud and commanding, but Lethon and a few others know it's just his way of showing that he cares. Eranikus shares many of the same traits as Lethon. For example, both have a tendancy to tap their fingertips or feet against something at all times. [b]Snippit:[/b] The sky shone darkly overhead, a deep black and thunderous red as the drums of war echoed, imitating the beating of a heart that craved war. The armies of the empire marched ahead, several beating on large war drums made of stretched and tanned hide, a needless casualty of war. On a rocky hilltop, stood a man with long and twisted and deformed ears with a sharp handsome face and striking silver features. Lethon looked down in disdain as Eranikus strode up beside him, his large wings beating slightly in the air. Lethon turned to Eranikus and nodded. [b]"Should we clean the earth off of these misbegotten stains?"[/b] Eranikus asked with his deep voice and Lethon nodded. [b]"Lemme do it, Eran."[/b] Lethon stroked finertips through his hair softly, drumming them on his skull slowly. He began to tap his right foot in time with an unknown rhythm as he shifted back into a casting stance, directing his sight up to the sky and looking at the black and red sky, his lips filtering into a grin as he looked up at the war-sky. As if on cute, the clouds begin to lighten and become darker and bluer, swelling and looking ready to burst with rain and thunder. The rain began, slow at first, but soon heavy and harder, turning the dirt into mud beneath the enemy's feet. They had stopped, if for a short time. Lethon grinned and stood up on the clifttop, his foot still tapping to the beat, but the beat was evident this time. It was the rhythm of the rain, and it went at a pace that not many would catch. Lethon shifted back into the spellcasting stance as the first laceration of thunder struck the troops below, sending them into a screaming agony. He looked at the nearest battallion just below him, letting off the blast of chain lightning forming in his fingertips. Eranikus couldn't hold back any longer and dove off of the cliff, spreading his gigantic wings in flight as he sprayed a corrosive acid on the soldiers, melting through skin and armor. Lethon's eyes glinted as he lept off the cliff, following Eranikus as he withdrew Erlose and fired off a volley of arrows in rapid succession. Once on the ground, he replaced his bow with his sword that held meat-cleaver like qualties, Vael. He launched himself at the soldiers, screaming out a single thing. [b]"I'll never forgive you!"[/b][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue][SIZE=1]The birds fluttered up in the sky, their feathers catching the updrafts of air from the heat of the ramen shacks down in Kohona. They whistled and tweeted and trilled a beautiful song, almost celebrating the near perfect day of summer. The leaves that where Kohona?s namesake fluttered in the wind, a few tearing off and drifting and floating away. Suigintou smiled at the sight and yawned, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a wooden container that held roughly 78 toothpicks, and withdrew one. Slowly and almost hesitantly, he placed it between his lips and suckled on it. The cinnamon oil that the toothpicks had been boiled flooded into his mouth as he sighed. [I]?Things are so borin? around here anymore?I think Ginmaru is off on some skirtchasin? mission or sommat. Dunno. I wish some sort of action would happen??[/I] Sighing again, Suigintou brough his hand up through his hair, stroking it back and then pushing it back down. The garnet that was set in his ornately designed ring caught his eye, and Suigintou caught himself staring into it?s swirling depths, entranced. [I]?This is my birthright?this ring is my family heirloom. It makes me proud to wear it.?[/I] The birds had settled on a branch by now, pecking lazily at the branches to try and coax out any delicious meals hiding in the hollow sections of the wood. Suigintou smiled to himself again and decided to do nothing more than flop down in the grass. Technically, he was on patrol duty, but there wasn?t exactly much to see. The sounds of training alerted him to something, at least. He stood up and brushed off his legs, yawning and chewing on the toothpick. Whatever it was, it was probably just Gin Batou training. Was there a time that he wasn?t training? Suigintou shrugged his head and looked around. Gin Batou always did the same thing. There wasn?t anything to watch there. He sat back down and played with the grass, even leaning over onto his stomach and kick his legs back against the tree?s bark softly as Suigintou stroked through the lush grass with his fingertips, enjoying the gentle stroke and caress it gave him back. While he wasn?t the type to jump up and hug a tree to save it, Suigintou did indeed love nature. As the sounds of Gin Batou?s training faded away, another, more sporadic training noise took over. The grunts and thrusts and heaves that sounded like someone using a weapon that they weren?t ready for yet, but trying anyway. Suigintou smiled to himself and stood up, wanting to see who it was. He walked slowly and without care, and by the time he?d arrived, the trainer was curled up underneath a tree. Suigintou recognized it as one of Ginmaru?s old cell-mates, Imi something. Shrugging, he approached her and kneeled down in front of her face. [b]?Napping on th? job, Imi??[/b][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[color=darkslateblue][size=1][center]I'm falling Apart at the seams I thought I had everything It seems I didn't have anything. I can't keep it All together, not at all Will you convince me To write my story on the wall? I just can't take it Now I'll just fake it No, don't you worry about me Though I doubt you would anyway I'm just unraveling at the seams The fabric of me fading away Scrawling the sonata of a failure I might drop the pen But I know that I'm just failing her. I spent a lot of time writing this for you The pen's slipped too far from my grasp It's the only thing worthwhile I could do Just be with me, is all I'd ask. I'm slipping and fading and falling away The deed is done, and so is the task. I'm falling Apart at the seems I thought I had everything It seems I didn't have anything. I never will.[/color][/size][/center] --- [color=darkslategray][size=1]This is about the second post I've ever made in the Anthology. x3 I wrote this a few days ago. I'd like critique of any type, as long as it's constructive. I don't, however, want just, "Oh, that's really good lols graet job". Thanks for your time. I hope you enjoyed it~![/color][/size]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]Well, Ezekiel's is a dark red (Maroon-ish, I guess) glove that he'll wear from now on, and when he needs to use it, it extends into it's true form. I dunno. Thought everyone was supposed to have theirs at all time. Unless you plan on being able to snap your fingers and have it pop into your hands like a keyblade? x3[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[color=darkslateblue][size=1]Abelia worried her fingernails raw as she was told to report to the Volker fighters. She had everyone else?s safety riding on her and the other?s hands. And if she made one wrong move, it could be the end of her life. [I]?I can?t think like that![/I] She said, shaking her head and gripping the slightly-bleeding fingertips tightly into her palm. She was strong, she could do what others could not, that?s why she was chosen. And even if it wasn?t the sole reason, it was still one of those. She nodded to herself and set off at a sprint to the Volker fighter bay, her heels clacking on the metallic floor. She slid into the bay and looked around. In the corner, almost hidden in shadow, lay a Volker - a mech style, not a ship fighter style- that seemed almost forgot and abandoned. It had a blackness to it that radiated forth, and seemed to envelop Abelia. She was irresistibly drawn to it, and her feet carried her faithfully to it. She studied the outside of the cockpit for a moment before running at the bar to help hoist her up, using the momentum and inertia in function to fling herself into the open cockpit, sitting at the controls and flicking on the switches., activating the harnesses. They slid in and around her, keeping her secure in place as she sat there, checking everything. A note lay on the dashboard that read, ?Do not use; maintenance problems with AI, safeties removed? Abelia groaned on the inside and shook her head. Then again, she always liked a challenge. Smiling to herself after a moment, she moved it expertly to the launch pad and activated the thrusters, propelling Abelia outside and into the action. The explosions and ships were all around her. Abelia?s eyes flared as she took the controls into her hands, watching as the Volker followed her motions. She looked down at the LCD projector, seeing that it had several type of melee weapons available and several ranged, though only a few were installed and working up to date. She looked around and chose the first melee, watching with a jump of delight as metallic claws slid out of the mech-Volker?s hands. Without warning, she lept at the first battalion and sliced through them with an almost utmost ease. She smiled with a bit of a pride at her own skills. However, there was a warning that flashed on her screen. [b][I]WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING: LEFT THRUSTER OVERHEART? ACTIVATING SAFETY MEASURES? FAILED. LEFT THRUSTER SHUTTING DOWN. RIGHT THUSTER SHUTTTING DOWN.[/I][/B] [b]??Damnit. Now I only have the central thruster to work with.?[/b] Abelia muttered at the Volker, turning around and pulling a pulse rifle off of the back, aiming it and firing in a curving arc at a wave of incoming ships. [b]?This is Volker 5, callsign ?Eisbrecher?. Where did these things come from???[/b] Abelia asked into the Volker Radio Chat. --- [b]OOC:[/b] We should all have callsigns. =D[/color][/size]

[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue][SIZE=1]Sean had went to his room with Ry and they'd had a short, but intense conversation. However, Ry wasn't feeling up to more social intereaction at that time, and Sean was forced out of the room due to polite tendancies. He walked down the halls, stroking the elaborate designs on the walls with his fingertips and muttering to himself. As he realised that he seemed to be alone, his voice grew in volume, and his sharp german accent handled the songs of his native language easily. [b]"Wer zu lebzieit gut auf Erden, wird nacht dem Tod ein Engel werden, den Blick gen himmelf fragst du dann, warum man sie nicht sehen kann..."[/b] His loud and sharp, and yet sweet voice echoed through empty hallways, rebounding and resounding back to his ears. He smiled and continued to sing, switching into Russian. [b]"Mezhdu vseh vremen, Bez imen i lic, my uzhe ne zhdem, Chto prosnetsia briz!"[/b] Sean grinned to himself as he sang, reciting passages from his favorite songs. He could of entertained himself endlessly and then some like this, but stopped short at seeing Ben talking to Ally and another woman. Sean was overly annoyed at his "perfect gentleman" antics and approached the threesome. [b]"TapouT certainly sounds interesting. My name is Sean, and yours would be, ma'am?"[/b] He asked the woman that was next to Ally with a friendly enough smile. She bounced on her heels slightly and smiled back. [b]"Jennie. Nice to meet ya, Sean."[/b] Sean looked at Ben. [b]"I believe we already know each other, Ben."[/b] Sean said, feigning politeness. The thing about people who proclaimed themselves as perfect gentlemen, were - in Sean's experience - nothing more than skirtchasers and womanizers who were looking for a good time. [b]"Indeed we do, sir. May I ask why you'd wish to partake in our conversation?"[/b] Ben smiled at him, both of his hands pressed together in a gesture of impatience. Sean allowed himself a devious grin on the inside. While Ben seemed well enough on the outside, it seemed like he had a nerve for patience. [b]"Because I'm lookin' to kill time before dinner, is that such a problem?"[/b] [b]"Not at all, I suppose."[/b] [b]"So, what's everyone do in their spare time?"[/b] Sean asked, without really thinking about it. He was always tapping his foot to an invisible beat, and now was no exception. [b]OOC:[/b] I would of squeezed this post in earlier, but my internet had been acting funked up. Sorry. =[ It takes place before dinner.[/SIZE][/COLOR]