Chaos

[size=1]The single spotlight burst on with a clunk, the charge of electricity surging to the five hundred watt bulb. It was easily fifty feet high, but with a small opening, focused on the teleport reception pad. Demos' eyes adjusted in mere milliseconds, but even with his sharp eyesight, there was not a single trace of light elsewhere. The Hunter turned in his spot, looking all around him, seeing nothing. Even with thermal and infrared diagnostic scans, nothing was reported as there. It was pitch black, and below zero degrees Celsius. Of course, this presented no problem; Demos' robot body was insulated very well, not to mention that his armor was temperature controlled, not to mention his artificially skin, hair, and muscles. He rotated around in his spot, until he reached his original position. His face was hardened, a look of poised engagement. His eyes darted left to right, before sweeping back slowly in a looping pattern, top to bottom. The Hunter's right arm slowly drifted back to his D-Sabre, holstered at his hip, while his hand morphed into the Fox-III Plasma Cannon Buster. The moment his hand gripped the handle of his sabre, the world around him changed. The quarts lights shot on, bringing this unknown location from absolute darkness to the brightest day of summer. The temperature also changed, the heat from the lights so intense that the cavernous area rose ten degrees in under six seconds. Demos observed his surroundings, now illuminated by a culmination of over two million kilowatts. It was a huge laboratory, suiting various needs, from medical operations to factory production, by the looks of it. In size, it easily matched three or four football fields, as was Demos' guess. He eased up, seeing the white, pristine, spotless lab was completely and utterly deserted. But then it occurred to him then and there; if that was the case, who recalled him? He spun quickly, the minute scratch sending his robotic senses into a frenzy. His D-Sabre came slinging out, spewing steel-blue energy in the form of an elongated bar of plasma, excess energy crackling off like small spheres of blue fire that doused themselves out upon leaving the primary energy source. The blade of the beam weapon bent slightly as it was swung forcefully, but barely of notice. There was a slight sizzle as the beam passed through the wheeled chair's back. The upper back support section tipped backwards and completely disconnected from the rest of the seat and crashed almost silently on the polished tile floor. Demos looked around, eyes searching the area like before. It took a few seconds, but his posture changed from that of an angered crouch to an observant, vigilant lean. He disengaged the D-Sabre, the energy dying out, evaporating from bottom to top. From behind and above, he heard it. He watched it slide apart, the sheetrock panel, split right down the middle. From inside the roof, a large, bone-white machine gently dropped, a soft hum emitting due to the turning gears and grinding parts. It was as large as a bear, with a tripod lens, much like that of a microscope's, only each barrel was the size of a baseball bat. It lowered down on two steel bars, both as thick as a tree trunk, to just above a head's height. The whole chassis rotated, to where the barrels pointed a few meters ahead of Demos, and a sharp whirring came from the hulking supercomputer, as the lights dimmed to a pleasant glow. A red laser beam, as thin as spider webbing, shot out from each of the nozzles, and moved in a traced pattern, at supersonic speeds. They worked together, meeting at common points where detail was required, spacing out the lines between the front and the back, and formed a shape with a phosphorus beam of heat. Short, thin, drooping shoulders, and with a wrinkled face and wiry hair, the form supported a thick mustache that lined his upper lip, and ran to the sides of his mouth. Beady eyes hovered above a nasty smile that reached ear to ear, and a featureless lab coat covered his body down to his knees, where crimson colored khakis met his penny loafers. His hands were shoved into the coat's pockets, a single name scrolled on the left collar, indistinguishable at first glance and a blurry ID card, all colored in ruby red. Doctor Albert Wily. "YOU!" Demos roared, his right fist coming up, his index finger pointed decidedly in Wily's face. "Yes, me," Wily replied, his own voice, sarcastic and hateful, gravely and filled with resentment. "Or some form of it. Sadly, the tool has used the user." "What the [i]fuck[/i] are you doing?!" "Aside from saving your life," Wily mockingly said, eyes closed as he held back the laughter from his own twisted dementia. "just enjoying nothingness and all of existence." "How can you be alive?!" Demos yelled, his voice growing quite enraged. "Alive?" Wily's hologram removed his hands from the coat's pocket and raised them to shoulder height, palms open and fingers spread wide. "You call this alive? A downloaded AI representation of my own persona stuck inside a neural net restricted to only this lab and direct contact links?" A silence followed the immediate eruption, but it did not last long. "I'm willing to bet that you are curious as to why I tapped your coding and pinpointed location," Wily said, letting his arms slide back into his coat pockets. "Well, there are various reasons as to why, and in order to explain, other questions must be answered first. I shall start off; 'Do you remember your first waking moment?'" "Yes, I woke up in a tank filled with liquid hydrogen. Father was looking at me through the thick glass," Demos responded slowly, and after much thought. "Hmm, as I expected, especially with a double encrypted firewall," Wily said in a tone that reeked of arrogance. "But the truth is, your first waking moment was Bass hauling you off of a semi, inside a containment capsule, somewhere in Northern Russia. You have seen it, yes? In your dreams?" "...Yes." "And I shall assume you thought it was just a fabricated image set resulted in a mixture of computer intelligence and free will AI?" Wily blandly asked. "Something like that." "A trademark design of Bass, I might add, a quite ingenious one at that. It is a programmer secret, an executable that emerges during shutdown, and plays back recorded events in the form of a dream," Wily continued to boast, "and is a way to bypass the firewall, allowing you to gain access to information someone might have tried to keep from your conscious." "Why do I have it, then?" Demos queried, his rage subsiding, if only temporarily. "I was designed after Bass, not cloned from him." "Hah hah hah. There is so much you do not know, my poor, dull friend," Wily barked out harshly. "But the simple, honest answer to that comment is rather simple; horse shit." "What the Hell are you talking about, you insane bastard?!" Demos, again, yelled, his emotions taking flight once more. "Well, to put it in a lame tongue, you are my son, as is Levia."[/size]

[size=1]Demos snorted quietly, quickly getting up and walking into the garage without waiting for a retort. This was all bullshit, as far as he was concerned. Two terror organizations, one backed wholly by the single greatest military force on the planet, and five Hunters to stop them all. The supreme evil villain. The weary heroes. The convenient aid. The dramatic setting. It was the things legends were made of. And things like this only became legends because people died trying to complete the mission. [center]--------[/center] The ammo belt slid into place, the heat guard snapped down. Demos pulled the slide back, the hammer cocked, and the round loaded in the chamber. The M240 Fifth Edition Special Forces Type 'D' antipersonnel machine gun rose swiftly, the butt nestling against Demos' armor, against his shoulder. He was crouched down, hunched over the ammunition bag filled with ten millimeter rounds, and composition-4 blocks. Footsteps sounded behind him, his eyes darted slightly to the left, but he did not turn around or lower the weapon. A second later, his eyes turned back to the sights, and his eyes focused mechanically, his HUD translucently overlaying his visual perception, and his CPU traced the sight's lineups. They were off after fifty meters, and required adjustments. He set to work, not even bothering to notice whoever it was that obviously wanted a word with him. Turning the metal bar slightly, to recalibrate the aim, Demos smiled dully, satisfied with the change, and lowered the firearm to the cement floor, and gazed at it. "They're quite amazing, aren't they?" The voice was that of Demos. "Guns, I mean," he said quietly. "Genius in fundamentals, flawed by simple physical restrictions. Machines, built for war. Built for man. To take more lives quicker, quieter, and more accurately. Somewhat like the robot race, right? The Elite Hunter Squad Commander turned his head around, to see Iota standing, arms crossed, eyes distantly distraught. Her frizzy hair and dirty face reminded Demos nothing of the cool, calm exterior she strongly portrayed earlier. He was instead recalling the fragility of life, and the brutality of death. He could never grant back the life he had taken, nor could any other being known to the world. 'Death is an inevitability and life is sweet. Enjoy the sweetness and accept the undeniable,' that was something someone very important to him once said. "You gonna be okay?" Demos asked. "I think so," Iota replied. "I think I'm more burnt out than injured. It was a tough fight; an earned victory." "I suppose so, but I doubt it will be the last we hear of Red Alert," Demos said with a slanted smile. "But, no worries. From what I've heard, their forces are dimwitted replicas of Proteus, or at least loosely based on him. Or vice versa." "And what of Duke?" Iota softly asked, looking through the hole in the garage door, at the pattering rain. "Duke is taking control of the most advanced military branch ever. He has become a major player in mere days." "All the more reason we'll kick his ass," Demos said with a laugh. "We know the format of Headquarters, locations of this and that, and we're the crème de la crème. Elite Squadron Zero. We launch clandestine assaults on entire Maverick bases and blast them off the face of the planet. Duke'll meet his maker, just wait and see." Iota smiled, Demos' obviously cheerful arrogance a clear sign that things could work out if they were careful. The Elite Hunter Commander stood, turned to Iota, and while opening his mouth to say something, disappeared. His body seemed to liquefy, and shot upwards, through the roof, but did not shatter the ceiling. Pure energy moving at ballistic speed upwards to the clouds above. [center]--------[/center] "Demos just disappeared!" Two heads snapped up and a door swung open widely. Havoc walked up quickly, still carrying a slight limp, and grabbed Iota by the shoulders forcefully. "What do you mean, 'disappeared'?!" the Hunter shouted. Iota shook her torso vigorously, forcing Havoc's hands off of her person. "I mean exactly that! We were talking, he stood up, went to say something, and just warped away." "Like a teleport?" Proteus chimed in, stepping closer, but not much. "No, it was like a plasma shot. He distorted in figure, and blasted straight in the air. Through the roof, but not physically." Warlock slowly stalked forward, muttering slowly; "Automatic recall. Something only one of three people could do. Used when a creator, or someone with access to the direct energy signal of a robot slash Reploid, either needs or wants an immediate audience with said machine." "So, what do we do?" Havoc asked, a hint of rage growing in his voice. "Nothing. There is nothing we can do at this moment about such an act. He will return if he can," said Warlock, shaking his head slowly. A long silence ensued.[/size]

"...In other news, massive amounts of homicides were reported today, seemingly from teenagers claiming their parents hated them, gave them "stupid and retarded" names, and promptly commited various acts of violence, ending with total genocide. In a related story, a young Texan man was seen torching a supermarket, screaming about 'crapmonkies'..." My sentiments on more than half of the responces in this thread. If I had a daughter, I believe I would name her Melissa, or perhaps Anna. I've always like those names, for some odd reason. If I had a son, what a twisted son of a ***** he would be. Oh, wait, what are we talking about? ... Ah, names. Right. I guess Blaine, Gus, or Erich. Blaine, for my grandfather; Gus, a good friend of mine killed a few years ago in a car accident; and Erich, for what my name should have been. [QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Arch [/i] [B][size=1][b]Seth[/b]- It's not too strange, yet not too normal. Seth or Set is the Egyptian god of chaos too, so... [/size] [/B][/QUOTE] If you want to name him after the Egyptian God of Chaos, then it is spelled "Set", my seemingly confused friend. Only an orangutan would spell it honestly with an 'h'. :whoops:

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Queen Asuka [/i] [B][color=hotpink][size=1]...I wish that I had dated them...[/color][/size] [/B][/QUOTE] So do I. Would have lead to many interesting..."stories". :D But really, the pictures are very nice. =)

The fact that Tori painted horny twins and an even "hornier" Capricorn [Get it? She has horns. Hahahahaha."] gets this an "awesomeness" award. A wink and a nudge to the Queen. *bows*

"Oh, and you may only vote for one individual in each category. So, choose wisely. Any vote that fails to follow this, or any other rule will be disqualified." I'm assuming that means no voting two more more persons for one actual Award? [i.e., "[b]Overall Member of the Year:[/b] Charles, James, Shy, Sara, Nerdsy, etc., etc., etc."] [size=1][b][u]General Awards[/b][/u] [b]Overall Member of the Year:[/b] Charles [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] jblessing [b]Male Otaku of the Year:[/b] James [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Charles [b]Female Otaku of the Year:[/b] Queen Asuka [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Sara [i]Wit, wit, wit.[/i] [b]Staff Member of the Year:[/b] Shy [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] jblessing [b]Funniest Member:[/b] DeathKnight [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] PoisonTongue [b]Most Opinionated Otaku:[/b] Harry [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] wrist cutter [b]Member most likely to be here in two years:[/b] Adam [i]Of all people, how can you all not mention the Prince?[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Shy [b]Best Newbie:[/b] N/A [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Best Oldie:[/b] Ajeh [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Justin [i]KAMAKAZE[/i] [b]Most likely to become a Staff Member:[/b] PoisonTongue [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Favorite Banned Member:[/b] Forte [i]Oh, COME ON![/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] kuja [i]omg lol...;) ;) ;) omg[/i] [b]Most improved Member of the Year:[/b] Baron Samedi [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Thread of the Year:[/b] "What is your favorite type of sock?" [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] "Pro-life pro-choice, let's be mature, kay?" [i]Or however it went.[/i] [b]Silliest Thread of the Year:[/b] Anything started by Weh [i]Break, that is.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] AJ's old "Mallot Man" comic [b][u]Random Awards[/u][/b] [b]Avatar Award:[/b] Charles [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] James [b]Signature Award:[/b] Sara [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] DeathKnight [b]Best Location:[/b] DeathKnight with "Stalingrad" [i]Gotta love a location that was the site of one of the biggest sieges in WWII.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Piro's "In a pond too small for this goldfish" [i]Or however it goes.[/i] [b]Best Otaku Couple:[/b] PiroMunkie & Queen Asuka [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Charles & Japan_86 [b]Best looking Otaku:[/b] PiroMunkie [i]=*[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Juuthena [i]I sure reckon.[/i] [b]Otaku clique of the Year:[/b] "Burner of Christians" [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Best MyOtaku:[/b] PoisonTongue [i]Serious debate, wit, sexual references, and random MGS quotes? What's not to love?[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] James [b][u]Otaku Writers[/u][/b] [b]Poet Laureate:[/b] Mitch [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Charles [b]Writer of the Year:[/b] TVE [i]I enjoy his artful, yet sporadic works.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Orginal Story of the Year:[/b] "How The James Stole Christmas" by Dragon Warrior [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] The "Maverick Hunters" series, originally put forth by Final Flash and Warlock, with the greatly extended helping hand from James, and a witty comment from yours truly. [b]Role-Player of the Year:[/b] Final Flash [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Warlock [b]Brawler of the Year:[/b] Chaos [i]I am God, afterall, you see.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Charles [b]Role-Playing Game of the Year[/b] Maverick Hunters: Personification [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Another Online World [i]It had some sur-title, but it slips my mind.[/i] [b][u]Social Otakus[/u][/b] [b]Otaku Social member of the year:[/b] Sara? [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Entertainment Otaku of the Year:[/b] Transtic Nerve [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] DeathKnight [b][u]Anime Otakus[/u][/b] [b]Otaku of the Year:[/b] Shy [i]He puts up with all of that shit, so, you have to give him credit. Plus, he knows what he's talking about.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Queen Asuka [b].hack//SIGN Member of the Year:[/b] OtakuSennen [i]I suppose.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]DragonBall Guru:[/b] PiroMunkie [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Jinzouningen17 [b]Digipeep of the Year:[/b] Digital Monster [i]I'm grasping at burnt straws, now.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Gundam Member of the Year:[/b] Final Flash [i]Who remembers the Gundam Girls? I sure do. ;)[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Yu-Gi-Oh Member of the Year:[/b] Solo Tremaine [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Kakashi? [i]Another straw. Wee.[/i] [b]Least Disappointing Yu Yu Hakusho Member:[/b] Luminaire [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Dagger IX1 [b][u]Otaku Gamers[/u][/b] [b]Gamer of the Year:[/b] DeathKnight [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Charles [b]Nintendo "Mario" Award:[/b] James [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Shinmaru [b]The Sony Award:[/b] Charles [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Sephiroth [b]Xbox Gamer of the Year:[/b] NorykoAngelcry? [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]PC Gamer of the Year:[/b] DeathKnight [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Spikey? [b][u]Otaku Artists[/u][/b] [b]Best Graphic Designer:[/b] James [i]I really love when he goes into geometrical shapes. It always comes out wonderful. ^_^[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Syk3 [i]Dark-Sky, I should say. O_o[/i] [b]Best "Traditional" Artist:[/b] Sara [i]I don't know why, but I just like her drawings.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] PiroMunkie [i]Usually dark, depressing, JtHM-type picture. Just adore it. Or something along those lines.[/i] [b]Best Spriter:[/b] Dragonballzman [i]Hail to Shane. lol.[/i] [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Warlock [i]He used to sprite, at least.[/i] [b][u]Series Otakus[/u][/b] [b]Series Otaku Member of the Year:[/b] Desbreko [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]Square/Enix Member of the Year:[/b] Break [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Sephiroth [b]PokéPlaque (Pokemon):[/b] Lady Katana [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] N/A [b]The Triforce Award (Zelda):[/b] Desbreko [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Valen? [/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Baron Samedi [/i] [B]Also, gain complete control of flying helicopters on BattleField 1942. That is important. [/B][/QUOTE] I'll assume you mean "gain complete control of flying helicopters on Battlefield 1942 [i]mods[/i]", since there are no helicopters in BF1942. In BF: Vietnam, yes, but not 1942. My Resolution is to burn more kittens. And I am deadly serious.

The color scheme comes from thunderclouds. Blue-white lightning, black clouds. Often referred to for ominous settings. Plus, yellow and red would looks really ugly in this picture. Not to mention it doesn't suit revenge. Even a dark yellow is still a shade of yellow, most commonly associated with sunshine and happiness and such. Also, the words are on different latitudes because it represents Vegita's own mind; distorted and chaotic. It's not linear with him, and it never was. There are so many levels to Vegita, and such, what results from him are also varied.

Baron; If I cropped his face out of it, it wouldn't look right to me, and that's what matters. And there is a small, black boarder. You can see it better at the upper right corner, shown by the change from his hair to, well. A black line. And yes, it's all the way around. And you are supposed to read it literally, left to right, not upper layer and then lower layer. Plus, the only things it says is "To seek [linebreak] Revenge [linebreak] Is to seek [linebreak] Purpose", and that's it. No other words. Which also brings me to my next point; a lack of a signature. Some of you who may be familier with my past banners are noting the missing "Chaos" in the [i]Anything You Want[/i] font. That is because I do not plan on using it. I just made it to start myself up again.

Actually James looks more like Syk-Blob than Mario. :toothy: "And got a hernia" Classic. And like Piro brought up, you get extra point for noting [i]A Nightmare Before Christmas[/i]. Of which I will be getting the game to...as soon as they release it, that is. O_o;

I get this problem a lot. I think it may be due to the color and Gamma of this monitor is royally screwed, but it reads "To seek Revenge Is to seek Purpose". I was finishing Budokai 2 up [beat it, getting all characters, including fusions, in under ten hours! Hah!], and The Matrix: Reloaded was on in the other room [specifically Smith's monolouge about the connection between himself and Neo], and that just stuck in my brain. So when I saw that picture of Vegita, the thoughts of how he got the crap kicked out of him in the Buu saga just warped in my mind, and I got that image. So I created it in Photoshop in five minutes. Weh-boo!

I don't know where this one came from. I was just minding my own mind, browsing MajinPlanet, and I saw the base picture, and BAM. The idea just blasted into my brain. So eh. Enjoy, I suppose. This is, yet another, attempt to get back into the swing of making banners.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Justin [/i] [B]...I see as the act of stupid, horny freshmen. [/B][/QUOTE] Hey, I resent that, buddy! Anyway, the main claim of the anti-PDA rules is that PDA causes distractions. Know when most "stupid, horny freshmen" act such? During class? No. Homeroom? No. Assemblies? No. Lunch and changing classes, folks. That's when it happens, over eighty percent of the time. What is the distraction if you're walking to your locker and you grab your girl's ***? What is the distraction of sharing lunch [in creative manners] with your one and only? Actually, I find that teachers screaming out "PDA! PDA! GO TO DISCIPLINE!" more annoying and distracting than a girl giving her man a nibble on the ear. And Harry, look at it this way; we can learn academics and Sex-Ed all in one day. Haha.

Aww. Megaman.EXE. Everyone is down with the new crap? Why can't anyone just stick to the old-school goodness? But the picture is [i]very[/i] nice. Nice coloring, detail, and shading [or lack of thereof]. Color pencil?

I believe they are, Harry. And who gives a flying **** of what pronoun a person used in a FAKE_LETTER? I'm curious as to WHY we're going off on a debate that is so obscenely stupid, due to it's basis of a message written for comedic purposes, in a topic that is inherently spam?

I would like to just mention that nearly all forms of martial arts only work as effectively as you see in the movies...in the movies. You get surrounded by a gang on the street, and bust out with some crazy pose, you know what is going to happen? Someone behind you is going to pull out a gun and blast you to hell. And when actually fighting, it doesn't work as well, either. I know this for a fact. Because I've had a guy try it. Fast but light hits, that's what most martial arts are about. Doesn't work if you're a fan of boxing. A flying kick is easy to avoid; a simple sidestep and you can clock them in the jaw when they go past. All of these things you see with Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee and Jet Li is with trained professionals and stunt cannon fodder. You enroll in karate for a month or two and take on someone who has been living in an urban area for a good portion of their life, chances are, you'll end up with a shattered jaw and a broke nose. Simple as that.

I seem to remember this being posted some few months ago. And I seem to also remember whoever posted was a complete idiot. A waste of time. The "letter" isn't funny, seeing who is stupid enough to actually have believed it is, though.

Well, there was that explosion a mere few minutes after Bush gave his speech, but whatever.

A shame Cloricus couldn't put his voice to good use, eh? Like heating my house. My myOtaku account sums it up fairly. Do check it out. I would copy/paste it, but I'm a lazy, good-for-nothing.

...I am deeply disturbed. And somewhat interested. Although the disturbed part of me is kicking the ever-living sh-- out of my interested side, I will, for the sake of others, ask you to continue. [strike]God help us all, he's putting up a bad lemon.[/strike]

Haha, Sem. That and Dancing Hitler made me laugh. I'm a vivid lover of "eye for an eye." If you shoot someone, you should be shot. Stabbed someone in the face? You get stabbed in the face. And all that deal about mentally retarded people? They should get the same treatment. Call me a bigot and all that ^#%* if you want, but that's the way I feel. A life for a life. No matter what, aside from self-defense, if you strike first and kill a person out of malice, you should die. Which would also be a problem for me if I go insane.

Havoc sat up, groaning loudly, watching the others just walk on past. He leaned to the left, using his arm to raise his body, and brought his legs under his body. He stood slowly, his body weary and his joints straining. "Gee, thanks for all the help, you guys," he wryly muttered under his breath as he continued to stagger his way to the garage. By the time he got there, he had caught up to the others as they just stared at Demos. An intense light bore into their eyes, bathing the room in harsh glare from the crystal lodged in his armor. It was prism-like, a radical variety of colors dancing along the walls and benches and tables. There was a wispy whine of a high-powered, incredibly focused power source from his internal system. Havoc pushed past the others, with their dull eyes and battered bodies barely containing the wonder of the event in front of them, picking up a lead pipe on the ground in the process. He approached his brother quickly, and drew his arm back. A slight yelp came from Proteus as Havoc swung hard, and the pipe connected solid with Demos' forehead. The luminous crystal died out immedietly, and the leader of the Elite Squad sat up from his slouched position, and grabbed his skull forcefully, his hair messily pinched between the fingers and a slight trickle of blood ran down the side of his nose. "OW! Havoc, that [b]fucking[/b] hurt, you ass," which, of course, came from Demos in a very loud scream. Havoc tossed the bent pipe to the side, and held his hand out for his brother. Demos took it, and stood carefully, a wobbeling a little to side to side. "Shit. What did I miss?" he croaked out, looking at the others with his right hand over the spot where he got clocked. [center]----------[/center] Demos sat in the room where Proteus and Havoc were in earlier, on the mattress, going over what he was told of the battle after he got cold-cocked by Massacre. He heard the noise downstairs, the dismantling of the cyborg. Warlock was scraping the body, looking for useful parts, apparently. Much of the commotion was muffled throught he walls, and the conversations were understood as mere blurbs which could be heard over the din and through the sheetrock. But after a minute or two, Demos focused solely on what Havoc had informed him of of when they found him. It was true, after all. He could obtain the power nessacary for the Titan project. The program that would allow him to willingly manipulate energy signals and projections of that energy to various degrees. Work needed to be done, and done fast. He glanced at the crystal gem on his helmet's forehead. It shined with an inner glow, a very bright and pale blue. He then lowered his head down at the crystal in his armor. It had slowly reformed the holes in the cracks over the past few hours. Work needed to be done [i]very[/i] fast. Footsteps softly clodded up the stairs, and a brief knock later, Proteus opened the door. "Demos, how are you?" Proteus asked quietly. "Hah. I've been through more shit than a single cyborg," was the arrogant-toned responce he got. Proteus just smiled. "Good to see you're doing just fine. We need you downstairs though. We need to work on our plans," Proteus continued. "Sure. I'll be down in a minute." Proteus nodded once, a distracted look in his eyes, and then left. Demos stood up after a few seconds, ran his hand through his hair before leaving the room, walking quietly down the stairs.

[i]SECTION A In the following section, please answer each statement with one of five answers: A) Strongly Agree B) Agree C) Somewhat Agree D) Disagree E) Strongly Disagree[/i] 1) I find OtakuBoards rules easy to understand and follow. [i]A[/i] 2) I feel that the staff at OtakuBoards understand their job and are capable of performing it appropriately. [i]A[/i] 3) OtakuBoards is easy to navigate. [i]A[/i] 4) OtakuBoards has a friendly atmosphere. [i]B[/i] [i]SECTION B Please try to keep your answers relatively short in this section.[/i] 5) How often do you visit OtakuBoards? [i]Daily, if possible. No less than three times a week.[/i] 6) Do you feel that the rules are too strict/not strict enough/fine as they are? [i]Not strict enough, in some cases. For the most part, they are fine.[/i] 7) Should we continue to uncensor the creative writing areas on OtakuBoards? [i]Of course.[/i] 8) Would you rather a decentralized forum system on OB (more forums, less activity per forum) or a centralized forum system (less forums, more activity per forum)? [i]It is fine the way it is now...[/i] 9) Would you like to see a closer integration of myOtaku and OtakuBoards? [i]Somewhat. Not too interested in this as much as getting OtakuBoards Seven.[/i] 10) Are you signed up to myOtaku.com? [i]Technically, yes, but MySQL errors prevent me from participating in anything myOtaku related.[/i] [strike]11) If you are not signed up to myOtaku.com, do you plan to sign up in the near future?[/strike] 12) Do you read Announcements at OtakuBoards? [i]Of course; I have to.[/i] 13) Which single Category (Category, as opposed to individual Forum) do you spend most of your time visiting? [i]Otaku Arena.[/i] 14) Do you think that OtakuBoards should offer an in-built chat system as part of our service? If we included a chat, would you use it? [i]And have more idiots acting stupid? No. And no, yet again, to the second question.[/i] 15) If we offered an "OtakuBoards Wireless" service that would be accessible via Internet-capable cellphones, would you use it? [i]If I had a Internet-capable cellphone, maybe.[/i] 16) When we offer a next generation version of OtakuBoards, should we continue to provide semi-regular community events in our Event Arena or a similar forum? [i]A regular update of events would bring a stronger sense of community.[/i] 17) If you could add one new Category (Category, not Forum) to OtakuBoards, what would it be? [i]Otaku Public Bashing?[/i] 18) If you could remove one Category from OtakuBoards, what would it be? [i]Otaku Series.[/i] 19) If you could add anything to OtakuBoards (in terms of a new forum, a technical tool/feature, etc), what would it be? [i]A working Theme Song option would be nice. So would a Signature Preview after you edit your profile.[/i] 20) On a scale of 1-10 (1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest), how would you rate your experience at OtakuBoards since you registered? [i]Nine, only because I am still haunted by images of the PRP. *glares at Warlock.*[/i]

Are you kidding? Louisiana and Iraq have [i]tons[/i] of things in common! For one, Louisiana has many forested and swampy areas, gets a lot of rain on average a year, has to deal with hurricanes and the such, and Iraq -- ...er. Well. Um. Let's move on, shall we? *hopes this lightens your mood a tad* Law of averages says your husband will return home fine..and then you will experience a shortage in money due to spending of maternal wear. :D [Please don't take any offense to that, I'm just trying to get a laugh. x.x;;] Honestly though, I would say the best of luck to both you and your husband. Just constantly remind him that whatever conservatives say, this war is needed. And even if he doesn't agree to the war, he must fight for you. Without him and other U.S. soldiers in Iraq, the danger of more attacks on U.S. soil would significantly rise. Write him often, don't be afraid to pass on the small things, and cherish what he tells you in his responding letter. Also remind him that standing in the open with a M60E0 blazing against Iraqi guerrillas will not get him the Medal of Honor, but rather a bullet in the head; use your training. If I was a praying man, I would say a Hail Mary or two, and maybe an Our Father. P.S.: Troops are sent to Fort Polk because it is quite an extensive training base, and has setups for excellent war games with our lush enviroments here in Louisiana. Also, it's right by the Gulf, which makes it easier to ship soldiers out.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Valen [/i] [B]...Chaos started something with these AIM convos in the sigs, so you can thank him for the idea, lol.[/B][/QUOTE] But mine were witty and only a few lines long. Others decided to put their entire thesis in their sigs after that. But yes, I did start some sort of craze...what? Two years ago? Jesus, it's been that long? x,x; [QUOTE][i]Originally posted by BabyGirl [/i] [B][color=deeppink][/color][b][size=5] [color=red]Those[/color] [color=purple]things[/color] [color=teal]are[/color] [color=indigo]simply[/color] [color=deeppink]MURDER!!!!!!!!111![/color] [color=black]on[/color] [color=seagreen]the[/color] [color=orange]eyes[/color] :drunk: :flaming: :demon: :therock: :worried: :eek: :tasty: :wigout: :laugh: [/size][/b][/B][/QUOTE] MY ------- EYES!!! *head explodes* Eh, I generally don't have a problem with huge sigs, as long as they don't include something along the lines of what Jenna so boldly created there. And even then, I just scroll past it. I'm not so vain that I get worked up over losing two point five seconds of my minute on some newbie explaining their biography. Odd, you would figure it would piss me off extremely, eh?