Chaos

[b]Kenratu:[/b] "And how can I rest assured that you will not use it?" [b]Ikturu:[/b] "You have my solumn word." [b]Kenratu:[/b] "Your word is as good as a human's." [i]Silence befell the pair as their eyes stabbed into each others'. Abruptly, after a few moments of the posionous gazes, Kenratu stood up and turned to walk away, sword resting on his shoulder.[/i] [b]Kenratu:[/b] "I know that mages are about. They won't be able to mature unless they have someone to teach them. Without a guru of some kind, they are as helpless as any other sheep." [b]Ikturu:[/b] "Ah, but one DOES know how to help them along." [i]Kenratu stopped sharply, but did not turn around.[/i] [b]Ikturu:[/b] "That's right. One of them recognized what I am. If she was old enough to know what I am, then she is very well old enough to know how to fight us." [b]Kenratu:[/b] "The one that nearly shot off your wing?" [b]Ikturu:[/b] "Yes." [b]Kenratu:[/b] "... ... ...Then we shall need all that we can muster. Which is why I need you here. And why I am going to retrieve Amatros. Conserve your strength, Ikturu. I will keep the bind on you until we leave. After that, I expect you to follow orders. Once our numbers grow just a bit more...you can go North if you truly want to. Give me three days to pull more through the gates. By that time, I should be able to allow you to do your wishes. However, if we take significant loses...then I want to keep you here. Is that clear?" [b]Ikturu:[/b] "Crystal." [i]With darkening eyes, Ikturu turned away from the Shade General, who continued South, in search of the dragon, Amatros...[/i] --- --- --- --- Elsewhere --- --- --- --- [i]Amatros landed with the pyramid in front of him, facing South. It was coming upon noon, and he had to act quickly. He flew up once more, eyes glistening with anxiety. He let out a small burst of flames, covering the very tip of the monument with the napalm-like substance. Landing directly on the tip of the pyramid, then, body arched, he shot forth flames and made a complete circle around the pyramid. He then made a line, going south, from the edge of the forest to stop at the entrance of the pyramid. The beast landed at the tip of the line, grazing the forest's edge. He waited, in silence, concentraiting. Nothing moved. Only the crackle of fire could be heard, and even that was eventually eaten up by the harsh silence. Noon struck, and right at that moment, a pillar of fire, a tornado of flames, formed around the pyramid. It was as if it just appeared out of thin air, and it had exactly done so. Amatros' head snapped back like a howling wolf, only his cry was a raspy bellow of rage. His skin on his stomach ate away, melting into a puddle on the ground. It ran into the line of fire, but did not burn. On quite the contrary, the flames parted way for it. The lump of flesh slid forward, as if on a slant, flames bending out of the way. Eventually, the blob came to a rest at the edge of the raging, flaming tornado. Then, like a curtain pulled away for the start of a play, the bottom of the pillar curled away, and the mass of skin moved through. The liquid-in-movement fire melded back together, and lightning rained down from the cloudless skies. A solid minute passed, and with a shocking abruptness, the fire disappeared, as if it was a lit match suddenly touched with the oceans of the world. From the smoking ring of wavering air, a lone figure came from the pyramid doorway. He was dressed as if he had stepped out of fuedal Japan, except he was Ikrantu. His blood-red crimson pants, styled after ancient samuri, were stained so with blood. Blotches here and there were darker, and some faded. Light scars crisscrossed his face and body. At his waist was a scabbord, and in it was a straight sword, modelled after a katana. He stepped forward, ignoring the heat. The tribal red tattoo on his forehead closely resembled a dragon, and his eyes were a sharp crimson in color. His hair, however, was a pale white, contrasting his body greatly. Who could this be?[/i] --- --- --- --- Meanwhile --- --- --- --- [i]Kenratu's trip through the woods came to standstill when he saw the beam of fire, reaching to the heavens. Even after it's disappearance, however, he was still struck in the face by awe.[/i] [b]Kenratu:[/b] "This can be either very good, or very bad. I must hurry." [i]Saying his words, his wings shot out, and pushed him off the ground. Speeding into the noon air, he travelled easily at 150 KPH, and soon, the pyramid came into view, when suddenly a drastic change in the flow of mana hit him. The evil energy coming from the structure literally stung, and he recognized a force he had not felt in over two millenia...[/i] --- --- --- [b]Name:[/b] Arano [b]Race:[/b] Shade [b]Age:[/b] 4,147 [b]Weapon:[/b] [i]Deloz Fury[/i] -- Quite literally just a straight katana, forged from the fires of Hell and imfused with necromatic mana. [b]Supernatural Power:[/b] Aside from suprising speed and strength, he can charge his blade with necromatic energy to issue a devistating explosion upon contact with the blade; Murtaku no Uki. He can also slow time considerably at will. He speed does not increase, like Ikturu's. Rather, everything within a thirty mile radius slows, in scale, with the exception of himself. If used for a very extended period of time, he is worn out considerably, and must rest to regain his mana; Kurtu Kitzu. [b]Bio:[/b] Born in a part of the underworld based upon Oriental roots. At the tender age of five, he killed his first human, of whom stabbed his father with a dagger. Since that day, he has often been referred to as the 'Manslayer'. Upon maturing, he trained heavily with his father's blade, using it's powers to their extent. It was around when he reached his second century that he joined ranks with Kenratu, training intensly. They considered themselves to be good friends, but in a battle of the underworld, some spies framed Arano in an assassination attempt. Moments before the last battle, Kenratu's base torched, as his foe's was, Arano confronted his general. He explained the situation, and volunteered to lead the charge to his enemy's frontline to prove loyalty. When the day was done, Kenratu's war won, Arano was not seen. He was thought to have perished in the fight. Apparently, it is not so now. [b]Description:[/b] As mentioned before, Arano is dressed much like [i]Kenshin[/i], just no shirt and Shade-ified. He is a deadly, silent killer with a passion for killing humans. Sadist yet a controlled muderer, he virtually has no temper at all. Since he can keep his cool in battle, he is an effecient killer of humans, or anyone that dares cross him for that matter, thus earning him the title of 'Manslayer'.

[i]The Agent's fist came around in a right cross, and missed wholly. Neil had jumped back, speed suprising this Smith clone. However, an Agent was not to be outdone so easily. He jumped forward, right knee extended. His cap met with Neil's chest, knocking him down swiftly. Using unmatched grace, Agent Smith recovered himself and backflipped, only to jump forward again. This time, his right shin came across Havoc's neck, forcing a stifled groan to emit. There, in the dead-end alley, it seemed that the Agent would have this fight. But it would only seem so if it wasn't for that Neil's .50 Desert Eagle hadn't been within arm's reach. With that trademark sneer, the Smith clone reared his right fist back, uttering the classic "Goodbye, Mr. Levia." However, just as he finished the sentance, he felt the cold steel on the side of his temple... The frighteningly loud gunshot echoed itself into nonexistance, rebounding off of the solid brick walls. The empty casing fell to the ground with a faint 'klink', and rolled away. The body of a pizza delivery boy lay next to Neil, not that of an Agent. Cursing, Blank stood up, holstering his Desert Eagle in his pant's lip. He staggered over to the back corner, digging through a pile of garbage. Suddenly, Flash sat up, shaking his head violently. He took the banana peel from his face and chunked it away. Neil chuckled, and helped him to his feet, where Flash resumed to remove trash from his clothes.[/i] [b]Flash:[/b] "You know, I miss the good old days when an Agent would calmly stroll up in front of you, and talk first. This ******** of coming up behind you and tossing you face-first into a trashcan just ain't gonna work." [b]Neil:[/b] "Tell me about it. But c'mon, we gotta get back to the safehouse before more show up. I don't feel like getting shot again." [center]______[/center] [size=1][b]Little did we know that in trying to get back to the safehouse that we were heading for more trouble than it seemed could have come from twenty agents...[/b][/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by GinnyLyn [/i] [B]...but careful on that religious bit. You make it sound as if it's only the Christians who do that. :therock: [/B][/QUOTE] Heh. Guess what? I AM Christian. :p It's just that I don't openly practice the faith. Oh well. Ah, TN pretty much said it without the controvercy. Damn, sometimes I wish I had THAT ability. o.<

Okay, if Warlock wants to join, he's more than welcome to. :) [b][u][code=listvalidRPGmembers][/u] Vegitto4 DeathKnight Final Flash The Harlequin Yoda Etarah's Maverick James Myself[/code][/b] As a sidenote, I'd like to mention that this is a very strict RPG. I have a very close plot to follow, and I'll be hinting at it. You'll see a really out of place film noir-type narriation at the end of most posts where I explain this and that. And if I see your performace slipping, I will boot you. In a bloody and violent way. On a lighter note, yes James. Your character is...strange to say the least. But I think it's really bad that as you were first describing your 'Cyan', an image of the Twins popped into my head. I found it ironic that you later spelled that out in the latter part of your Appearance. lol.

No, seriously. It DOES suck major ***. When I try and actually read the text, it does hurt. A lot. And for those of you wondering, it's from 'Wake Up' by Powerman 5000. "Don't be afraid of the future. It doesn't include you. It only removes you." Eh, it sounds good with the music.

I'm waiting on about two people, and once they join/tell me they're not going to join, I'll announce who has made it in.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Justin [/i] [B]Medra, if anyone faulted GTA for anything, it would not the realistic flames. It would be the mission objectives. I, in fact, have made the choice not to play that game. It is pretend, but when I think about it, it's just too pretend. -Justin [/B][/QUOTE] And that's a personal choice that I can respect. But when GTAIII first came out, and such claims were about, it pissed me off. Oh, a parent didn't like it because their fourteen year old son beat a guy that pickpocketed him to death with a baseball bat. Big ****in' deal. It's a game. When Christian mothers [directed to the ones that started all of this ******** about D&D] make a child read a bible all day long, and that child ends up quoting scriptures as he's in a bell tower with a 30-30, who's fault is it? The parents. But if the child happened to play a five minute session of a violent game, suddenly socity lashes out at the likes of Rockstar and Running With Scissors. THAT'S why I'm so aggressive when it comes to topics like that. And Ginny, no. As far as I know, there are no mentally/physically challenged NPCs in the GTA games. And the mission objectives, while a mobster's dream, are simply "Go and kill this enemy who tried to kill so-and-so." or "Go and get this car with a stiff in it and take it to the car crusher." I find it moronic and hurtful that parents try to ban a game just because it's a collection of 1950s gang movies writtin on a DVD ROM disc.

Here's some NPCs... [b]Name:[/b] --- [b]Codename:[/b] 'Frost' [b]Age:[/b] 36 [b]Height:[/b] 6' 2" [b]Appearance:[/b] Dirty gret muscle shirt tucked messily into a pair of beaten, faded, and acid-washed blue jeans. White and red G-Knights, size 14, and tube socks cover his feet up to his shins. [center]_______[/center] Stuble lines his square face and a clean fade frames his head. Ice-blue eyes shine brightly, and his semi-muscular body looks shorter than it really is. [b]Personality:[/b] The friendly, neighborhood computer hacker, Frost rarely sees combat. When he is in a fight, however, his carefree and childish attitude evaporates into a morbid and cold personia. [b]Preferred Gear:[/b] [list][*][b]B.A.R.;[/b] Browning Automatic Rifle, standard military issue, complete with brace legs for rooftop coverfire. Clip holds 45 rounds. [*][b]Switchblade;[/b] A simple, four and a half inch blade that comes out with the press of a button. Razor sharp serrated edge can slice into a brick wall if angled correctly.[/list] [b]Name:[/b] Gus Hamillton [b]Codename:[/b] 'Guy' [b]Age:[/b] 20 [b]Height:[/b] 5' 10" [b]Appearance:[/b] Body-builder frame is encased in muscle, dressed in fire-retardent polyester workout clothes; black muscle shirt, black workout shorts that reach his lower shin, and white ADIDAS running shoes. [b]Personality:[/b] Complimentary sadist and anti-social freak. You can do just about anything to him, say nearly any insult, and he'll take it like a man. But insult his family or his abilities, and he'll lay you our on your ear. [b]Preferred Gear:[/b] [list][*][b]M4 Carbine Assault Rifle;[/b] Military-issue full-automatic rifle, perfect for medium to extremely far range. Thirty rounds per clip. [*][b]M629 .44 Magnum Revolver with laser sight;[/b] "Six bullets means six lives." -'Guy'[/list] [b]Name:[/b] --- [b]Codename:[/b] 'Nyna'; 'Queen of Hearts' [b]Age:[/b] 23 [b]Height:[/b] 5' 7" [b]Appearance:[/b] A blonde Trinity. Period. [b]Personality:[/b] A real flirt, this one. Even in battle she'll bat eyes with her foe as she kicks his head in. [b]Preferred Gear:[/b] [list][*][b]M92 Silenced Pistol;[/b] While like a BB gun from long ranges, at close and medium combat, this gun can blow your skull out of your head. Twenty rounds per clip. [*][b]AKM Assault Rifle;[/b] Perfect for messy assassinations. Twenty-five rounds per clip.[/list]

[b]Name:[/b] Neil Levia [b]Codename:[/b] 'Havoc'; 'Blank' [b]Age:[/b] 23 [b]Height:[/b] 6' 6" [*resumes uuber-tall character stage*] [b]Appearance:[/b] A handsome young man, Neil is a very muscular fellow, with various battle scars and memories. Upon his forearms are lines of flesh, missing, gouged out long ago by passing bullets. On he left cheek there is a small, horizontal line which he got from having a knife thrown at him. Moderatly short black hair is spiked up, naturally, and he prefers the ominous black setting of some of his teammates; black, loose shirt, black carpenter jeans, very baggy, and some good, old-fasioned Combat Boots [Army Issue], size seventeen. On his right bicept there is a tribal scoll going down to just before his elbow joint [ala Billy, RE Z]. [b]Personality:[/b] A rough and tough guy inside of battle, so much so that is how he got his codename, he is actually very lighthearted when not in a brawl. However, cross him once, just once, and you can bet you'll at least get punched in the mug. [b]Preferred Gear:[/b] [list][*][b]Two M11 Silenced Submachine guns;[/b] Two very quiet yet deadly full automatic handguns. Clip size is 70 rounds. [*][b]Two .50 Desert Eagles;[/b] Great stopping power and limited recoil make this heavy-hitting weapon one of Neil's favorites. Clip size is 15 rounds. [*][b]SPAS 12 Shotgun;[/b] Standard automatic shotgun. Nothing special here. Oh, except that it can tears your head clear off at twenty yards. Hold 15 shells before needing to reload. [*][b]Body;[/b] A fan of street fighting before he was awoken, he is considerably the best fighter of the group, since he usually wastes his ammo on anything that moves and due to his great strength, and suprising speed [on a scale, he's even faster than Agents]. He also mixes up his fights with dirty blows and some interesting counterblows.[/list]

The world is a sad, sad place when people get bent out of shape over a game. Hell, I wonder if Christian mothers are ever going to GTA3/GTAVC a "satanic" game because of the effort the developers spent on making the flames realistic. I also can't help but wonder if people who are making up these idiotic claims are ingesting twenty kilos of crack daily...

[center][size=1][b]I still remember that day. He tried to take on a room full of agents, as he had done a million times before. But unfortionatly, this time...it was a set-up. Just as the last foe was hit down, it happened. Deja vu, only about twenty times worse. The building was wired to blow. Not even he had the time to evade that. We were watching him, as he was unscathed from his fight. The coding on the screen scrambled, and we heard him. A single grunt. Then...so sickeningly, his joints just fell off. Left and right arms just dropped on the ground, blood following as if water from a fountain. His legs disconnected from his body, and rested against the chair, strapped in at the ankles. His chest cavity puffed out, and his skin slit open, organs inside turned to mush. His face, the skin of his face, just slid off of his skull. Eyes melted, and we watched in horror as Neo's brain, a soupy river of grey, poured out of every hole in his head. That was five years ago to this day. But we have kept ourselves strong, in respect for The One. We will all fight until the day we die. And up until that day, our sworn enemies are the Agents.[/b][/size][/center] [i]In the past five years, the resistance force has become stronger, faster, more advanced, and smarter. Unfortionatly, so have the Agents. But about three years ago, Morpheus devised a plan. Patches for The Matrix. They would make protected safehouses, where we could be logged into The Matrix, but not have to worry about the dangers of jumping and sentinels. We could still load up, and train, and eat, and sleep. All in protected surroundings. Since then, we've plucked away at the Agents, taking them out in ambushes. It takes time to clone more agents, and that time that we get we added to our numbers. But a month ago,...something happened. A flaw in the patch design, we think. About fourty Agents stormed a safehouse in Atlanta, killing all inside. We originally suspected that the Agents had known of the houses before the attack, but when we ditched four of them once, we realized this to be false. Since that first attack however, they have pried into our transmissions, taking out key positions in order of last radioed engagement. Now, we are one of the last, here, in New York City. We have a plan to end this all. When an Agents is destroyed, he expells a code which is sent to their 'plant', if you will. A plant that stems this wicked and evil leaf. But if the 'plants', the original three Agents are destroyed, then there can be no more reproduction. So we have amassed ourselves, and have had chips inplanted in us. This chip, which not only prevents anyone within thirty feet of becoming one of them, as long as they are in range of the chip, also reads the "piece", or code, that the Agents releases in death. In reading the piece, we can detect flaws in the clone's abilites and exploit them. So far, the plan is working. But the Agents are becoming more and more ruthless and careful. We have gotten to the point where we found one of the three originals, Agent Hill. He escaped however. Unfortionatly, these originals are far stronger than their clones. We can recognize them by the fact that we don't get a read-out on them from the chip, which gives us a mental HUD, so to speak. But we have trained harder, inproved ourselves. The time to strike is now, after a two week lull in attacks. With this last push towards our goal, Operation 'Nightraven' is underway...[/i] Sign-up Sheet: [b]Name:[/b] [b]Codename:[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Height:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]Personality:[/b] [b]Preferred Gear:[/b] [Guns, knives, etc.] And yes, I will be selectively choosing the members that can enter...

Well, I can now say I have found the new game I'm gonna buy... Heh. Just from the videos, it looks like a Max Payne rip-off with the jumping thing, but I like the targeting method and the overall expandsion. It has a nice array of weapons, and it's going to continue me on this film noir kick I'm on. Thanks for the insight, Cyko. I'm going to have so much fun with the executions and disarm moves. Bwahahahah... I love the one where Jack flips the guy over his head as he dives on the ground and blasts him so bad that your foo' gets pushed UP into the air, and then rolls out from under. Hopefully EB will have it cheap for PS2. Speaking of PS2 and Dead to Rights, when did it come out for Sony's dream-machine?

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by ssj3 [/i] [B][color=green]it's a very nice banner. how long have you had it?[/color] [/B][/QUOTE] I made it on February eighteenth, and I've been using it even since.

[i]The bark was hollow and stale in the stiff air. It hung in the peasoup-thick fog like a fly trapped in a spider's silky web. In an automatic reflex, Neil's knife came out in front of him, dully shining in the misty air. When the echo receeded, all that was left was complete silence. Both Neil and Marth had instinctively held their breaths, listening for the crunch of snow underfoot, or the raspy growl of those deformed hunks of flesh that called themselves dogs from eariler. They crouched down, knees bending and backs arching forward. Classic sneaking pose. Marth brandished his gun from side to side, not wanting to have a repeat of earlier. They tried their best to stay quiet as they walked slowly forward, heel first, then gently lowering the bulk of their foot down as gingerly as possible. They inhaled and exhaled through the mouth, carefully, and it was as if someone had turned off the volume on life. Suddenly, a dog's form crept into shape through the fog. It was a real dog this time, not flesh-and-bones. It was sniffing along the ground, ears perked forward. All three came to a halt at the same exact time. As if they were frozen, they peered at each other. Then...the dog turned around, wagging it's stub of a tail, and the shape of a human, in similarity of how the dog came to view, slid through the net of moisture around that town. A half-empty card box was in his left hand, King of Clubs in his right. At his belt was a revolver, a Colt Magnum from a glance. He put the King of Clubs back in the box, and his right hand gently patted the dog. At that, Neil stood upright once more. With a single flick of the wrist, his knife's blade was back in the slit in the handle; lockblades are so cool sometimes. They all stood there, Neil and Marth facing Craig and Munch. A brief wind whisped past, but it left a seering cold in it's wake, and Neil, having no jacket, hunched his shoulders to the wind and shoved his hands in his pockets.[/i] [b]Marth:[/b] "Right. So uh. Hi?"

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Nephroxide [/i] [B]bah, its pretty crappy, its half a tutorial o.0;[/B][/QUOTE] Whatever tutorial you're talking about, I don't know what it is. I found that old method long, long, looooong ago and I've used it ever since. The last time I used a tutorial was at least a year ago.

Well, I'm turning IN Medal of Honor, and I've beaten AA on my friend's PC, so that's out. Same with GTA3. But I'm thinking about getting MGS2 Substance, or DMC2. Ugh. Kingdom Hearts? *stabs the Disneyspawn*

Background and making sure people's eyes bled from the strain of reading the text. Like I said, 45 minutes. It's by no means to replace my Hellbird, but this is just to get back into the swing of things...but it's just so damn hard. I've like forgotten everything. Blah. -_-

...but I really need some help. I've played Vice City, Tekken 3, and MOA: Frontline to death. So I'm going to sell them/trade them in. Here lies the problem; what do I get? There's always SOCOM, but then that's 50 bucks at EB. I'm thinking of getting a shooter, or a long action-adventure game. And if I can get it cheap, maybe a racing game. Suggestions and hints would be helpful [as they are the point of this topic]. Also, a strange thing. You know where you start up your PS2, and it has those transparent boxes floating around? Well, for mine, the boxes are translucent, and you can barely see through them. Can anyone offer any help with this, as it annoys the piss out of me.

Slowly, but surely, I'm getting back into the swing of things. About 45 minutes worth of work...Rate if you feel like it. C&C if you want. Rants, gripes, and flames can be forwarded to [email]BillGates@miscrosoft.com[/email].

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Queen Asuka [/i] [B][color=hotpink][size=1]Just got through laying out in the sun in my bikini. Now I'm sporting shorts and a tank. Yes, spring is FINALLY here! ^_^[/color][/size] [/B][/QUOTE] Spring nothing. Paradise for us guys right there. ;P Anyway..Three things for me just scream 'Spring' for me. [b]1) Advanced testing;[/b] LEAP, IOWA, GEE21, ACT/SAT/PSAT. All that ********. [b]2) Jackets and Hoodies;[/b] I can't wear 'em anymore. -_-;; [b]3) Wasps;[/b] I got stung by one yesterday. But I got revenge. Ripped off it's wings and legs with tweasers and took out my lighter, got some WD40 and...well, you know the rest. ^-^;;;

[i]Neil, shaking with an uncharacteristic weariness, took a glance over his shoulder. Nothing. He took out his pack of Camels, pinched one between his lips, and put the box away. His shivering left hand went into his jean pocket, and the Zippo came out again. It lit this time, strange considering the hurried wind, and he puffed away. He snapped the top back over the flame, and put it in his pocket again. They continued to walk down the interstate. Several hours later, and a dying snow storm later, they treked past a welcoming sign, blackened and twisted faces on the front, and a splash of crimson on the back. Instinctivly, Neil flashed out his knife, keeping it blade-away from his leg at all times. With no snow falling, they could now see objects about five meters away, yet the fog seemed to grow thicker. One used to muggy climates, Neil barely noticed a difference from home. But that was ancient history now. All he wanted to do was see his brother. A faint whistle creeped into the air, and Neil and Marth slowly crept forward. They seemed to be in a residential district, the same, monotone homes on either side. Two stories, brick, A-slant roofs. They were also in complete silence. No laughing children, no cars, no lights. Even the streetlights were gone.[/i] [b]Neil:[/b] "So, wha's this? Magnolia of Perfection, USA?" [b]Marth:[/b] "Hmm?" [b]Neil:[/b] "Heh. Magnolia Ward back home. Bad sh*t, dog." [b]Marth:[/b] "I don't know. Sort of reminds me of The Twilight Zone. Where those two people are trapped in a town all by themselves." [b]Neil:[/b] "Well, we ain't alone, is we? All 'dem dowgs an' an'thang." [i]The continued to walk, and noticed the increasingly commercial feel of the area upon them...[/i]

[i]In response to the laughter, Amatros reared his head back, letting a shrill roar escape from the pit of his stomach. Shade and human alike backed away, only a step or two, but still lost their footing. The noise was just about as loud as a train to an infant, with the same results. Several humans covered their ears, tears streaming off their cheeks. Apparently, until now, the presence of Mykkael was unnoticed by Amatros, but now... The dragon dashed forward, as if some type of giant bat scurrying to eat some minuscule bug. Literally bowling over Shades that had been stupid enough to not move, Amatros shot forward like a ballistic missile. He stopped short some ten feet from Mykkael, and this...human...that stood so freely in this camp. Lowered to the ground, Amatros cried out, a throaty howl, as a pale magma-like salvia curled from his lip and scorched the earth beneath him.[/i] [b]Amatros:[/b] [i]"YOU?! What the Hell are YOU doing here? And why have you not killed this HUMAN?! You know the purpose of your existance!"[/i] [i]Mykkael gave a wry chuckle.[/i] [b]Mykkael:[/b] "It's so nice to see you, too, Amatros. Glad to see you're still as, excuse the pun, fiery as you were so long ago. And the human. Well, he has yet to serve a purpose for me, so until then, he lives." [i]Eyes ablaze with rage, Amatros roared once more, the actual force from the sound waves kicking up dust. Kenratu called the dragon's name, and Amatros' head snapped around, taking flight. He came to a pause over the human paddock, and dropped straight down. One middle age woman shrieked in horror, and tried to dive out of the way, but it was too late. Amatros' hind legs came down first, claws dicing her body into chunks of flesh. As the rest of his body came down, the ground shook slightly, causing some to sway. Howling again as he sent out a jet stream of napalm from his fanged mouth, Amatros torched what little humans lingered in front of him. Kenratu called out, slightly worried this time, and actually flinched when the beast took off again, for he did it with such force that you would have thought the area was subjected to a tornado. Eyes traced the dragon as it flew off into the distance. No one moved. Not an inch....[/i]

[b]Neil:[/b] "But first...need some gas dog. Sh*t be outta gas. You know how far we is fro' town?" [b]Marth:[/b] "That hill up there would normally give us a view. But Hell. This fog, and snow. Why don't we just follow the interstate?" [b]Neil:[/b] "Shoo, man. Straight with me man." [i]Braving the wet flurries of snow, the pair climbed the hill within a few minutes. The first thing they saw was an obleak off-color white. The second thing they saw was the remaining dog. It was across the road, and covered in ice. The beast stiffly ran forward. Marth dove to the side, while Neil simply sidestepped. The dog, in feeble, frosted effort, tried to turn. It's blood-soaked and iced paws slipped on the slick road. As it hit the steel side barrier, it flipped over the railing with a snap, and whined in agony as it crashed below. The two eached calmly puffed their cigarettes and watched the wretched thing plummet, eye brows snapping up briefly when if collided face-first into the tree at the bottom. Neil turned, and headed for the direction he was driving only an hour or two before. Marth soon followed.[/i] [b]Neil:[/b] "Might be dead, but sh*t's still just a fu*kin' dog."

Cloricus. ...Me and Ken already went back to the Ikrantu base. lol. Goofy-sama. o.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Harry [/i] [B]And what does that have to do with anything? World History is too vague of a subject anyway. [/B][/QUOTE] It has to deal with gokents 'insulting' Juu's intelligence. And the fact that she happens to know a lot about the Vietnam war, which gokents brought up. Pay attention, Harry. By the way, American History doesn't dive into the Vietnam War much. Barely goes past the 1950s.