Chaos

Chapter 1: The man that needs no introductions... [size=1][b]I could remember even now how bad off that city was, regardless of the fact that it was [i]improving[/i]. The Leone family Mafia was now, once again, at a full-blown war with the Triads, with me still a marked man on both sides. Who'd have guessed the Triads would still be around in Liberty City after that incident with their fish factory? Guess it was the money plates Uncle Tommy used to have... It was around two weeks after I was released from Sweeny when the bullets came my way once more. Apparently, the gangs found out where I was once again. First it was the Triads just firing off nines in my direction, trying to run me down with cars, etc. Needless to say, the police now had even more use for that little white tape of theirs. But increasingly, I found it more and more difficult to put up with Liberty City. With the Leones trying to get the jump on me, the Forellies constantly trying to enlist me in their ranks, and Uncle Tommy trying to get me down South, things were certainly going to Hell. Moreover, Kelly was becoming a burden on my wallet [not that I didn't have enough money], but she was also a bit insecure. Each time I raised my voice on the phone with someone, she'd start crying. So it happened, her dad used to beat her and yell at her a lot. But by the end of the month [unbeknownst to Kelly], her father now had himself a new Columbian necktie.... By the time Kelly found out her father was dead, though, she was more than uncaring. The insurance policy was plenty to care about. Six million dollars was enough to care about any trouble in the world. In the following week, I found myself in a ritzy estate over in 'Vale, with my new fiancee. Yeah, go figure. The house we moved into and completely renovated turned out to be the former Cartel mansion. To this day I regret having moved into that place, for just the moral horror of it all. But that's a different story for a different time. But since we had moved into the mansion, the Yakuza now decided to watch our every move. I had heard that Asuka was still around, and had completely taken over her late brother's position. How wonderful...three of the most powerful gangs in the entire northern hemisphere were breathing down my neck. This would indeed prove to be a pain in the ***...[/b][/size]

Hell, I beat that one on the first try. In any case, I think, and this is as far as I've gotten in three days, that when you have to beat Hilary in the street race is the worst yet. Sentinel against a Banshee? *shudders*

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by BigCajones [/i] [B]...Has this happened to anyone else, because its very annoying!!! It loads up Vice City and then it says load successful, but just has a plain black screen and i don't know what to do??? Can anyone help me on this one?[/B][/QUOTE] That commonly comes from using too many cheats. Well, I think I'm owning you all right about now. I've only had the game three days, and I own about 90 percent of the city, and I have all of the [good] estates. Plus, I have something to the effects of around 99,000,000 dollars [Gash and Tooled up really hate me now...]. But I think my all-time favorite car is...well, I have to break this up into sections. [b].:Sports Cars:.[/b] Banshee, of course. Mustang combined with a Viper. [b].:SUVs/Vans:.[/b] Gang Burrito. It's like a Rumbo on crack... [b].:Law Enfocrement Vehicles:.[/b] Rhino tank... ...Need I say more? [b].:Racing Cars:.[/b] Hotring Racer #1. I suped mine up with 'Increase car's top speed' and 'Faster Car', each code about ten times each. The dern thing smokes Infernuses and the like like a PCJ smokes a Faggio... [b].:Motorcycles:.[/b] PCJ 600 simply because it sounds awesome roaring uptown in the area north of The Malibu with Cinematic view on... [b].:Helicopters:.[/b] Apache, of course. Too bad I haven't actually USED it yet...--;;; And I'm too lazy to type up everything else...

Eh, you don't need to beat yourself up about it. If something does happen to your cat [God forbid], it wouldn't be your fault. It would be no one's fault. Things happen for a reason, in some shape or form. Whether or not it's good is out of our control. Some signs, however, if your cat did eat rat poison, he'll stagger around as if he would be drunk [I'd bet you'd rather have a drunk cat]. Also, glossy eyes and little responce to noise are other hints, and of course vomitting erradically. ...I suppose working at an animal shelter does have some advantages... What little consolance I can offer, I forward it to you. I doubt there are many pains worse than loosing such a close friend. Edit: Not to sound sour or anything, but should your cat die or become seriously ill, the best thing to do is to realize that it is NOT your fault. You can't be at fault for for something you didn't know of.

After a day or two of playing Vice City [Even though I own half of the damn town], I just now found out how to get the Apache [Damn you Connor for not telling me how before-hand and therefore causing me to nearly die at the hands of the Air Force]. But the point of this is, how in God's ironic name do I make money off of The Malibu and Pole Position. The irony in that is that I bought both places, along with all of the hideouts and most of the other retail locations and yet I can't profit off of them. Oh yeah, where is Sunshine Autos located?

[b]Medra:[/b] "I suppose I didn't actually specify, so I really can't blame you.." !!! "I really think this cave has some sort of magical bonding around it that prevents me from being me." [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"It has some mana flow through it, but nothing what you're talking about."[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Let me guess... Something to do with protection and revealing one's true purpose? ... This tea is like alcohol, I swear. It's making me, not only tired, but it's also giving me that warm feeling in my stomach. Just spiffy." [i]Tarlain giggled silently as Medra stumbled backwards onto the ground. A forceful 'thud' was heard as he fell straight back on his ***. He, however, managed to keep his cup of tea from not spilling. He took a long sip, before tossing the now-empty cup over his shoulder and into what closely resembled a sink. Medra's eyes drooped, as did his arms. His legs came up in front of him, knees bent, as he did anything he could to stay awake. There he sat, on the cool, damp cave floor with his arms drapped over his knees which where now even with his chest. He sat in this fetal-like position, trying to make sure that he WASN'T drunk or that if he was, what was real and what was not.[/i] -- -- -- -- -- Blah blah blah...

[i]A wave ot static ran up Medra's spine as rain made contact with his body. The charge would stay put until the storm ended, or the power would be too strong to contain and most likely kill everything within a ten mile radius. Considering most of the people he needed for his plan to work were within that same ten mile radius, Medra needed to get out of the storm. Tarlain was already reading his mind and slowly began to turn towards th cave again.[/i] [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"Come now, Medra. We wouldn't want lightning to strike. According to your clever thought process, that would be a 'tad' bit of an overload."[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Very well. Just remember that you insisted." [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"You act as if coming into my home is something wrong."[/i] [i]Medra rolled his eyes, his face one of annoyance. Tarlain simply smiled back at him, feral teeth showing clearly under a mock-innocent grin. Mere moments later, the pair were inside the cave once more, the dull atmosphere seemingly to actually calm the Demon God of the Night Skies. Hell, he was even starting to relax.[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd think this place is cozy." [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"Why shouldn't it be? If I can call it home, you would most certainly feel relaxed."[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Are you calling me soft?" :demon: [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"Maybe...maybe not."[/i] [i]Flashing that innocent grin once more, Medra seemed to melt with embarrasment.[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Normally I would punch your head off of your shoulders right about now, but I'm far too relaxed to bother to do such a thing... ...Say, do you have anything to drink around here? Tea perhaps? Maybe even coffee?" -- -- -- -- -- There Rai, I posted. Now you can just shut up and drive happy. *sings that stupid jingle*

[i]Rhino Tanks fired in a systematical line, from the right to the left, the shells arching into the air. The American scouts were blown to Hell. GIs that were farther off were slowly getting picked off by snipers riding on the heavyily armored shells of the Rhino tanks. They were traveling all in all, around fifteen miles per hour. The Soviets had something to the effects of one hundred or so Conscripts running around, forming a barrier between the Rhinos and the Tesla Tanks on the frontline, and inbetween the Apocalypse tanks. Another line was formed between the Apocalypse tanks and the V3s and the solitary MCC. Along with the V3s, however, came a sudden surge of Amphibious Transports. Loaded in them, all thirty five of them, were Flak Tracks, as requested by Arano. Ten of Transports stopped briefly to let out four Flak Tracks each, which in turn released five Conscripts or the occasional Flak Trooper. The ten empty Transports scurried off back towards the base, no doubt to pick up the Attack Dogs Christov ordered. The rest of the transports kept in rank behind the V3s, keeping their cargo incased in titanium. This siege was perfectly put together. Christov's psychic intuition told him where to put what where, and Arano's battlefield brilliance backed that up with pure fighting genius. If the Americans at the Texas line made it past this heaping pile of pure soviet might, it would be by an act of the will of God himself. The American defence line could be seen ahead, along with explosions. Rhino tanks could be seen punching holes in lines of sandbags and GIs. The Grizzly tanks deep within the Allied base would make it too late to save their frontline of protection. Prism Towers charged way too slow to do much damage. The five that were ingeniusly positioned as a pre-attacking system for the base were quickly reduced to smoldering heaps of nothing. Prism Tanks were slowly being produced and released from the Allied War Factory. The ten or so Rhino tanks punched a hole of fifteen to eighteen meters though the front barrier of the American base. The Grizzly tanks, unfortionatly, were half a match for the Elite Rhino Tanks. Backed into a tight death circle, the Soviet War Machines were quickly over-runned by the sheer amount of Grizzly Tanks, but not without taking out their fair share of enemies. Arano smiled manically as he saw the action in the distance. Christov had his head tilted thoughtfully, but his mouth was twisted about in a small smirk.[/i] [b]Flash:[/b] "Well brother, it seems your siege is proving to be successful. But do remember to watch out for those Chronos.. If you don't hit their power plants fast, they might just get the thing working..." [b]Blank:[/b] "You and I both know they don't have a chance. Why do you think I ordered those?" [i]Arano pointed skywards with his right index finger without even raising his hand past his chest. Christov looked up, only to smile smuggly. He was wondering when they would arrive. He counted off silently. Twenty. Just as planned. Twenty Kirovs should be enough. Air and ground strikes systematically should proove to whip the literal piss out of the Allies...[/i] -- -- -- -- -- Can someone get Raiha a date-rape drug..? :p

Yeah, it's like that all of the time now. I can remember spending hours on end killing choppers and SWAT vans as I was trying to get to level 5. But noooooo, as soon as I get to Staunton and kill a few people, my *** gets run over by an FBI Car. --

Personally for me, I take the trails off in GTA3 whenever the character finds those neato shrooms. Adds to the whole 'high' effect. I put them back on when he comes off it. *points to back cover of GTA3 case* You can't beat Red Light District at night when it's raining. So far, that is the best setting I have ever seen on PS2 [seeing as how I haven't played VC yet.] But James, I'll keep in mind to check out the beach and lighthouse at night. If you say it's good, then it usually is. *looks at a screenie of the beach at dawn* Hell, that right there is nice too...V_V

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Final Flash [/i] [B]Same with that Mafioso guy with the glasses pulling the gun out of his jacket... He was on the GTA3 map, but he didn't ever play a part in the game... *shrugs* [/B][/QUOTE] That was a Triad...*points to the dragon on the guy's shirt* --;;; In any case, the girl in the red dress--er, pink bikini is just for looks. Kinda like an unknown chick you would see on the beach and just wanna do her all night long. Kinda adds to that whole wild and unpredicible setting 3 and VC give off.

[i]Vacelslav's office was rittled with papers; documents were thrown across the floor, half-empty folders on his desk to the point that they were at the roof nearly, and sacks of letters were still next to the door. Vacelslav was a stout man, probably weighing close to three hundred pounds. His orange beard, dotted with thick clumps of grey strans of wiry hair, ran down to his chest. He was only about five feet tall, and he wore a faded brown General's suit. He looked up from his endless surge of papers, to see the two brothers standing tensly in the door. He scowled, face turning a nice, cherry red.[/i] [b]Vaceslav:[/b] "Vell, it is about time you two beink showink up. You were to report to me immedietly after your arrivel on this communikations base." [b]Blank:[/b] "We had more pressing matters to attend to, I'm afraid." [b]Vaceslav:[/b] "BOY, DON'T YOU BEINK PLAYINK WITH ME!! WE LOST OV'R 200 CANISTERS OF THE GA--" [b]Flash:[/b] "Yes, we know. Which is why I believe we should send out a force to retrieve it. There is no time to waste. Either we go now, and get back what little of the gas we can, or we risk the Allies moving out and later finding a vaccine for the gas..."

[i]Medra turned away slowly as if to not look Tarlain in the eye. It was happening again. A lump formed in his throat, as he turned back to the Dragouret. When he spoke, his voice wavered slightly.[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Well I... ...Mmm. ...I find that I increasingly find it hard to talk to you without thinking of you. However silly that may sound, I care not; it's true. I fear you may have done something to me while I slept." [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"Fear not, I did nothing to you but merely let you rest."[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Very well. But I do not see how the likes of you can help me. Or rather, [u]why[/u] you would want to help me." [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"Helping you could very well help me. Not to mention help revive my race, and protect the Earth. Plus, you don't want to turn that shade of red everytime you look at me do you?" [i]Medra blushed even more furiously as he went to storm off. But for some reason, he didn't move. Instead, he bowed his head, trying to hide his face's color of cherry red.[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Why do you require my help? Why not let someone who is more comfortible with their...more touchy feelings..?" [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"Because you alone are special...like me. I've gone through you mind. I know that if you were ever to reproduce...your offspring would harbor your power, as well as your abilities.. Plus, you were also designed to never be duplicated and your offspring would be one-hundred percent of the female that you would mate with."[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Glad to see you're having fun running around in my mind. But still, I don't see why... Even though.. Ah, ****. I-...I don't know. You did something to me, I just know it." -- -- -- -- -- Meh...-_-

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Sara [/i] [B][SIZE=1]Ah, that must be it. My eyes automatically skip over leet....[/SIZE] [/B][/QUOTE] Well, I suppose that is a good practice... And Lily...you have to vote for someone. Wait, aren't you grounded again? Ah, Hell. Asuka still owns you all.

[i]A voice swirled around in his mind, grasping his attention for a second. It wasn't the one of the normal voice he often heard in his head, but rather, one that he could not tell if it was even in existance. It said one word; Return. Medra's thoughts turned to what Tarlain had called out to him before. He couldn't stop thinking about her and what she had done to him. But whenever he was reminded with "a silver kiss", he was not filled with rage or anger. Instead, he felt something else. Something he had never felt before. It was a churning in his stomach, but there was no obvious reason for it. Not disease could affect him, and it would seem odd [at least to him] that his stomach would choose a specific moment to evaporate. What was he feeling? It wasn't physically churning, his stomach, but he did feel a rush of blood go to his face as well. His throat clentched, and his hands began to sweat. And it happened again. Just thinking about thinking about that attack made that feeling slam into him like a rocket. His pondering was once again intruded by that unearhtly voice. It called to him again, so he decided to satisfy his curiousity. His body ate away, breaking apart into tiny cubes which shrank into nothingness the further away they got. The cubes never got past a foot from their original position. At the same time back at the clearing next to the lake, Medra reformed, the opposite of how he disappeared. He saw Tarlain instantly, only her eyes and above visible from the surface of the water. With a face of a mix between questioning and anger, he approached the shoreline and knelt down, as Tarlain swam motionlessly closer. Placing his right index fingertip on the water, a gentle flow of electricity gave Tarlain a warm, fuzzy feeling which sent her nerves into a deep relaxation; a sort of an electromagnetic massage.[/i] [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"I didn't think you'd come back."[/i] [i]Tarlain stopped coming closer some ten feet from the bank.[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "..." [b]Tarlain:[/b] [i]"...?"[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "...What do you want?"

[i]Arano took his time in responding to Lethe, taking a long puff from his cigarette, which was pinched between his thumb and his index finger [right hand]. His left hand, however, was relaxed at his side, not merely a split second away from his .45. Christov might have wanted to let the girl have her run of fun, but if she so much as slightly ticked Arano off, she'd be the first person to taste lead from his new weapons.[/i] [b]Blank:[/b] "It's not that we haven't seen that...just that most girls of your...'performance'...try to keep a low profile. Mainly NOT letting their victims see them. And especially not in such a tasteful way." [b]Lethe:[/b] "How lovely. You know my name for three minutes and you judge me wrongly." [b]Blank:[/b] "I judge everyone as I see fit." [i]A few moments of errie silence passed, when Christov finally broke the ice.[/i] [b]Flash:[/b] "Now, now.. Let's enjoy ourselves while we can. Care to join me?" [i]Christov motioned towards a stylish set of chairs at a metal, outdoor table next to a tennis court and a small pool. Christov pulled a chair up for Lethe, before he sat down himself. Arano was still at the bar getting the drinks. A short minute later, Arano had come back, holding two shot glasses and a small pitcher full of ice with a bottle of one-hundred proof Vodka in it. A more powerful, and sweeter, blend than even Taaka Light. Arano knocked back three shots in about five seconds, while dabbing sweat from his forehead, while Christov put up a large table-umbrella so that only he and his brother were shaded, as per-requested that Lethe got some sun. A waitress came up, silent, in a tight, form-fitting blouse that sparkled with tiny specks of glitter imbedded in the fabric. She put a crystal ashtray in the center of the table, smiled briefly at Arano and Christov, before walking away to attend to what little Generals had bothered to show up this early in the morning. It was at this time, actually, that Arano began a conversation.[/i] [b]Blank:[/b] "So, [i]Lethe[/i] was it? As in the drug?" [b]Lethe:[/b] "Actually, yes. Irony is funny sometimes though." [b]Flash:[/b] "Yes, steel-clad memory, correct?" [b]Lethe:[/b] "Yes, in fact." [b]Arano:[/b] "Then you might want to remember what they do to assassins in Russia. Firing Squad. Well, that's if you're lucky. Former-KGB ties are still very strong these days. But anyway, what brings you to select my dear brother as your target? Surely, there are others that must be easier to take a stab at then us?" -- -- -- -- Meh. My brain isn't working too well right now. Sorry if that was dragged-out or I somehow didn't get someone's character right...><

Fools...Ken wants to be evicted. And this damn edit button is working up, so the issue is confused. And Sara, I'm assuming you missed the whole 'Asuka owns you' part...

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by James [/i] [B][color=#507AAC]*votes* Lady K all the way! ^_^[/color] [/B][/QUOTE] NAY! Queen Asuka ownz j00z 4ll!! O_o;;; Plus Ken said he's cry if he wins...

Not to mention that Demos was off on his one story arc. Plus, what makes you think he gives a **** about people he doesn't know? -_-;;; Newbies these days. Total cheesewizzers..o.-

[i]Arano was mainly silent as he walked down the hall with his brother. He needed not speak. His brother knew what he was thinking; he didn't have a good idea about this mission. Something about extreme heat and troops designed for blizzards thrown together did not stir will with Arano. But Christov was mostly confident. They both had thus-far successful track records in the Southwest, but you never know. Even psychics knew that. While you may be able to see people's thoughts, and see possible outcomes of the future, you never really can tell what the future will bring; a human's free will was probably the most dangerious item in warfare. Arriving at the upper-level barracks, the Les frères d'Armageddon went directly to their room, taking what little they had packed in advance in arm. Arano took mainly clothes and extra munition; he wasn't one for not looking sharp on the battlefield or for running out of bullets. Christov, on the other hand, took only his Chrome Suitcase. What was inside of it, was unknown to most. Sometimes, not even Arano knew. Flash changed it about so damned much... Within a few minutes, they were already on their plane and in the air. About five hours later, they were preparing for landing on a secured landing strip at the Soviet-Cuban Operations Base.[/i]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Sephiroth [/i] [B]I think Adam or James should try and organise some sort of meet, something everyone would enjoy, like meeting up to go to an anime convention or something Just a thought though [/B][/QUOTE] Care to pay for it then? ;) :p

Some of the music could be better. Like the 'flashback' music, or the Android theme. But I find that I absolutely love Vegita's theme, as well as Buu's [Both Evil and the Fat-***]. But I remember the original music from DBZ oh too well. Too bad they couldn't make the games' music as good as the series'...:(

[i]Flash opened the door quietly, a slight grin plastered on his face. He instantly looked to the left at the huge meeting-style table. Most of the room was dim, but the table had a soft light over each seat, twenty in all. A small holoprojector was lodged in the middle of the table. But next to the table, some ten feet away in this room that would make a Corperate CEO drool, was a huge hundred foot wide, eighteen foot tall, plasma digital screen with full infrared interactibility. A map of the overall continental United States was show, political lines highlighting the white boarders on the black background. In front of this multi-million dollar map, was a tall figure, relaxed like nothing could touch him. His white General's shirt was unbuttoned, making way for a black undershirt to be seen. Black, baggy Carpender jeans were barely still at his waist, and polished combat boots were tightly laced at his feet. Through his left sleeve, a Hammer was not-so-clearly shown with twisted, gnarly spikes at the end of the handle. Blank turned to his brother, a small, cocky grin stuck on his face. He then turned back to the screen, and held his hands behind his back, fist against fist, remote in his left, ham-sized paw. A click of the button, and a red color oozed over parts of the map. Nearly the entire Atlantic Seaboard was covered in the crimson color, along with most of the Pacific Seaboard. The red color denoted the Soviet's areas of control. Little by little, however, the red color was forced back here, and advanced a little there. The map was in real-time; the complex Communications uplinks delaying the progress of troops by a mere two minutes. Blank finally chuckled slightly, as he turned the screen off with the remote. The view instantly shrank down into a thin line all of the way across. In another split second, the line focused into a tiny dot in the centre, before disappearing. Flash had sat down at one of the more luxurious chairs at the rounded 'top' of the table, one of the only areas where a light did not shine over. Blank silently walked over to his brother, who propped his feet up on the table and stretched back in the heavy-duty leather chair. The briefcase was next to his feet which were crossed over each other. Blank opened the case, and peered at the weapons inside. He looked at the Magnums, aligning the sights more correctly with the angle of the barrels. He set them down in their imprinted spots in the soft, satin red interior of the briefcase. He then picked up his two .45 automatics. The sights, actually, were already in alignment. He took the clip out of the first one, and counted off the bullets. Seventeen. He pulled the slide back, and caught the round that popped out. Eighteen each, just as planned. He put the bullet from the slide back in the clip, and loaded it back in. He pulled the slide back, putting one in the chamber. He holstered his weapons in two miniature holders, specifically to keep the weapons at bay with only the finger guard held. He smiled at his brother, grinning a mix between sadism and innocent delight. Flash rolled his eyes jokingly, before he picked up a secondary remote to the plasma screen, aimed in the general direction of the reciever, and turned on the screen. Blank went and sat at the other side of the table, an exact duplicate of Flash's chair was Blank's usual spot for briefings. Now they only had to wait for the rest of their officers to show up on time [The brothers were early] and they could then begin the next part of this siege...[/i]

OOC: Damn...now there goes the little character development I had planned. -_-;;; -- -- -- -- -- [i]Medra took to his feet forcefully, but his body did sway just a little. He was still be bit weak, but nowhere near what he was before. The cuts and scraps along his face had healed by now, but still, his wings refused to open, so Medra simply got rid of them. With a sickening snap, his wings curled up and into each other. They molded together, as blood poured from them like water from a waterfall. Two slits, near the base of his wings, opened and also gushed a darkened crimson blood, as another series of snaps and cracks rang out, echoing the grotto. The huge, bat-like wings shrank away into nothing in the holes that had been etched in Medra's back. After a few seconds, the gashes healed over, the flesh underneath Medra's skin seemingly thrown together from the sides, and skin slowly crawled over, and left two fresh scars, more wounds for Medra to tell tales about. Finally done, Medra glanced over to Tarlain, who's head was cocked slightly to the left in a child-like amusement. But that all changed when Medra came less than two inches from her face, his mouth twisted about in a snarl. Tarlain snarled back, until she was thrown bodily into the wall of her makeshift home, Medra's right forearm pinning her against the stone across her neck.[/i] [b]Medra:[/b] "Listen closely, and listen well. I will say this once; I am a Demon God. You could do little to harm me, girl. Furthermore, I know you're trying to corrupt me,...or...or something. You're trying to get close. The last person that got close to me tried to poison me. I hope, for your and your home's sake, that you don't make that same mistake." [i]Letting the Dragouret down, Medra turned sharply towards the exit, and dashed out of the cave. Soaring over the pond, Medra came to a lurching halt at the bank. He then continued to walk in the direction he was heading when he had left the group before.[/i] -- -- -- -- -- That one was for messing up my plans...--;;

[i]Medra's mind was whirling like a vortex of pure evil. Thoughts and memories floated inwardly in his dreams. Still in a light sleep, he almost could swear he heard Tarlain actually talking, but no, it was merely his imagination. But he also did hear several spell names rattled off. He couldn't tell whether it was insanity setting in, or just pure exaustion. But he still didn't trust the Dragon girl. Something about the flirty attitude that surfaced underneath her saturine nature made the Demon God suspect trickery and deciet. He would think more about it after he had the strength to stand up once more however...[/i]