Starwind

If your looking for the highest time of year for suicide that would be around the Christmas season. Despite they call it the most cheerful time of year, people sure get awfully depressed during this season.

[B]Name[/B]: Damian "Dam" Ronton [B]Age[/B]: 24 [B]Gender[/B]: Male [B]Race[/B]: Human [B]Appearance[/B]: [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/Swordsman.jpg[/IMG] He has the mark of the oroborus, the tattoo on his left shoulder. This is an occultic mark, that is frowned upon in spira. On his right shoulder is it's counter part, the crimson cross. [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/cross.gif[/IMG] [B]Weapon[/B]: A twin pair of swords. The one in his left with the guard is called Gail and the one in his right is called Torrent. Gail releases bursts of wind and Torrent releases charges of lightining. [B]Techniques[/B]: His two marks grant him the elemental status of the wind, this gives him greater speed and agility in combat. In the heat of combat the two marks glow, the oroborus glowing black and the crimson cross glowing red. He has such abilities as power and mental break. He also has limited wind and lighining magic abilities. [B]Overdrive[/B]: Gail storm. It is a summoning of great wind and lightining. It forms into a huge storm like swirl, drawing all enemies around him into it. [B]Bio[/B]: Demian was born in Kilika. He was raised on the forest life, he learned to fight the fiends that lived in it early on. He took up the dark cult of oroborus worshipers. This was a despised group because they weren't followers of Yeven. His parents were taken by Sin many years ago, this left him with only the cult his parents had given rise to. He took on the task of converting many others to his ways and the group is now 600 followers strong and converting all the time. When he turned twenty he decided to leave the safety of his homeland of Kilika, and go to see some of the great and fantastic things he had heard of from other travelers. He set sail to Luca and became an avid blitzball fan. He went from there to the Mi' hen High road. He tood to the road for a few years, working as a chocobo rancher til he was 23. He then left here and took to the frigid peaks of Mount Gagazet. He built an inn at the mountains peak for the those on there pilgrimage. Few ever even make it as far as his inn, but those who do rarely stay, not wanting to associate with his type, i.e. oroborus patriarch. He frequents the calm lands, always looking for new challenges.

I think I'd have to say, give him the actual pages. I think it would be better for you, and a good, strong message to him. If you keep them, then every time you see them it's just going to dig up old memories, both good and bad. It's time to move on, and I'm sorry if that's a little blunt, but it has to said. Also, if you give him the actual pages, your letting him know that you have really moved past him. That you are finally willing to part ways with him. It'll be hard, believe me I know, but you need to stand strong in front of him. Otherwise, your just going to end up his consolation prize. A place to go when his othet "pet projects" don't work out. I have worked in youth counciling for almost 5 years now. I have seen many relationships similar to your own, and even been on your end of one once upon a time. I know that this will be unimaginably hard for you to do, since you said you do really care for him, but you can't just stand by a guy like that forever. People like that are just looking for some kind of support, and are always looking for a new source of self gratification. If you keep this compassion for him and are always willing to just take him back and sleep with him, then he's never gonna get better and it'll only lead to a long cycle of never ending pain, ultimatly ending in a vicious self-hatred. It's going to hurt for a long time after, but with each day that will pass you wll find that it will subside slowly. At first you'll want to cry and think that you'll neverr be able to stop. But I promise you that it will get better, and once you've done this, someday you'll find the right person. The one who will love you completely and unconditionally. I have found my one and only and I love her will all my heart. But to find this person for you, you have to get beyond the person who is bringing you this long and dreading pain. I'm sorry if this is hard for you, or it seems cruel. I truly do apologize, but I needed to be as honest as I possibly could be with you. My best wishes are with you. Your friend, Starwind

Personally, I do what I can to keep my parents as far out of my love life as possible. Now, if this a long distance thing, then this is going to be a little tricky for you, but if you think your up to it, then I wish the best for you. The best advice I can give you is to keep in contact and keep faith in each other and remain faithful to each other. One of the problems with long distance relationships is that it's easy to stray or become uncertain. All you can do is trust one another and wait for the time to come when you'll be together again. I don't know how old the two of you are so I have no idea how long a wait that might be, but if you really love him, then I say stay the course and always keep in touch. If you want it to work then you can make it work with enough effort for it. Don't let your parents tell you how to live your life. Just do what I do when there trying to tell me that I'm ruining my life. Ignore them! In my life I know I"m going to make mistakes, but you know what? I'd rather make those mistakes, then have my parents hold my hand all the way through life. You should do the same. Do what you heart is telling is right and don't even give another thought to what your parents think.

[B]Screen Name: [/B] Starwind [B]Nickname:[/B] Gene or Outlaw [B]Appearance:[/B] [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/CoolGunman.jpg[/IMG] [B]Personality:[/B] Care free and easy going for the most part. He's very into the idea of taking life one day at a time and not rushing anything. At that token he also doesn't like being rushed to any sort of end and is often referred to as lazy. His taste in music, however, hardly reflects this, as he is into the world of heavy and metal rock music. As such he can be found at most rock clubs and concerts. He does have a soft spot for the little guy and will stand up for the ones who can't look after themselves. He is neither a tough guy or an ego maniac, he's just a laid back guy who kicks the crap out of bullies. He likes to encourage others to try harder, even though he seems to barely even qualify as working himself. He doesn't have many friends but the ones he does have are very loyal and close to him. [B]Weapons:[/B] He packs a pair of handguns. 357 caliber, a nasty weapon to get hit with. He also carries a circular knife (a knife with a multiple blades coming from equally distant angles with all the blades reared out in the same direction) that has three blades on it measuring 5 inches each. [B]Writing Piece:[/B] He walked toward the warm light from the sun rising on the horizon. The cliff was steep and the waters of the ocean glistend with a golden hue. His left arm was begining to feel stiff, as the white light began to grow more vibrant, eminating from his very flesh. The wings on his back, of a beautiful silver color, shimmerd along with the water by the light of the rising sun. Ross stood far behind him, still staring at him. She could only think what he was doing, he needed help, so why was he just standing there enjoying the veiw. Ross held her place there behind the tall oak tree and simply watched him as the light from his arm grew brighter by the passing moment. She wanted to just jump out and smack him for not doing anything. Was this really where he wanted it to end? They had worked so hard, none more then him, to reach this place. To reach the future that now finally belonged to them, and he was going to just let himself fade away without a fight at all! She was filled with sadness and anger at this, but she couldn't bring herself to hit him or even yell at him now. Emilio could feel his arm growing tight, but it was not cold like a dying man should be. Maybe it was because, despite what they had tried to make of him, he was never really a human. This didn't matter anymore, not here. He had reached the end of his road, his goal in which he had spent his whole life in pursuit. He finally felt as if he had done his father proud. Maybe father John Paul was watching him right now from high above and was praising him for his deed. Or maybe he was condemning him for destroying it. In his right hand, Emilio held it's final shard. This was all that was left to tell this bloody tale. Emilio could feel Ross's angerd and mournful eyes at his back. He turned slowly to see her standing with tears in her eyes and her body trembling. He smiled to her warmly and waved her over. She remained still for a moment, but left from behind the tree and slowly walked toward him. Emilio's arm was almost completely comsumed by light at this point. Ross walked up and stood before the ever humble Emilio and couldn't keep the tears from running. all she could think was what had he been fighting for to let it end like this? She took one more step toward him and punched him straight on in the chest. Emilio huffed a bit, but didn't faulter from his spot. Ross kept her fist pressed hard against his chest, her shaky words finally came to her lips "Wh... who said you get to... make this choice? You selfish piece of crap, why couldn't you just let me help you? Anyone of us would have gladly stepped forward had you asked us, and yet..." Her words trailed off a bit "Y... you glory hog! You just wanted to be th.. the big hero, huh? Well screw you then, I hope you get your soul torn back to it's pieces all over again!" Her face once filled with anger now seemed much more regretful. She had said something horrible to him, and now couldn't bring herself to lift her head to look him in the face. Emilio set his hand beneath her chin and lifted her head to look at him again. His face was not filled with the rage Ross had expected, but rather it still held the same warm smile that he had given her before she came over. The taller man moved his hand from her chin and set it on her cheek. Her cheeks are still puffy and her eyes red. Emilio spoke finally "I want to thank you." Ross became much redder and seemed much more upset suddenly. Emilio continued on as Ross's face continued to twist "Me and him were the same. It seemed only right that this end with me and him. I'm sorry if this hurt you, but this is the way it should be. My kind don't belong here, were sins against God, after all." Emilio continued to smile at her as Ross only seemed to grow more upset. Emilio turned his eyes back to the distant horison, back to the rising sun. He then looked back to Ross and asked "Do you remember when this started?" She looked to him and mutterd "Six years..." [B]Notes:[/B] The writing piece is something I've been working on and off on for a little while. It's not very good, but it's the best I've come up with so far, just in case you were curious where it came from. Let me know if you like it or if you want me to change something.

1. Wait and Bleed by Slipknot 2. Happy? by Mudvayne 3. Master of Puppets by Metallica 4. Ugly by Sevendust 5. Photograph by Nickelback 6. The kids aren't alright by The Offspring 7. Stand Up by Trapt 8. Fly From the Inside By Shinedown 9. Drop the Bombshell by Powerman 5000 10. Twisted Transistor by Korn My friends say my taste sucks, but this is my **** right here. I need something to get my blood racing.

Sounds pretty interesting. My favorite book is House of the Scorpion. It's basically about a clone named Matt. He is the clone of a powerful Mexican drug lord known as El Patron. It goes through his childhood leading all the way up to his early teen years. It goes from him being a prisoner to practically leading the house, then to escaping from it, then his eeventual return. I't s great story, I think you should probably take a look into it. It poses a some really good questions and I think you'd enjoy it.

Soul stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't explain why, but he felt a strong presense just in front of him. He saw and heard nothing, but felt a great pressure pushing at him. His heart flutterd, he felt eyes staring straight at him, like he was being watched, but he was not filled with fear. The warmth that had come to him from the village had returned once again, now it was only inches from him. Soul brought his hand up and reached out as if to touch this invisible presense. The air around his hand grew warm.

Lamia had slept very little during the night, he hardly ever slept period. Like he was afraid to or something. He marched out of his room, he headed straight for the mess hall. The girl from the debriefing the night before was already there, and looked to Lamia as though she were a disappointed to see him. He was neither offended or even took very much notice of this and simply got his breakfast and sat silently for a while. He had two eggs with some toast and a glass of milk. He slowly ate his food like he had a strategy to it. He always kept arm on the table and picked up a single small piece at a time. Once he finished he left and found the same girl from before training against the viper program in one of the simulators. Lamia took to the adjacent one and decided to do the same. He geared himself for combat, he dawned a black leather jacket and black denim pants. He pushed his hair back, leaving only the red and green stains in his hair hanging at his forehead. An electronic voice filled the room "Simulation will commence in 15 seconds." Lamia closed his eyes and set his hand on his berreta. A buzz like power lines filled the room. He looked up to see a lone viper standing before him as the electronic voice reappeared "Simulation commencing." The viper immidiatly took to the ground and burrowed furiously beneath the simulated earth. Lamia stood perfectly still, he could hear the digging of the creature under the ground. When it suddenly came to a stop Lamia's eyes shot open and his feet burst off with flame like rockets igniting. He launched to the ceiling of the sim room. The Viper hurled itself out of the ground to swing for where Lamia had been standing only moments before. Lamia drew his pistol and pointed it for the beast, the tip was glowing with the dark light of the black flame. The room grew cold to the point of freezing, as all heat was drawn to that single point. The darkness was replaced with a white flash. The room quickly returned to normal, as the electronic voice returned yet again "Simulation ended. Target: Eliminated" After the room retuned to normal, one could take notice that the walls of the sim room were strangely changed. They had been obiviously melted, but were also coverd in ice. Like the room had reached unspeakable heat and sub-zero tempratures in an instant. Lamia turned to leave, his legs wiggled a bit as he left. In a simple simulation he had used almost all his energy, now all that was left to do was to wait and relax til mission time in only 2 and a half hours. Lamia sat back down in the corner of the simulator and kept to himself, not returning to his room and not running anymore training.

There are men out there who will do things like that, i.e. find a new girl every week, and of course the nerds who will hang in there to the bitter end. But regardless of that, it's entirely up to the person. Regardless of the crowd they run with, a stuck person would be just as stuck up if they were a nerd, and a nerd would be just as kind as if he were in the "popular" cilque. I'm a mice guy through and through personally. I'm not too popular, but I'm not exactly a nerd either. I'm about where you want to be. As such, I believe your high school status has much effect on your personality or your relationship status either.

Lamia stood in a perfect silence, he was unsure of those that surrounded him and he was not going to move til he was sure. He enterd an empty training room and took to practicing. He reached for his back pocket and drew his lighter. It was a golden zippo, he snapped the lid open and shut over and over again. Then with one quick snap the flame jumped from it. The small crystal on his chest glowed red as the flame grew larger and as it danced his red eyes glowed like traffic lights. Soon flame consumed him and were running down his hair to and legs and every inch of his body. He looked like a demon in the mirror, like something spit out of hell. It was obvious why most people averted themselves from him. His eyes were red and he carried the mark of the diablo on his chest. His body emitted a pure, seething fire, that felt like pure hate. He then drew his berreta pistol and held it in hand. The gun slowly turned to a vibrant red as the metal heated. He set the gun before him as the flame gatherd at the point of the barrel. But as the flame became more concentrated, it became, not red, but a dark black. Like hell had spilled over and was pooling through his feet. And with a surge of heat and flash of light, the flame was gone. It had simply vanished, the room wasn't even hot anymore. It had been as if it had never happend. Lamia was demon, and he knew it. Some hated him, and those who didn't, feared him. They did this with just cause, for he was the spawn of hell. He called on fire and it was like his tool. He had his cursed eyes and that damnable mark on his chest. This was the reason they had forsaken him. Lamia turned to the door and stared on as if he expected someone to come through, but no would. No one would come to him. He was one of there team, but not because they liked him, or even because they trusted him. He was there tool, like the fire was to him. They would use him up, and when he was all used up they would lock him away into storage or just throw him away. Either way, it gave his life meaning, so he didn't argue with it. Lamia layed off against the wall, sitting on the end of his white hair. He continued to look on to the door, like they were coming for him right now. Like if he turned away, he would be attacked by the unseen forces he feared were after him.

I just watched it the other day, and I gotta say I'm impressed.I've gotten myself obsorbed now and I'm presently downloading the 6 and 7 episode. Thanks for tipping me off on this one. I owe you. Thanks Dagger

Soul awoke near the now dead fire he had set the night before. The air was cold with a damp mist and he looked about himself. The fire had once again managed to keep the animals from raiding his camp. He quickly summoned up his power and started up a new fire to heat up some of the eggs he had pillegded from the near by village. He fried them up and preapred himself a meal. He would eat alone this morning, just like everyone that came before it. He was used to the lonliness by now. It was at this time that he realized a pure and comforting light coming from the very fillage he had taken the eggs from. It was like nothing he had ever known before. What was this great light, and this pure energy. He felt himself moving toward the village, to find the source of this pure light.

I don't I feel it's too early if you really love him. I just think you need to ask yourself that, do you really love him. Because you shouldn't say that if that's not how you really feel. I hope you've really done some self exploring before deciding weather or not to say it to him. It shouldn't drive him off, and the only reason it would is if he doesn't love you back or he's uncertain of himself. If you think he loves you back, then I know that's something he would love to hear you say to him. I knew my GF for a 9 months and hadn't even started dating with her. I just knew that I loved her and I knew, though she has a hard time saying it, she loved me back. That's what you need to ask yourself "Does he feel the same?" If you think he does then there shouldn't be a problem.

Name: Seele "Soul" Trondock Age: 45, but appears about 17 Race: Elf Sub-race: Dark elf Personality: A bit of a loner since he his normally shunned out by both of his kinds, the elves and humans. He tries to avoid confrontation and keeps clear of large cities and vilages. His attitude is a bit harsh at time, but he's rarely violent. History: In his childhood, his only veil of protection was his mother. She and he lived in a mountain village, she would protect him by hiding his identity. She was his whole world as a child. He never knew his father, but who or what he was or did wasn't important to him. He was a small child and was a total mamas boy, but what else did he have. She passed when he was ten, it was at this time that the truth would come out. The village was pratically offended at the idea that they had been living with a "creature" like him. They drove him from the village only the day after his mothers passing. They didn't just make him leave, they sent him over the cliff of the mountain. How he survived the fall, wasn't sure. He took to a solitary life and lived in the forests, never going to the viliages he would see, or go home. It was at this junction in his life he would begin to discover his ability for magic. He quickly became proficient in black magic, such as fire and lightining. He slowly developed his white magic for the purpose of healing the wounds that he couldn't get treated by normal doctors. Appearance: [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/Lamia.jpg[/IMG] He has spent his whole life dependent on only himself and tends to avert himself from those who hate him. Who is pretty much everyone. On occassion he has been known to save the lost stranger from bandits, but is often chased off or attacked by the same traveller immidatly after. He often questions wh he does this, but never comes up with an answer, and simply continues to do it.

Name: Rondo Carston Age: 24 Sex: Male Race: Human Alignment: Humans Profession: Vagabond Appearance: [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/Argentosoma010071.jpg[/IMG] Ship Name: The Maddox Class: Cruiser Size: 142.2 metres long, 14.4 beam, Speed: 41 knots Weapons: 8X 135 milimetre guns, 2X 45 caliber guns, 8X 367 mm guns, 8 X 20 mm machine guns, 4 X 533 mm torpedo tubes, 50 mines Armor: Level 5, 5 inches of solid steel plate. The side of heavy ship is embranded with his ensigmia. [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/hagane_index_011.jpg[/IMG] Writing Sample: The winds of the high sea were strong that day, the sky was perfectly blue, not a cloud to be seen. The air was thick with the sent of the salt, Rondo stood at the bow of his ship casting a look on to the distant horizon. Today was another fine day to be on the open water. The warm sun and open air soothed the him. He was the youngest admiral in maval history and held his head high with pride at this fact. He was a strong leader and was well admired by his men who served under him. Suddenly the air whistled. The ship rocked with a powerful blast, and Rondo looked to the distance off off the starboard side. He saw the infamous flying flag of the jolly roger. A pirate ship. He was under manned, but they would still manage. Rondo put out the alert and ten men came to the deck and all standing at attention. Rondo gave his command and the men helmed the guns as Rondo took the wheel and set off. His ship was not meant for combat, but it could move pretty damn fast. The ship rattled with the heavy and machine guns firing as the pirates gave chase them. The ship rumbled and the water burst, flooding the deck. Then there was the sound of shattering and then Rondo was over come with a burning. He had been hit at the helm. He feel to the ground and lost consiousness as the fire rose around him, the ship was doomed and he had failed them. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To this day he knows not how he survived, but he still carries the scars of the tragedy. His days as an admiral were over and he took to a life on the open sea as a vagabond. He holds a deep hatred for pirates and raiders alike. To him they are the scurge of the sea, and he has lost a great many good men to them. His new ship is powerful and is crewed by only himself and two other men who share his hatred of pirates and love of the sea.

Name: Lamia "Chrono" Elsman Age: 23 Gender: Male Appearance: [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/Lamia.jpg[/IMG] Personality: Lamia is a bit introverted and is anti social. He keeps himself secluded and is often over looked. He's not cruel, or mean, or even rude, he's just a bit depressed alot of the time. He speaks only when he thinks there is something worth saying and only acts when he thinks it's the right thing to do. Bio: Raised in an orphanage from the age of 12 til he was 18, he was removed from his parents care due to abuse. What exactly went on behind those walls, is unsure and Lamia refuses to talk about it. The mere mention of his parents or childhood sends him into seisure like fits. In the orphange he lived, at most, an adequate life. He was always a bit discontent from the group, he had no friends and liked it like that. He left that place and made his way through the world like a drifter. He worked whatever odd jobs he could get. He was skilled in many different things and was often sought out by people, but not always for the best of jobs. From an early age he showed the hints of a unique ability, this is why many believe his parents tormented him so. He hides it, but it seems as if people know him no matter where he goes. He has always looked at this "gift", as a curse. Gift- He holds the gift of pyrokeinisis. He holds the ability to create and manipulate flame. The small crest in the middle of his chest emits a vibrant red light and heat to generate the flame he uses. His red eyes glow while manipulating the flame. Weapon: He has a small hand gun and he keeps a lighter on hand for use with his "Gift". He also carries a 6 inch combat knife, though he rarley even brings it out in clear sight. Fear: He fears himself, and the things he refuses to remember.

Kazuma began to walk home for the evening. He was enjoying the cool night air, that was laced with a dull mist. He walked along the endless chain of identical houses, his mind still dancing around the activities of the evening. He was still a little exhausted form all the "work" he had been doing, but he was getting over it. The air was really quite relaxing, and the sound of the cicadas was like a symphony. It always made him feel at peace. He thought on these as he looked down on to the sidewalk as he went along. He slowly brought his eyes up, expecting to see his house near by. But as he looked around he realized he didn't know where he was. He didn't recognize anything, probably because there was nothing other than the sidewalk, which was also begining to fade away. It was a dark void with no light and absolutly no features of any kind. He looked around himself, but he couldn't bring himself to stop walking, like something was pulling him along by the collar of his shirt. A small dot of light on the horizon appeared, but this approached him rapidly and the tunnel was engulfed in the light in an instant. Kazuma sheilded his eyes a bit and looked around. It was hot and very bright, so much so he could barely see at first. He slowly opened his eyes and brought down his arms from his face. He had gone from Kabuki and was standing in this barron desert before him. The sand was soft and red, like a thick rust color. The dunes of the sand seemed more like mountains by there shear size. There were a few stray bushes with leaves dried to thorns, but other than that there seemed to be no sign of any life. The heat was incredible, it had only been a few minutes and he was already dripping sweat. He thought back and remeberd when this had happend before. But that time he had gone to an arena, this was a desert. What was happening to him? He walked to the base of one of the massive dunes and used it for shade from the skin frying sun. The images from his last disappearance were starting to return to him. That large man with the axe, and that sword he had that seemed to come from no where. Kazuma could feel the blood of the man run warm over his hands again, but less then the idea of killing him, what upset him most was how much he enjoyed the act. Was he going to kill again here? This was still yet to be seen. He was isolated out here, he was all alone. That was weighing on his mind more then the fact of where he was. Would he be attacked by yet another stranger, would he kill yet another person to stay alive. So many questions and no answers for them. He leaned back against the mountain of sand as the sun rolled back, casting an even greater shadow.

His body was heavy, but Emilio was finally able to move again. He scrambled off the bed and landed on hands and knees on the floor. Whatever they had given him was still making his body numb and he couldn't even feel where he was anymore. He moved his hands, dragging across the white shiny floor, slowly making it's way toward his affects. He could still hear people outside going about there business. They would surely send someone to check on him soon, he had to hurry out of this place. He set his hands to the edge of the bed and pulled himself up, his legs felt like they were soggy bread. He had a hard time standing, but decided he could manage. He started to dress himself, when he heard someone just beyond the door. The knob giggled only once then came open. A man in a white coat stood in the doorway, he had a look of shock on his face. The man called out "Nurse, the patient is up." The woman from earlier then came in and ran over to Emilio. This was it, they were going to take him for interogation, he was sure of it. That man must have been the interogator. She tried to grab his arm and he flung her off him and backed to the window. The man then called out for guards. Two large hulking men came in the room and jumped at Emilio to hold him down. The continued to shout "The patient has become delirious. Restrain him quickly." Emilio felt a sudden stabbing pain in his right shoulder as he struggled with the two men. He looked to see a small needle in his shoulder as a strange liquid was pumped into his arm. Emilio felt the twing of the presense of water. He called it up and a unit on the wall burst free and the room quickly flooded out. The three men and the woman after him had been washed out. Emilio then turned to the window and jumped out. He fell for four storied before landing on a thick black stone coverded in yellow and white markings. He could still hear people shouting and calling for help back up in the room he was in. He looking around and saw a maze of monolithic structures of identical design. He stood for a moment trapped in awe, til he heard someone coing after him. He took to running now, not even bothering to see which one of them had decided to chase him. He could feel the pull under the black rock slab, that seemed to stretch on forever. He tried to pull more to himself, and as he did metal lids from the ground burst with a foul stench. The water was impure, it was almost nauseating. He had no other recourse however, he flooded the path and stopped all persuers. it was at this time he took notice of the metal carriages all over the road. They moved without horses, or someone ot pull them. What kind of dark magic were they using? Whatever it was, it left a fould stench in the air. This whole world reaked of evil, even the air and water felt tainted to an unimaginable level. He heard voices from nowhere, saw images of people who werent' really there. Could he be going insane? It was at this time he started to feel heavy again. He stumbled a bit and eventually returned to a crawl. It was at this time he heard a voice call to him. It was a voice that knew his name. It was one he recognized. As he began to slip into unconsiousness, he saw the three figures running to him. He saw the face of only one. It was Grace.

Name: Dorrian Tonnick Age: 18 Gender: Male Class: Warrior Hero or Villian: Hero Background: Feared and despised. Man always fears what's different, and he was as different as they came. He was born to a normal family, but was born idfferent. Infected at birth, with something more horrible then a virus. His bodies form is indefinite, he can shift it's shape and even it's density. Though this was hardly at will in his childhood. He was, and was treated like, a freak. They even tried to kill him once. His own parents came for him in the night to take him in the middle of the night. That pillow went tight and fast over his face and the life was draining from him quickly, there was a moment of silence. When he came to, his parents were shred to ribbons and blood was staind on his hands. It was dried, he had killed them quite sometime ago. He was terrified at the sight and ran away from the scene quickly. OF course this only further helped demonize him as he now looked like a vicous killer. Hell, maybe he was. He took to a simple world on his own, living as a vagabond. As long as he kept moving, his past never had time to catch up. He has always had a hero complex. He can't stand to see the weak being surpressed by those stronger then them. He, however, has a distant dispostion. Many mistake this for anger and rudeness, when in all honesty, he just doesn't want to be with others. Almost being killed by your parents puts a damper on the whole human interaction relationship. He has been feeling a burning pull as of late. Like a sense of dread eminating all about him. Like the essense of evil itself. While it is so horrible, it is still pleading and calling him to it. He has decided to go for it, even though it frightens him. Image: [IMG]http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/0930_scryed.jpg[/IMG]

I can agree with that, my girlfriend still hits me. She smacks me then starts hugging me. It's kinda weird, but I'm getting used to it, which is even scarier. She still asks me why I put up with the abuse, and I just tell her that I'm just that kinda guy. I know that no matter what she says it's not an all around thing with her, because she doesn't hit one of our other friends like that (and she sees this she'll know who I'm talking about). I think I'm just more fun for her to beat on.

We are not some elitist communtiy here. We just value cohernet and intelligent conversation. Is that wrong? No. Compared to many other forums I find this one to be a breath of fresh air where I can hold my head up high and hold engaging converstaion with the likes of Stark, Inukuroyoukai(aka Kuro-tan), and (Even though we don't agree on anything) retribution. All top notch posters who I can meet with on an intelligent and intellectual level. I can't understand this scorn that is felt for us in other forums. We're not elitist here, or at least I've never noticed any one procaliming our dominance over the other forums. At the end of the day, I know that this is the only forum I'd choose to be on because the people and staff here are top notch and are able to keep me thinking and coming back.

I know all about the war crimes of our past and what we have done in war, I am taking a history of the Vietnam course this semester and it's being taught by a teacher who was there. I know about the trail of tears in which you speak, but every nation your going to see has these things about them. There is no one nation who's history is not stained with blood at somepoint. Not England, not France, not Germany, not Japan, not Italy, not any other nation your going to find out there. Every nation has some horrible black part of it's past, some kind of massacre or oppression. But that's not what I'm talking about, you keep ignoring my plea, which is really starting to upset me. I'm a soilder, me and my borthers in arms go out and fight and die for that flag. If I see someone burning a flag, I'm gonna jump on him and beat the crap out of him. Why? Because for someone of service, he has just spit in my face for all he did. He just said "I don't care about all the people who died so I can have this freedom, I just want to watch the pretty colors burn to ash." You think that for some reason this gets great attention, and it does. But not the kind that will rally to your cause. There is no logic to burning a flag and all it does is invoke anger. We have political and rational ways to solve problems. Again, we don't need a law to stop flag burning, because if you really enjoy the freedoms of this nation, then you didn't need to do it. It was nothing more then a simple act of anger and hate, that has just dishonored every soilder in this country. Do I think flag burning is un-patriotic. Damn straight it is! Do I think the PATRIOT Act is un-patriotic. Again, Damn straight it is! But I will never turn my back on, or burn a flag. Why? Because the flag is not a sign of government or the president, it's a sign of our freedom, and a shining beakon for our troops who fight for those freedoms. I wish I could make you understand this, but you strike me as being so dead set that I don't think what I say matters to you, because you won't except the thoughts of others. In summary, I don't think there needs to be a law against it, because if you really believe in this country and the freedoms you have, then if you don't, you simply have no logic or understanding, or even respect for the rights you have as an American. I believe that if you really want to make things change, there are better ways then burning a flag. Because you don't represent the government, you represent those freedoms you call for and those soilders who died in the name of. Why do you believe that these people deserve even the time of day? If they need to resort to flag burning, which is, again, a simple act of hatred against this nation, why do these people deserve anything more then resentment. I respond to logic and thought and opinion. Which is why I respond to you. I may not agree with you, but I respect the fact that you can stand here talk rationally of what you believe, and I do apologize for calling you delusional. I just wish there was some way I could help you understand the kind of act this is. And the anger it causese me.

[quote name='Retribution][size=1']It is also these revered fathers who said "Give me liberty, or give me death," those revered fathers who fought for the right to do what they wanted, for self-governance, for the life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I'd say it's hypocritical to want to take away the right to burn a flag. It's infringing upon a sacred right -- if we start saying "Well, you can do this, but not that," how will we know were to stop? We already have wire taps, we already have the PATRIOT Act, we already have jailing without a warrant.[/size][/quote] I understand this much, I have to personally sufferd for the PATRIOT Act. I know what this kind of thing represents and I am opposed to this sort of thing, but you also seem to forget the fact that I mentioned that I am opposed to this government and make no short note of mentioning it, and I am an advicate of civil rights in this country. [/QUOTE]Give the people their rights -- no matter how much they upset you. Sometimes burning a flag is completely called for -- if, hypothetically, slavery were re-instated, you better believe that I'd go in front of the White House and burn every American flag I could get my hands on.[/QUOTE] [/QUOTE]I don't smile when I see an American flag burned. I truly feel sad -- I feel sad that there'd be such disrespect towards the flag. The thing that separates me and you, is that I'm rational about it -- I look for the meaning behind it -- I respect their freedom of speech, and how people died for that right. How would it be if you revoked a right that people died for? Would it be just?[/size][/QUOTE] Let me be perfectly straight forward with you, if you ever see someone burning a flag, there is no rationale behind it other than "I hate America". Because, instead of boycott or petition or protest, these guys decided to deface a symbol of our freedom, our nation, and our troops who have died to see to it that the flag can wave as a sign of freedom of for the people of our country. We live in a massive multicultural nation, if you want respect for the flag, talk to someone who managed to escape cambodia during the reign of Pol Pot, or someone who made it out of Iraq or Iran, and let them tell you how proud they are of that flag. You say you look for the rationale, and I say your delusional. These men have done this because the only rationale they could come up with was "Hate America". We have freedoms in this nation and if your so opposed to something, then petition it to the government. I'm not for a law that bans flag burning, because that should be a given. If you feel the need to burn a flag then you have no right to live here, because the only way you can manifest a show of disapproval is through direspect and hatred, and we don't want that here.

I must say I'm quite disturbed toward the lack of American pride here on this thread. I serve in the US armed forces and I believe it's there that you can gain a true appreciation for what the flag stands for, and all the blood that was shed so it could fly high and proud. And to burn one is like spitting in the face of every man who ever served and/or died in any American war. The services men and women of past who fought for this country waved this flag as a banner to show the rest of the world the pride we arried for our nation, and now because some anarchist moron thinks the world needs to abanndon governement and burns a flag, we should all just look the other way. I'll tell you right now, I ever see some one burning a flag, even if it's just one of those tiny little flags they hand out at the 4 of july, I'll shot right in the f***ing head. I take this very seriously. Why? Because unlike what I've noticed here is that no matter how much you asay it, if you can condone flag burning then you obvously have no respect for our armed forces who died so it wave over our country. You have no respect for great names like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, who fought to the brnk of death so this symbol could fly with out repretion. I know freedom of speech gives you the right to expression and I'm all for that, don't get me wrong. But if you can take a flag and burn it you have just spit on the honor of that sacred document that gives you that right. How can you call out for freedom of speech and then burn it's very symbol? The idea alone is hypocritical, and anyone who is okay with this is nothing short of a hypocrite in my eyes. And I hate nothing more then a hypocrite. I've said in the past that I may not be the biggest supporter of our present government and I'm not ashamed to say it to anyone who wants to hear it, but I do love my country and am willing to fight and die for my country. So for me to watch these a**holes go out and burn the symbol that my brothers are out there dieing for fills me witha rage I can't begin to describe to you. In short, if you want to burn a flag, that's fine, but make sure you move to north korea or Iran first. Be cause if the very symbol that defines us is some how deserving in your eyes then I don't want to protect you. Go to Iran or some other totalitarian nation so I can take shots at you with M-16 in a few years.