Allamorph

[quote name='2007DigitalBoy][COLOR="DarkOrange"']But did you know he lost his virginity before his father did?![/COLOR][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Yes, actually. I think it was around the time he took a trip to the Virgin Isles. They are now just The Isles. Funny story, actually: I was just playing a blank tape at full blast yesterday. The mime next door went nuts. (How low can I go.)[/FONT]

[quote name='Lethargy][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkGreen]Oh! Helen Keller jokes![/COLOR'][/SIZE][/quote] [quote name='Sirius][COLOR=#35425e][FONT="Palatino Linotype"]^ Well ah do believe it's time for Michael J. Fox jokes[/FONT'][/COLOR][/quote] [FONT=Arial]As long as we don't start with Chuck Norris. 'Cause we already know he can divide by zero and he counted to infinity twice. A man walks into a bar. Ouch.[/FONT]

[quote name='Nerdsy][color=deeppink']I'd go a bit farther than that. If the bolded statement is true then a person who kills himself or herself would be dying when they are supposed to, no matter what the circumstances are.[/color][/quote] [FONT=Arial]That was pretty much exactly my point, yes. It's called rhetoric. :animesmil [quote name='indifference][COLOR="Indigo"']Using God or belief as a reason for not allowing assisted suicide isn't a good enough reason for me either.[/COLOR][/quote] From what I've noticed, neither is it a good enough reason for Him – so what have we? [B]Edit:[/B] [quote name='Lethargy][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkGreen]So since you don't believe in a higher power, killing people is okay then, right?[/COLOR'][/SIZE][/quote] Yous just holds ya's horses there, eh? Ya ain't gonna get much o' anywhere with [I]that[/I] kinda a'arguin'.[/FONT]

[QUOTE=Flagg][SIZE="1"][B] Capitalization is the difference between "I had to help my uncle Jack off a horse.." and "I had to help my uncle jack off a horse.."[/B][/SIZE][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]That line is made of pure Yes. [B]Q:[/B] What's black, white and red, and can't get through a door? [B]A:[/B] A nun with a spear through her head.[/FONT]

[QUOTE=Lethargy][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkGreen][B]Everyone dies when they are supposed to die[/B], and if you disrupt this natural occurrence by choosing the time of one's demise, you are essentially playing God, Allah, Jehova, Jah, Seaxnéat, Amun, Zeus, Vishnu, Shiva, Brahman, Anshar, that rock, the sun, Bob Saget, or whatever higher power you believe or disbelieve in. It is not one's place to decide when one shall leave this world.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]Hoo boy. The bolded statement is true. However, one never knows when one is supposed to die until after one dies, so if you take your own life five minitues before it [I]would have[/I] expired anyway, doesn't that mean that you were [I]supposed[/I] to take your own life? Causality is already a tricky enough subject. Let's not complicate it further with 'predestination' arguments, all righty? To actually speak to the subject, I believe that suicide is wrong, from the cowardice angle. I also believe that a person is free to choose to commit suicide, even if I believe it's wrong and cowardly. I would not assist someone who wishes to take their own life, but I'm not sure I wouldn't turn a blind eye at the same time. I know I'd probably try to talk them out of it, but that only works if I could find in them the will to live somewhere, and they hadn't already replaced it with the will to die. If I were in the position to kill myself, I know I would not. I care little enough for my own wishes already, so the motive for ending the pain would be gone. I would most likely be fighting to live so I could stay with my family and friends for as long as possible, to provide them with whatever hope/inspiration/counsel might be needed. But that's me, and I'm ideologically antiquated as it is.[/FONT]

[quote name='Aaryanna_Mom']If you think they should, it did not occur to me to have all three done in the same article..[/quote] [FONT=Arial]It's really just because the purpose behind the threads are basically identical; whether or not they were coordinated is another story. :p (They weren't ? I know.)[/FONT]

[quote name='Aaryanna_Mom][URL="http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=57786"][U]What are You Watching/Reading Now?[/U'][/URL][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Just because I'm anal like that, this article should cover all three(?) threads by that name. I might be writing up something this go-round. I'll let you know what happens. -A[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Considering he hasn't been on since the sixth, I'd tend to agree. I'm sure he could jump in fairly easily enough, as long as someone was willing to bring him up to speed. That's assuming, of course, that he isn't having router problems as well, right? [I]*elbow*[/I][/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Just waitin' on [COLOR=DarkRed]Starwind[/COLOR] and [COLOR=DarkRed]Premonition[/COLOR] to post now. Come on, guys; I'm getting itchy over here.[/FONT]

Improv He descended the steps to the dive leisurely, his right hand in his pocket, his left trailing on the banister. Breathing deeply, he glanced around, taking in the welcome dusky atmosphere provided for and by the five-thirty crowd. Afternoon sun streamed in the high windows, creating rectangles of light on the wall behind the bar and causing the bottles on its shelves to sparkle temptingly, and smoke from a few of the tables rose and mingled with the beams in glowing clouds. It was a crowd today, he marked. Unusual for the time of day. The big rush usually didn’t start until about seven or so, after the music had arrived and set up. Good, consistent music did wonderful things for business, and the Peregrine almost always had good music. Sometimes the artists were mediocre, but never were they awful. The crowd was definitely here for business now, though, judging from the activity of the staff. He glimpsed Eileen disappearing into the kitchen, and Tiffany was busily making her rounds—he caught a hasty “welcome to the Peregrine” as she whisked brusquely past him, though he doubted she actually had time to recognize him. “Nathan!” The exuberant voice belonged to Gerry Miles, the Peregrine’s owner, proprietor, and barkeep. “How’s it going? Come on in; sit down, sit down.” Nathan followed the stocky bartender’s gestures over to the corner of the bar, just past the lift-up entrance and moderately away from the other patrons: his customary place, and his favorite. Gerry pulled a stool out from behind the counter and passed it to Nathan. Good old Gerry; he probably hadn’t let anyone else sit there the entire time Nathan had been away. Nathan sat, swiveling his back to the wall, and placed his hat on the oak bartop, resting his right arm beside it. “So, what can I get ya?” Gerry was asking him. “Just some water for now,” he answered. “Ya sure?” “For now,” Nathan repeated. “I’ll let you know when I order something.” Gerry left with an acquiescing “all right”, and Nathan’s gaze drifted off, his thoughts turning to his morning’s duties. ------------------- His assignation had been a couple of states over, on a major interstate. It had been raining atrociously that morning, though it hadn’t bothered him too terribly; he had, after all, been incorporeal at the time, so the rain had just passed right through him. The only thing he had minded had been the lack of visibility through the sheets of water—and the fact that he had been standing on the shoulder like an ill-lucked hitchhiker. He had been like a hitchhiker in the sense that he was waiting on a ride, but Nathan had had a particular car in mind, and every now and then he had checked his watch to see how soon his vehicle would meet him. Naturally he hadn’t been told what kind of car to expect, or even what color. All he had had to go on, as usual, were location and time of death. Normally that was all that was needed, but in these situations he usually found himself wishing, as he had then, that he might be given just a smidgen more. Details about the car, for instance. Or maybe the driver’s gender. Of course, he had reflected, as a dark-colored Jeep Cherokee had hydroplaned into his field of view, this one might be a little obvious. It was on time, at least, or close enough. He had watched as the car’s back end had drifted to the left, as its driver had overcompensated, as it had swung sharply back the other way. He had moved calmly into its path as it had careened sideways onto the shoulder, as its wheels had caught on the turf and it had snapped over, flipping and rolling sickeningly, its passengers’ terrified screams reaching him even across the distance and through the car’s sheet metal. And as it had flown towards him, he had drawn his scythe. Leaping backwards, he had swung for the front passenger as the Jeep had sailed through his body; that one had died mid-roll. His feet had contacted the rough bark of the pine tree just before the car had wrapped itself around its large trunk, and he had pushed off sharply, catching the girl behind the driver on his way back through—for her, whiplash. One more left; he’d grabbed the roof of the car, and as his body spun around his hand, he’d hurled his scythe at the flying body of the boy who hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt. The sickle had whipped through the boy’s chest as he had collided with another pine; it had bounced afterwards, falling to rest a few feet away from its target. He had landed in a crouch, conveniently right beside the three stunned souls. They had been staring at the steaming wreckage, utter collective shock etched on their faces. “What’s going on?” one of the girls had stammered; Nathan recognized her as the one beside the driver. “Car wreck,” he’d answered simply, standing up. He had calmly adjusted his blazer and scarf, watching them coolly as the realization of their situation had slowly dawned on them. The second girl had let out a strangled gasp. “Oh my god,” she had begun whispering pathetically, as people do when they find themselves in terrible situations. “That was; was…was that…?” “Yes.” “Oh my god.” “Oh, stop it,” Nathan had admonished good-naturedly, wrapping an arm under her shoulders before she could collapse to her knees. “There’s nothing you can do about it now, so why don’t you just come with me?” He had phrased it as a question, but it really wasn’t, and he had begun moving through the trees, helping her walk. The other girl had followed dumbly, and the boy…. The boy had finally found his voice. “What about Craig?” Nathan had turned as he walked. “What about him?” He had assumed the boy meant had the driver. “Craig—Craig!” The boy had started running towards the hunk of twisted metal. “We have to help Craig!” Nathan had stopped and faced the boy. “Really,” he’d asked flatly as the boy’s frantic arms passed straight through the car. “And how do you propose to do that? You’re dead.” “Oh my god,” repeated his burden. The boy had looked at him, stunned. “Your body’s over here,” Nathan had continued, motioning with his head. “You are currently a bodiless soul; there’s not a whole lot you can do for your friend now.” “Can’t you do something?” Nathan had shaken his head. “Not my job.” “But,” the boy had insisted vehemently, “he could die!” “He’s not going to die.” “How do you know!?” Nathan had sighed. Depositing his load gingerly on the ground, he had walked over to the boy’s corpse and retrieved his fallen scythe. “Because,” he had said slowly, holding it up, “I’m Death.” If they all hadn’t been staring before, they had certainly been staring now. The “god” girl had looked as if she might cry. This had somehow prevented her from reciting her current pitiful mantra, for which Nathan had been relieved. “Well,” he had allowed, lowering his arm, “I’m not really Death per sé. I’m kind of an emissary of Death; Death’s field agent, so to speak. For all intents and purposes, though, I am effectively Death. I get told who dies where and when, and I go, take the soul from the body, and send it on. I wasn’t told to deal with—Craig, did you say?—so as far as I know he doesn’t die yet. Besides, somebody has to stay behind to be on those teen safe-driving videos.” “So,” the first girl had started abruptly, “you’re basically a grim reaper.” “Pretty much, yeah.” “Isn’t your scythe a little small?” Nathan had grinned. It had appeared that she was getting over the incident quite nicely. “Most of them are a lot bigger,” he had responded, “but I like mine this way.” He’d spun it deftly through his fingers. “It’s much more precise, I think. Less impersonal, too.” “And that little acrobatics display?” she’s asked, a little smugly. Of course. She’d been the first one separated, so she’d probably seen the entire rest of his maneuvering. “Umm, yeah.” Nathan had scratched the back of his head. “You know, usually they send more than one of us to take care of stuff like this….” “Really.” “…so I had to just make up stuff as I went.” “Sure.” “Hey, you wanna find a better way to work out the timing, there, be my guest. Sheeez.” Nathan had suddenly noticed that the girl he’d been carrying had now been staring at him curiously. “Your hair’s blue,” she pronounced, as if she’d just decided this fact. Nathan looked down at himself, then back to her. “Well, it went with the outfit.” The first girl had chuckled, and smiles had finally cracked the faces of her companions. Nathan had broken into one as well. “I think we’re all sufficiently past the recent crisis now,” he’d said. “Shall we be moving on, then?” ------------------- “Nathan? Hey, Earth to Nathan! Come back to us there, buddy.” Nathan shook himself; Gerry was peering at him inquiringly from across the counter. “I’m sorry; what?” “I just asked you,” Gerry said slowly, “if you’d like anything to eat while you daydreamed.” Nathan sat up. “Oh, sure, sure. I’ll have your chicken club, no onions this time, and I think I’ll stick with the water.” “Right.” The bartender turned and called the order back to Tiffany in the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows at the reply. “What’d she say?” Nathan asked. Gerry gave him a wry look. “She said that you knew where everything was and you could come back and make it yourself.” “She said that?” He grinned. “Sounds like someone’s not in the best mood right now.” “Well, you should’ve talked to her,” Gerry retorted. “What? When?” Gerry leaned wearily on the bar. “Nathan, you’ve been staring off into space for over an hour now. Tiff came over and tried to say hi twice, but you were out in Blueland somewhere, or something. What on earth have you been thinking about?” “Oh, you know,” Nathan dismissed. “Death, the afterlife; why we’re all here. Taxes. Nothing serious.” Gerry rolled his eyes. “You’re never serious.” “More fun that way.” “Yeah, right.” His sandwich arrived, delivered by a tight-lipped Tiffany who stalked off to another able before Nathan could manage so much as a word. The two men stared after her. “Wow,” said Gerry. “You think flowers might be in order?” Nathan mused. Gerry laughed. “Hell, man, I think chocolates are gonna be iffy for ya right now. Have fun with this one.” One of the other patrons called him away, and Nathan enjoyed most of his club before the barkeep returned. The evening’s music had started: a small combo, playing some good standards. “Well, speaking of lady friends,” Gerry started, “how’s yours?” Nathan wiped his lips. “Actually, we’re not on speaking terms right now, either,” he said with a grin. “Really? You’re on a roll, there, buddy. How’d that happen?” “Bad rat.” Gerry choked. “Yeah, she had a major hairball last night. I told her the rat was mangy….” “You reminded her, didn’t you?” “Yeah, and now somehow it’s my fault.” The bartender chuckled. “It’s not that time of the month, is it?” He retreated at Nathan’s look. “Sorry, sorry I asked. Stupid question.” Nathan sighed. “And he complains that I’m not serious. Anyway, she’s been at the house all day today; considering she almost horked a lung getting it out, I can’t say I blame her.” “Jeez.” “Yeah. I was already working on something to make her feel better, and now I’ve got to worry about this whole deal—hold on.” Nathan pulled out his phone, flipped it open and held it to his ear. As he listened, a shadow crossed his face; after a minute, he closed it and replaced it in his pocket, exchanging it for his wallet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to run.” He counted out some bills and laid them on the counter. “Here; keep the change, tip Eileen, tell Tiff I’m sorry for…tell her I’m really, really sorry and I’ll think of something for her as soon as I’m not tied up with stuff.” “From the looks of things, I think she wouldn’t mind doing some of the tying herself.” “Very funny; that’s dangerous territory, there, and not exactly G-rated.” He snatched his hat from the counter. “I’ll try to be back in later this week. Take care.”

[quote name='Lunox][font="trebuchet ms"'] That's tennis! I guess they use the same scoring for ping-pong, too. lol[/font][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Statement. Two-love. :p Tennis, ping-pong, badminton: aren't they basically the same? [quote name='Korey']All I can say from here is good luck and imagine what college is gonna feel like.[/quote] Oh, man, college feels [I]great[/I]. I had to write all of two papers for the entire year. I mean, wow. Not having to BS at all was so wonderful. I even managed to tie [I]Tainted Love[/I] into the second one, just for fun, and I made it work.[/FONT]

[quote name='AmnesiacKaiten']Because I dont make them all at once. And last time I made a sig thread, no one even posted in it -_-[/quote] [FONT=Arial]That doesn't mean we're not around. [I]*creepy music*[/I] It happens like that, though. Just depends on everybody else's mood. And of course there's those of us who just like looking but couldn't actually give you any decent C&C. We tend to lurk a lot. (For my own part, I plan on fixing that shortcoming sometime ? but sadly it's not happening anytime soon.)[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]So basically, you're supposed to take the entire book and dissect it in your own words. Bleah. I'd rather just do a book report and have done. [quote name='Clurr][FONT="Arial"']It doesn't even tell me about how many quotes I need to analyze. >:[[/FONT][/quote] Like you expected any different? :P [quote name='Lunox][font="trebuchet ms"'] I liked Albert, lol. But I don't recall a ping-pong match. :L [/font][/quote] Statement. One-love. You seriously didn't catch that? :animesmil[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]My one question is: what the devil is a dialectic journal? I'll assume it's some inanity or other that some English "professor" cooked up so other teachers could cop out and follow a format. Sadly, most things that go on in the English classroom are inane, so what have we. Summer reading is a pain, especially when accompanied by essays. What the teacher never, [I]never[/I] considers is that no one wants to buy the books, and the local library most likely only has one, maybe two copies of the literature in stock, so basically the first person to check them out hangs onto them until they've finished their essays, and then whoever finds it next out of the twenty-odd people searching for it takes it, and the rest are hung out to dry. Also, lower-level summer reading materials have utterly no relevance to each other whatsoever. The teachers don't even [I]try[/I] to link them. You'd think, you really would, but no. You can't wean people onto summer assignments. You ultimately end up antagonizing all the students, instead of "preparing" some of them. (For what, I can't possibly imagine.) Oh, jays; I'm ranting, aren't I? Oops. Oh well. At least I don't have to worry about them anymore. [quote name='Lunox][FONT="Trebuchet MS"][U]Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead[/U'], Tom Stoppard[/FONT][/quote] That play was the best evar. Especially the ping-pong match. Seriously, guys. If you haven't read this, I highly encourage you do. It's great. So what if it ties into Hamlet?[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I'm getting the [I]"be patient, young padawan"[/I] vibe between [COLOR="DarkRed"]DB[/COLOR] and [COLOR="DarkRed"]Prem[/COLOR] right now. Actually, I think it would be quite interesting to experiment with alternate adaptations of the afterlife. We aren't required to play this from the Judeo-Christian standpoint, but if we're moving souls along somewhere, it'd be nice to have a Where to send them to. We could conceivably do this as the story progresses, though, so as not to get in too big a rush. The Soul Society concept from [I]Bleach[/I] presents itself, but I like fooling around with fiction. [quote name='2007DigitalBoy][COLOR="DarkSlateGray"']Also, lulz at Allamorph secretly being an Esper.[/COLOR][/quote] Oh, please. Like you didn't already suspect.[/FONT]

[quote name='Premonition'][COLOR="DarkSlateGray"]I'm really looking forword to this, seeing as [U]I'm the only one from Esper Jam in this RP[/U].[/COLOR][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]I thought about it, back when it was open, but then I remembered I don't [I]have[/I] to pretend I'm an esper. In that light, it just seemed kind of boring. I do have to pretend I'm blue, though. :p And I'm terrible at chess. Come to think of it, I'm pretty bad at checkers, too. Just as a head's up, I'm going to be absolutely wasted from about the 21st until the following Sunday. Don't expect anything from me on those days ? although the evening of the 21st is questionable. (New computer = awesomeness)[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I believe I've sent you everything. In fact, the events was the first one I sent back. If you didn't get it, I'll re-send it. -A [B]Edit:[/B] Okay, so it isn't in my sent file. Odd. Sorry; I must have dreamed that or something. :p I'll get it to you asap.[/FONT]

[quote name='Rachmaninoff']Anyway, studies like that are interesting, but they too are meh. Like any other study, the results are far from being totally accurate.[/quote] [FONT=Arial]Bother you. The point of studies like these is so that the rest of us can laugh. (Especially the serious ones.) Music majors have no lives. It can't be helped; it's inherent in our particular discipline. Ergo, we have no time for sex. Sad, but true. [I]Trombone[/I] majors, on the other hand....[/FONT]

[FONT="Arial"][indent][I]"But there is one composer whose name is never included with the greats. Why is it that the world never remembered the name of Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern- schplenden-schlitter-crasscrenbon-fried-digger-dingle-dangle-dongle-dungle-burstein-von -knacker-thrasher-apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic-grander-knotty-spelltinkle-grandlich- grumblemeyer-spelterwasser-kurstlich-himbleeisen-bahnwagen-gutenabend-bitte- ein-nürnburger-bratwustle-gerspurten-mitz-weimache-luber-hundsfut-gumberaber- hönedanker-kalbsfleisch-mittler-aucher von Hautkopft of Ulm?"[/I][/indent] That, and the finest crunchy raw bits of real unboned dead frog. "Mmm. Crunchy frog."[/FONT]

[quote name='I'm Not Nomura][SIZE="1"]If he changes up the tempo and adds in transitionary bits then it's not the [I]same [/I']pattern. [/SIZE][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Tempo and transition have nothing to do with whether or not it's a pattern. Tempo is the speed a pattern is played at, and the transition bits are basically just fillers put in on top of the pattern. If it's a pattern at 64bpm, it'll be the same pattern if you play it at 216bpm. It's just faster, is all.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial][I]—Whoo. This is fun. What happened to gravity? Can't get a system readout....anesthesia, maybe? Must be pretty potent stuff; diamorphine hydrochloride? No, that'd be heroin. Must be morphine sulfate. I'm back in first-person, too. Must have been one doozie of a hit. —Wheee. —'Course, I should probably find consciousness right about now. I'm not doing any good floating about in my head. As fun as this is. —Well, except for the black part. That's kinda boring. —Aaanyway....[/I] [center]------------------------[/center] The first thing Shades noticed was that he was lying down and he appeared to be in a hospital bed, confirming his suspicions about the medication. The second was that he was missing his sunglasses. With a sigh, he produced a pair from underneath a bedside stand, donned them, and opened his eyes. A female doctor was giving him a very bizarre look. [B]"I won't ask how you did that,"[/B] she started, [B]"but I'll need you to take those off again."[/B] He cocked his head at her. [B]"I don't believe I've had the pleasure,"[/B] he said. [B]"Unfortunately, I'm afraid I don't have the time to rectify that oversight, much as I'd like to. I've been out for far too long as it is. This is the second time now, and it's starting to annoy me."[/B] He offered her a pleasant smile. [B]"I'm sorry if that's a problem."[/B] Grabbing something metal and launching it at the overhead light, he rose, slid into the nearest shadow, and was gone. After retrieving his clothing from under the nose of a startled intern,, he reappeared in a janitor's closet, where he proceeded to change quickly. No sense in running around in that flimsy, ridiculous hospital gown. It made his rump cold, among other things. That done, he checked around the hall for any potential observers before exiting the closet, and he discovered that he'd emerged in the hospital's basement. [B]"Now I know why Nightcrawler prefers to [I]look[/I] where he's going."[/B] He hadn't been down here before; he hadn't even bothered to scan the blueprints at all, reasoning that he'd never need to come down here. Obviously that wasn't the case anymore. Might as well do some mapping while he was here, he thought, so as not to waste the time. He scanned around while he walked the sub-terrain, checking for the others he had been with. Apparently they'd all gotten back while he'd been out; he felt Sanguinius, Webster, Crystia, and Fluff all inside the building. (And the yip-dog. To bad she was a small critter, he might have liked her otherwise. Shades couldn't stand small dogs, even the better ones. Aaryanna did seem to have some redeeming qualities, though, so he wasn't getting the same strong urge to punt her.) It bothered him how easily Gavin had incapacitated him. Normally he could have shrugged off an injury like that through force of will, but he wasn't feeling entirely himself – he supposed that that might somehow explain things, like how those shadows had been managing to disorient him. Even if the Beast had manufactured them, they were still just shadows; he should have been able to at least manipulate them. Perhaps, also, he might have sensed the presence of the person he had just barely managed to avoid stumbling across, he thought abruptly. They were still a good thirty feet apart; Shades slipped behind a support column to watch. He recognized the person as Terror Stick, the terrorist who'd attempted to feign defection before CTUHQ had been demolished. He was busy fiddling with a large, suspicious-looking parcel or sommat..... [B]"Oh, crap,"[/B] Shades whispered tensely. He slid out from the shadow behind an open door and headed for his teammates, ignoring the astonished stares of the hospital staff. They were gathered outside one of the wards; Fluff looked like she had been recently crying. Inside was, according to his sensors.... [I]A. M.[/I]? [I]—Bloody hell. When it rains, it pours.[/I] It figured that he didn't have time to join them. He stopped when they noticed his presence. [B]"We have a situation."[/B][/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]As far as timing goes, the next few weeks are probably going to be a bit hectic for most people, what with the start of school and all. I think that if you start opening sign-ups now, you might run into the same problem that [COLOR="DarkRed"]Ozymandius[/COLOR] encountered with Beatlemania Redux, set up shortly before the end of last term. It was not a bad concept, and probably would have flown, but it just got forgotten and buried. Now, I don't see that being as big of an issue [I]here[/I], what with the current popularity of the Death Card series, but it's still something you might want to keep in mind. If it were me, I'd wait until September, when all the insanity will have leveled out. But that's me.[/FONT]

[quote name='Søren'][FONT="Garamond"][SIZE="3"][B]Trigun:[/B] Another classic. This one's about super-wacky but kind hearted gunman who gets himself into and out of all kinds of trouble. Oh, and he has a $$60,000,000,000 bounty on his head.[/SIZE][/FONT][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]Oh, and he just so happened to [I]put a hole in the moon.[/I] They talk about this from episode one, if I remember right, so I don't think it's a spoiler. [B]Wolf's Rain[/B] is a good one, and probably my all-time favorite. Post-apocalyptic setting, in a version of the world where wolves, who are supposed to be extinct, have learned to take on the illusionary form of humans to blend in. The plot follows a white wolf as he searches for the mythical Paradise. [B]Ghost in the Shell[/B]. I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't recommend this title, which currently covers two movies and two series (as far as I know): Ghost in the Shell; GitS 2: Innocence; GitS Stand Alone Complex; GitS SAC 2nd GiG. Cyberpunk, graphic at times, and [I]very[/I] cerebral. [center]Sailor Moon. You must watch Sailor Moon. Everyone loves Sailor Moon.[/center][/FONT]

[FONT=Arial][SIZE="1"][B][U]Name:[/U][/B] Nathan [B][U]Gender:[/U][/B] Male [B][U]Apparent Age:[/U][/B] 32 [B][U]Personality:[/U][/B] [indent]Curious, in a word. Unpredictable, in another. Nathan has as many personalities as one could imagine, and he switches freely between them at his slightest whim. Most often he is calm and amiable, preferring the security of the wall at his back when indoors, and he has no qualms inflicting his somewhat dry sense of humor onto those around him; but he is not averse to sudden outbursts of randomness, nor to long periods of silence or solitude. When he is not in conversation, his mouth is set in a smooth, quiet line.[/indent] [B][U]Eccentricities:[/U][/B] [indent]Nathan is very, [I]very[/I] blue. Even his leather dress shoes are bright blue (think Ryan Stiles, from [I]Who’s Line[/I]). In fact, the only item of his wardrobe that is not blue is the soft black satin scarf he keeps around his neck. He seems to derive some small degree of amusement from his attire, ostensibly due to his peculiar hair pigmentation. As he himself has said on more than one occasion, all of his hair is blue. All of it. Somehow, though, he can blend into a crowd as if he was just another normal-colored person. Nathan’s favorite game is [URL="http://private.addcom.de/meder/3dschach/image6.gif"][COLOR="Blue"]tri-dimension Chess[/COLOR][/URL]. Unfortunately, he is also one of the very few on the planet who actually knows how to play the game, so he is generally confined to walking through various strategies and maneuvers by himself when he plays; he has been known to spend hours on end at this diversion. His personal set is composed of sapphire and frosted emerald pieces, and the obsidian boards, set on a crystal frame, alternate with ruby tiles. Where he came by the set, he will not say. The odd protrusions from Nathan’s hat have netted him almost constant incredulous questions. Although he probably has a legitimate story behind them, he likes to blow off the attention by saying that they make him look elvish. He has never been seen without the hat. His scythe is actually more of a sickle. It is thirteen inches long from butt to blade, the latter of which curves for about eight inches itself, and he keeps it hung on a strap on his belt, concealed by his blue suit jacket. Nathan has an incredible soft spot for peach cobbler…preferably with real butter.[/indent] [B][U]Familiar:[/U][/B] [indent]In keeping with the general stereotype, she is a feline: a short-hair Russian Blue (ironic) with pure gold eyes and an upside-down triangle of white fur on her chest. Her name is Isen, and she is highly possessive of her shinigami companion.[/indent] [B][U]Appearance:[/U][/B] [URL="http://fc02.deviantart.com/fs17/f/2007/129/8/c/Pokemon__Gen_by_SilentReaper.jpg"][COLOR="Blue"]Nathan[/COLOR][/URL].[/SIZE][/FONT]

[quote name='Premonition][COLOR="DarkSlateGray"][spoiler]I know, didn't sound right to say![/spoiler']XD[/COLOR][/quote] [FONT=Arial][spoiler]Then why'd ya say it?[/spoiler] :therock: About the intimidated part, Lick .... don't be. Sure, we bite, and sometimes pretty hard, but I'm certain you can hold your own. Nobody'll chew you out unless you royally screw up, and you seem to be self-conscious enough to not do that. Odd question, though. I'm fine with my life right now. I don't think it'd make a great movie ? but then again, Napoleon Dynamite didn't fare too badly, and it was boring as all get-out, to me. Working third-shift Wal-Mart remodel has been interesting, to say it nicely. I spend a lot of time in my head, though. I found [I]FE: Sacred Stones[/I] recently, which I've been geeking over, and I also spotted [I]Tales of Phantasia[/I] hiding back behind some of the newer DS games on the store shelf. (I recently got my own SP, charcoal-colored and perfectly functional, out of a trash can in our local thrift store, with Pokémon Crystal plugged into it. Talk about convenient.) The FE series lends itself [U]so[/U] [U]well[/U] to novelization; I'm thinking about doing some game-based sketches for practice while I develop my universe further. Getting all supports is going to be one heck of a ride. School starts in about three weeks. Yippee-yippee-[I]yee[/I]-haw.[/FONT]