Allamorph

[FONT=Arial]I feel this concept somewhat the same as writer's block: some believe it exists, while others argue that the notion is absurd. Personally, I couldn't care either way, since those with which I would argue this over generally don't wish to be convinced otherwise anyway. But nevermind that. A bunch of bosh, it is.[/Yoda] Really, this thread sparked because I had a rather nasty bout just last Thursday, in which the feeling was so strong my chest tightened and I was forced to breathe. (Differently than normal, I mean, which admittedly isn't all that much anyway.) Then, since it is actually a known concept, I wondered if perhaps any of you guys happened to have had similar experiences, or even just thoughts on the matter. And so I am attempting to broach the subject. If you've ever had déjà vu, what was it like for you? Could you trace it back to anything, or was it just a feeling? If you haven't, what do you think of us loonies? If you've no clue what I'm talking about, déjà vu is the name given to the feeling of "This has happened before...." It's almost like precognition, but on a subconscious level. Of course, I could just be BSing that last sentence there. I can never tell. So, what think you?[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Hooray, done. Sorry 'bout the length, but as I told [COLOR=DarkRed]indifference[/COLOR], when my muse comes back to me, she acts like we've been apart for years. (Or, in [COLOR=DarkRed]DB[/COLOR]'s terms, like she hasn't had sex for a month. :p ) Alright, time to find out if the winner is who I think it is. If it isn't, then I hope it isn't who it probably is. I'll shut up now.[/FONT]

[font=calibri]It seemed to Delita, as the shockwave from the implosion resonated through the building, that her former residence was doing everything in its power to block her at each and every step or turn she took. No matter how hard she tried, and even with her intimate knowledge of her surroundings to aid her, she couldn�t prevent any of the carnage that the Panopticon was designed to create. It was almost as if the system itself didn't even want to reset properly, just so it could toy with her. That thought brought back something she'd said earlier.[/font][font=calibri]...on some level, your own thoughts, fears, and desires affect what happens.[/font] [font=calibri]If that was true, and Delita knew it was, then that meant that the Panopticon was constantly playing on her desire to save her comrades in order to torture her. The idea made her angry. She was tired of it all, she realized, and it was time to leave. She would get out. She grabbed Mary's arm, heading resolutely for the next door. [b]"Come on." [/b] Mary let out a startled squeak. [b]"Whaâ??aahh!"[/b] [b]"We're getting out of here,"[/b] Delita told her firmly as she strode through the next hallway, dragging the poor maid tightly by the wrist. [b]"I may have lost the others, but I am not leaving you behind."[/b] And then the floor dropped away. â??Figures.[/font][font=calibri]-------------------[/font] [font=calibri]As the pair dropped through the inky blackness, Delita tried desperately to keep ahold of Mary, but somehow the girl managed to slip through her grasp. The former Onlooker began to feel the first pangs of panic. Abruptly, her falling sensation halted, like an invisible tether wire had snapped taught around her. â??What?! What's going on? She twisted (as far as she could tell) around wildly, searching for a glimpse of Mary, of something, anything. â??Mary? Mary!! Are you there?! [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Hunh. Interesting reaction. Are you that afraid of solitude now?[/font] â??Is that you? Where are you? [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]I'm over here. Unfortunately, I am not Mary. And you, if I am not mistaken, are not who you once were, so I'd say we're even.[/font] â??Hunh?! What are you talking about? [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Neither of us are currently who the other was expecting find.[/font] â??Okay. I see your point. So . . . who are you, then? [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Funny. I remember having this conversation with your last occupant. It went nowhere. Or, more accurately, it went in a bit of a circle.[/font] â??So you're like me, then? [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]You mean like you used to be. And no. I am quite gainfully employed.[/font] â??Then what exactly are you doing here? [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Checking in on you. But you aren't you anymore. You're dead, it appears. And you seem to be quite the interesting character indeed.[/font] â??Forgive me if I begin to feel a bit offended. [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Why? It's a new experience for you, is it not? Ironically, you should be rather grateful that I have offended you.[/font] â??Well, I don't. [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]I know. At any rate, I meant you were interesting in the sense that you are continually morphing as this particular history progresses. Specifically, I notice that, though you have spent countless cycles as a remote observer to this facility, you are considerably more human that you realize. Isolation makes you nervous now.[/font] â??It does not! I am perfectly fine. I'm just . . . worried about her, is all. [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Indeed. You don't seem to mind much about all those hundreds of other souls who have perished here. And why the concern? Aren't you forgetting something?[/font] An image flashed before her eyes: she recognized the person as Lucia Travera, back when the current incarnation of the Panopticon had begun. Before she'd died.[/font][font=calibri]"I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one have no intention of dying."[/font] [font=calibri][font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]And what about this one?[/font][/font][font=calibri]"No I don't, but we have to survive, and for now that's all that matters."[/font] [font=calibri]It was Brittany, speaking to Desmond before her imprisonment. Desmond was also dead now. So was Brittany. â??Why are you doing this to me? [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]You know why. Shall I continue?[/font] â??No. Please don't. [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]Nnn. I think I'd better.[/font] â??No! She couldn't avoid the images. One after the other, each participant came and left. In some were only fleeting glimpses, and others were entire conversations. They came faster, faster, ever faster, flashing before her naked mind. And behind them, the nameless voice continued to talk. [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]You said you wanted to save them. But what of the others? What of the ones before you entered this Game? Don't you feel them? Did none of them deserve saving? You don't seem to remember that there's only one survivor. So what you have been able to do? The structure has destabilized, true, but the rules have not. The Game will not end until one is left. But I'll give you something. It doesn't matter much if I intervene now; the system that I was dodging is gone, and there's not much time left anyway.[/font] There was a searing sensation at the back of Delita's mind. She arched in agony, unable to cry out, her muscles spasming with shock. When it left, she felt different, like a layer of something in her head had been peeled away. [font=Freefrm721 Blk BT]I leave you with your memories; at least, those that I could find. I went as far back as I could, repairing your degradation ... which, I might add, was mostly your own fault. Do with them what you will, but use your new ones as well, for both tell you who you are. Now go.[/font] â??What? Wait!! NO!!![/font][font=calibri]-------------------[/font] [font=calibri][size=1]Delita sat up screaming. At the sight of her new surrounding, though, she immediately ceased. She was inside a large cube. The white walls, ceiling, and floor provided the room's bright illumination. In the center of each side was set a black square, about three feet across, with another square outlined in silver in its center, and more silver borders running from each of the inner square's vertices out to connect perpendicularly with the outer square's sides. Around each box was another square pattern, a one-foot groove cut deep into the wall as a border, with small, polished, round steel bars positioned between the walls. The grooves continued out from the middle of the sides of that square, running towards the edges of the walls, where they met, creating the illusion of a cage. The bars continued as well; in the walls' vertical grooves and on the ceiling, they appeared to be designed as handholds. Another steel square seemed to be set behind the grooves, acting as yet another border, and also as an anchoring plate, if one thought about it. What remained of the luminous walls were crossed in more steel. The wall had been divided into quadrants by the grooves, and each quadrant's bars ran from the corners and the centers of the edges to cross in each quadrant's center. Curiously, there were no rivets anywhere to be seen, so what was holding the steel in place was a mystery. The edges of the room itself were black. Its resulting geometric appearance was at once reassuring, foreboding, and sterile. Mary was holding Delita's hand. [b]"Umm, miss?"[/b] she was asking. [b]"Where do you think we are?"[/b] Delita was honestly dumbfounded. [b]"I haven't got the slightest idea." [/b] She thought for a moment. [b]"It's like the initial foyer, and the white-door trap, but I don't know what it's supposed to do. And I remember a lot more now, so I confess I'm a little scared. I really want to know what those black squares are for," [/b]she added to herself. Mary took it upon herself to investigate. After a few moments with no success, she placed her hand in the center square, and the large black square hissed apart in quadrants. [b]"It's another room,"[/b] Mary announced, looking down. [b]"But, it looks just like this one."[/b] [b]"That's hardly surprising."[/b] Mary looked at her pensively. [b]"Do you think we should go down?" [/b]she asked politely. Delita took her time answering, finally murmuring an uncertain, [b]"I don"t know...."[/b] Appropriately, a peculiar, squishy noise began coming down from the direction of the ceiling, sounding like wet dog food coming slowly free of its can. The women looked up to see a wave of something blue coming down unevenly at them. [b]"Yes,"[/b] Delita decided, [b]"down is a great idea."[/b] She nudged Mary through the opening and jumped in afterwards. And as soon as their bodies were clear of the passageway, they both flew sideways, landing on the room's surface in a heap. [b]"What happened?" [/b] Mary asked. [b] "Are we on the wall?"[/b] [b]"I don't think so," [/b]Delita answered. She stood up stiffly, favoring her right leg, which had somehow managed to end up underneath Mary's back. [b]"I think that the gravity in each room is different. If that's possible, then we're probably in some sort of multi-dimensional abstraction, like a visual model of the tesseract."[/b] Mary looked lost. Delita didn't seem to notice. [b]"If that's the case,"[/b] she continued blithely, [b]"then the rooms will also...."[/b] A shimmer ran up the walls. [b]"...shift position periodically."[/b] [b"Like that?"[/b] Mary was trying desperately to keep up with her mental companion. [b]"I think so. Basically, it means we don't have to worry about that blue stuff, which was probably unstable space-time, coming at us again ... at least for a while. It also means that doors might lead to different rooms depending on which way you go through them."[/b] [b]"Eh?"[/b] [b]"A door might also lead back into its own room, or even through itself; like looking in a mirror...." [/b] Delita trailed off, finally realizing Mary's discomfiture. She smiled a reassuring smile. [b]"All we have to do is find out where the edge is, and we're out!" [/b]Mary brightened a bit, but still looked a little lost. [b]"Okay,"[/b] Delita continued, taking Mary by the arm again, and mindful this time of her grip. [b]"Let's go."[/b] As they headed across the room, a square appeared without warning in its center, floating on its corner in midair. The girls slowly halted and watched in fascination as the square began folding over on itself, like so much origami, becoming slightly larger across with each new edge. Each new edge then began the same process, and the entire shape began revolving, increasing in speed with each successive revolution. Delita gradually realized that the shape, which by now was an icosa-dodeca-tetra-quasi-multi-somethingorother-hedroid, was threatening to fill the entire chamber, and it occurred to her that this, too, was a trap, though she didn't understand how. [b]"Let's go,"[/b] she said, shepherding Mary towards the nearest door. She didn't much care for the whistling noise the edges were making as they cut through the air, and, if she wasn't mistaken, the thing was growing faster now. Mary was climbing the bars to the wall's doorway, and with nothing else to do but wait for the girl, Delita pulled off the watch she'd forgotten she'd been wearing and cautiously tossed it towards the whirling mass. The shape devoured it, shredding completely it within seconds. All the bits and shavings were sucked into the shape's obscured center as they were cut off, as if the shape was a black hole. The whistling increased in volume and pitch. [b]"Delita?"[/b] [b]"Go, Mary," [/b]Delita interrupted anxiously. [b]"Go now." "Delita?" "Just get out of this room, Mary. Hurry!" "But, miss...."[/b] Her eyes fixed in terror to the prismatic flechette maelstrom, Delita reached a panicky hand back and shoved Mary through the opening. A scream jerked her back, and she darted to the hole. [b]"Mary?!"[/b] She was just in time to see the last bits of Mary"s dress shredded by the monstrosity. And then she remembered:[/font][font=calibri]"A door might also lead back into its own room...."[/font] [font=calibri]The shape stopped, reversed itself, shrank back to its original square, turned sideways, and disappeared. Delita stared in horror at what she'd done.[/font][font=calibri]--------------------------------------- [/font] [font=calibri][font=Arial]OOC: ...and that's the way the cookie crumbles.[/font]

[FONT=Arial]I just have to say this before I get cranking. I love the correlation between Oromis's final moments and the mood of his picture. My final post will in all likelihood be in homage to possibly the weirdest, and definitely my favorite, trap from [URL="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cube_2"][U][I]Cube 2: Hypercube[/I][/U][/URL], which I have constantly been reminded of while watching/playing the games so far. Coming soon. Oh, and click the title, if you haven't seen what I'm referring to, and check out the article on the initial movie while you're there.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]That's not helping any.[/FONT] (^_^)

[quote name='Charles]vBulletin sucks. Would it have been too much for you guys to have [B]sprung[/B] for an [B]ezboard[/B']?[/quote] [FONT=Arial]No pun intended, I assume. :p On a slightly related tangent, has anyone else noticed that [COLOR=DarkRed]James[/COLOR]'s earlier announcement has suddenly vanished? I swear he had something there at 1:30 this morning, my time.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Oh, right, I see that now. I'm not getting any "X" boxes, though; mine just says "View Post". If you perchance want to know if that text is getting an image beside it, then just ignore me completely, 'cause I couldn't tell you. :animeblus I also notice that though it's default, it's optional as well; I tested by editing it out of my last post. Not sure what that means, but eh.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I'm sorry, guys. I was going to post today; really, I was. But, due to circumstances and events that are in no way related to you guys, I am extremely aggravated right now. I am aggravated enough that, when my sister's dog did her once-a-day jump onto my leg to see if I'll like her now, instead of my customary growl I absolutely roared at her, and while she was cowering by the door, I informed her of my current foul mood and promised her very calmly that if she peed in the house at all before I put her outside, I'd beat her. She peed in the kitchen. I broke my promise and restrained myself, as usual; I only rubbed her nose in it while making threatening noises. (I don't think I could ever bring myself to beat an animal living in my own house or under my own care. It'd make me feel too awful.) Anyway, I am borderline angry, and as such am in no condition to write anything save R-level violence and the requisite accompanying angst. (What worries me is that I can already see how to make it work....) So until I am normal again, I will not subject you to any of that crap, though I want to end the game as much as any of you. I'm sorry guys. I really am.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]If you notice, there's a small "Reply" button located inside each individual post block. Click it, and you'll be set up to quote the entire post of whoever's box you clicked in. Make sense? Personally, I'm kinda likin' the undo/redo options, though I admit I was startled when I wasn't prompted to request a read receipt for private messages sent. [B]Edit:[/B][quote name='Sara][color=#db2007']You've been able to "preview signature" and see your signature above the editing box for a very long time.[/color][/quote] Ah, but now you see it [I]before[/I] you change it; so's you remember what you were doing, I assume.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]On that note, I am firmly convinced that both Starbucks and iPods are spawns of Satan. It's why they're frikkin' everywhere. [quote name='Clurr][FONT=Arial']I think not.[/FONT][/quote] You don't know. You just don't know. On [I]that[/I] note, I'd like to be redundant. (Heh heh, lousy.) Raisin Bran is pretty dang good, but only if you mix the raisins and bran flakes yourself. (The store-bought raisin bran's raisins are usually kind of hard, which makes them less than enjoyable.) If you need sugar ? and most days, I do ? you can dust the raisins with it before mixing. Oh, and Cheerios are always nice. ...if you haven't noticed yet, I like breakfast.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]For this latest list, I mostly agree. However: [QUOTE=HellsMinion6676]How about Most creative non-death post Most dramatic post Most Creative Death [strike]Cruelest character Most Bitchy character[/strike] Favorite underground post Most off topic underground comment[/QUOTE] Those that I struck just seem kind of [I]eeeengh[/I] to me, you know? They also deal with a pretty well subjective aspect there; after all, Claire was much more of a *****, [I]per sé[/I], than Meredith was, but Meredith got a little more developed and lived a good deal longer, so it could be said that she was a ***** [I]for longer[/I], eh? I just don't see anything merited in them. I would also like to add in: [list][*]most original trap (death not required in post) [*]most surprising death [*]worst death (as in "Jays, that was kinda cheap.")[/list] I'll try to come up with some others. And someone tell [COLOR=DarkRed]SunfallE[/COLOR] to hush. :D I'll post when I have ample time.[/FONT]

[quote name='SunfallE][COLOR=goldenrod']You know I have to pick on you right? ^_~[/COLOR][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Ummm, yeah, sure....I suppose. (_^_) [QUOTE][COLOR=Goldenrod]In addition to the story, half the fun is analyzing the others as to how they post, what they say in the underground thread, who they kill, etc. For me putting the clues together to make guesses as to who owns which character is every bit as much fun as the story. :catgirl: It's part of the strategy and it's extremely fun and satisfying even if all you get is just one character right. I know that process played a huge role in deciding which characters to switch with my last card.[/COLOR][/QUOTE] Oh, certainly. I haven't abandoned tactics, either. (Funny how [COLOR=DarkRed]DB[/COLOR] brought back both of the characters I Fated....) But I tire very easily of consciously scrutinizing people, probably since I am forever scrutinizing them [I]un[/I]consciously. If I had let that play as big a part in my gameplay as my better judgment told me I should have, I'd probably be pretty irritable as well right now. (I also might still have actually been in contention. Heh.) As for you others: [quote name='BKstyles][FONT=Tahoma']I assure you it won't matter in the end ;p.[/FONT][/quote] [I]Yes it will!![/I] Claiming Post 500 is perhaps the biggest almost-prize this game. [quote name='Rachmaninoff']And yeah... I was aiming for post 500 as well. >_

[quote name='ChibiHorsewoman][center][IMG]http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f272/Chibi_horsewoman/Funny%20pictures/sloshedsquirell.jpg[/IMG'][/center][/quote] [FONT=Arial]In the latest national independent beer survey, squirrels were found to prefer Budweiser over the leading gas station brand.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]As an independent viewer, I'd like to chip in that, when viewing the Worm as a whole, the only places I've seen obvious funk has been between entries #2 ([COLOR=DarkRed]White[/COLOR]) and #3 ([COLOR=DarkRed]cancer[/COLOR]), top to bottom; and between entries #7 ([COLOR=DarkRed]Ozy. J.[/COLOR]) and #8 ([COLOR=DarkOrange]DigitalBoy[/COLOR]), from the border down the rest of the wainscoting. I can't comment on the very last pair, since the latest entry hasn't been edited in yet (though if the colors are [I]that[/I] dark, they may very well be off), and if no one else sees what I've just mentioned then I'll chalk it up to my browser (Firefox), but right now I'd be of the mind to name the current hexadecimal hullabaloo a bit trivial. It all looks fantastic from where I'm sitting, and did so even before this issue started coming up. :D You know, just so you artists can hear from an outside source.[/FONT]

[QUOTE=BKstyles][center] [IMG]notasawesome[/IMG] FTW[/center][/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]I'm sorry; were you saying something funny just now? :p To stay on topic: snickerdoodle cookies. I have a friend whose mother makes them for me at the start of every semester. Even better than hot chocolate chip, and I [I]really[/I] like chocolate chip.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]So, why is this important, again? Personally, I've spent much more time immersed in the story itself than I have worrying about who owns who, though I'll admit I also have my ... suspicions. To [COLOR=DarkRed]Rachmaninoff[/COLOR] directly: ease up, man. Right now, you and [COLOR=DarkRed]DB[/COLOR] are pretty well tied for the most volatile players in this thread. If you think about the move, [COLOR=DarkRed]Darren[/COLOR] either revived E. because E. is his, or he revived E. in order to draw attention away from his own character. And if he's a major over-thinker, he may have revived his own character while betting that some people would see it as the distractionary tactic just mentioned, and so forth, and so on. The logic is cyclic, but bottom line is E.'s owner is still not definite. I'd take my reasoning further on a few other fronts, but my lunch break is almost over, so I have to cut short here. And, blast it all, [I][B]I[/B][/I] wanted to make post 500!!!! :mad: [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]This one's a little odd, I admit. Grape Nuts Flakes. Best cereal [U]Evar[/U].[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I am addicted to [U]chicken[/U] [U]sammiches[/U]. Especially the spicy ones. I almost turned into Hyde when I found out that Burger King took their spicy chicken off the menu. I like them a lot less right now.[/FONT]

[quote name='Sandy']And thus my duty is filled. Sorry, Darren. ;P[/quote] [FONT=arial]Oh well. (And I wanted to see what [COLOR=DarkRed]Sandy[/COLOR] would have done, too.) And that kill didn't surprise me at all. I feel kind of sorry for Etamet, though. We never did anything with him ? for my excuse, I was working with other characters ? and he just kind of ended up bland. That's partly why I targeted him for Fate; I can't stand static characters living in this situation. Same thing with Penny, actually. I think I should start making my list for this round....[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]We're getting cross-thread drama here, eh? This is kind of amusing. (Oh, and Rach? Just post. :animesmil)[/FONT]

[quote name='ChibiHorsewoman][color=#9933ff][font=lucida calligraphy]And PS: What's the difference between taping yourself to DB or the other one?[/color'][/font][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Not sure, myself. But maybe the generic pedophile wouldn't be beating you constantly with a baseball bat? (Ooh. Bad images.) [QUOTE=2007DigitalBoy][COLOR=DarkOrange] [B]would you rather[/B] Have no friends, but a loving family [B]or[/B] Have no family, but loving friends?[/COLOR][/QUOTE] Yeah, you're right. Numero Uno, indeed. (Been there, done that. Not so bad, actually.) Would you rather: [center]...parachute into paranoia with your mamma's dishes? OR ...hanglide on the Hudson with nothing but an aspirin?[/center] You better know what I'm feeling.[/FONT]

[QUOTE=Sandy]I was gonna, but now I have to leave to downtown. I'll probably still get my chance to do it later tonight, anyway. That is, unless someone of you goes at it first... *threatening hiss*[/QUOTE] [FONT=Arial]Don't tempt me.[/FONT]

[align=justify][size=1]I didn?t return to Headquarters immediately. After seeing the newbie safely to the Community district, I took to the thread-tops again ? less member traffic to worry about, and right now, I badly needed a bit of space. Not for my own sake, though. Admittedly, my destination ? the Inn, where the more fantasy-oriented denizens of the Boards gathered to create their next grand, epic adventure, and where I lurked now and again ? wouldn?t seem like the best place to search for solitude, but then I was a paradoxical person, and I knew exactly what I was doing. I dropped to an alley between the sub-forums easily, my wool-knit overcoat falling around me Matrix-esque. (Lord knew how many ?Neo? jibes I?d received since I?d taken to wearing it, and how many times I?d had to correct those who?d ignorantly mistook it for a trenchcoat.) After making certain I hadn?t unduly disturbed anything from its original place, I joined the main flow of traffic and slipped through the Inn?s entrance. The Inn?s interior always reminded me of Dr. Who?s TARDIS ? bigger on the inside, always with room for another idea. I removed my shades, pocketing them inside my coat, and headed for the back, where all of the ideas, materials, characters, and plotlines were created and forged together. Beyond that was the empty space I sought, where I could be alone with my thoughts, but I had a proverbial forest to navigate first. Unconsciously, my appearance altered, since my mind was elsewhere and I was no longer exerting such a large degree of focus at maintaining its usual congenial, bemused appearance. G.A. wasn?t the only one I had seen affected by the sudden influx of personnel, and the collective disarray of my teammates was starting to affect even me. Follow that with my failure to decloak the mole, instead building a huge case against an innocent, and then the incident between our returned spy and the defector, and it was all I could do to keep a straight face. I had exerted a violent effort simply to keep from rushing back and knocking Gavin to the ground, and I was certain the newbie had felt me twitch. They were minute changes, all of them ? my easy stride lengthening, slowing; my relaxed jaw setting; the corners of my mouth dropping ever so slightly; my half-lidded eyes opening, fixing their gaze straight forward; my head tilting forward a few degrees ? but the effect was as good as if I had had seven pissed off bodyguards, all built like the Rock, surrounding me. No one came within twenty feet of me unless they simply didn?t see me coming. One member, distracted by the plethora of tales being spun, bumped solidly into my right side. Though I gave at his sudden pressure, I didn?t even acknowledge the contact, and it was three strides later before my shoulders completely re-aligned. My left hand slipped into the side pocket of my open coat as I walked; it probably helped, I observed absently, that my jeans were the only article of clothing I was currently wearing that wasn?t black. An unintentional wardrobe bonus, but a bonus nonetheless. It also occurred to me that I might need more green or orange shirts. Red, black, and burgundy were becoming a little boring, and I only had one blue. With my path thus unobstructed, I quickly departed from the active sites and moved easily through the dormant, forsaken, or otherwise inactive ones to the very back, a vast expanse of what essentially amounted to creative ether. Whether they knew it or not, this was what gave life to the endless creations the Inn saw monthly. This was at once the stuff of legends and failures. I plunged into it without a second thought, my pace unchanging, my posture unyielding. I continued in this manner for some time, until I could no longer see anything behind me, and then I walked some more. At last, satisfied that I was at a sufficient distance from the rest of the Inn?s occupants, I stopped. Gathering some of the ether in my hands, I fashioned a large pair of headphones for myself, placing them over my ears and plugging the jack into small box on my belt. I ran a test track, getting the feel for the needed volume and EQ, and, satisfied with the settings I had chosen, I let the box work. The first tones that struck my ear were haunting and ethereal; I recognized the music as Sting?s ?Desert Rose?, and I couldn?t have thought of a better way to start. Leaning back on the ether, I let the music penetrate me, resonating with my mind, and I let go. My precise control dissipated, and my focus left, taken with the music. The violent storm of restrained emotion took over instantly, and I instinctively began crafting stories all about me, my imagination a pen on the infinite canvas before my hands. At each track?s end, a new one began, with barely a pause between them ? Alfred Reed?s [I]Russian Christmas Music[/I]; Nightwish?s ?Ghost Love Score?; Mahler?s [I]Symphony No. 5[/I]; E.S. Posthumus?s ?Antissa?; Chris Botti?s [I]Lisa[/I]; and on and on ? and I moved with them all, becoming part of the music, using each?s sound as fuel for my creative fire. Civilizations rose and fell under my hands; dozens of unfinished stories came to life and faded again; hundreds of characters danced before me, each one completely unique, each one somehow touched, tainted, with a part of my identity. Tears streamed down my face without my knowledge. My mood swung erratically from one extreme to another, to yet another, each new emotion reflected exactly by my countenance, and still I painted. I?d left my body behind many tracks ago, ensconced in my visions. It was going to take a lot to bring me back.[/size][/align]

[quote name='Rachmaninoff']Wow, shockingly short post by Allamorph! Hehe, I kid.[/quote] [FONT=Arial]Yeah, I run with what I see. Sometimes it takes longer to get there than others. (You should see my Temple sketch from my Veridan IV timeline. That just went bonkers.)[/FONT]

[quote name='XxXLolitaGothXxX][COLOR=Purple']If you've seen my title, it reads : cute with a twisted personality. That is what mine name stands for.[/COLOR][/quote] [FONT=Arial]Just thought I'd ask: you do know that "lolita" is female slang for "lowlife", right? Really, really bad connotations there, and I'm not picking up on anything cute from that, unless it's the triple 'x's. Again, just thought I'd ask. Oh, and I got the Pandora reference as well. I probably don't even want to look into [COLOR=DarkRed]Wet Cement[/COLOR]'s title. :D [COLOR=DarkRed]Megiddo[/COLOR]'s, on the other hand, mentions the only two things in life that can mold one into a better person. So props. You might want to try reading anything by Dostoevsky. [COLOR=DarkRed]taperson[/COLOR], you have the fish, and a nice little quote from Anne Frank that I actually agree with. And FYI: Boo is a terrorist. Both his title and sig are inside jokes; the former is a play off of fellow terrorist Papa Smurf, currently under the moniker The Blue Bomber, and the latter is the sound that the shockwave of a bomb makes. Platypusses (platypi?) are just evidence that God has a sense of humor. I probably wouldn't want to run into [COLOR=DarkRed]Curse[/COLOR] in a dark alley. (Funny thing; I've been meaning to change my sig for a little bit now. I chose those lyrics then because they struck me as rather sardonic.) The only other thing I have to say to you is.... [size=+1][I]Fuu!!![/I][/size][/FONT]