DeLarge

[SIZE=1]Even if MCR are considered "emo," which I personally don't think they are, great music is defined by the passion that goes into it, not by the genre. I don't think that MCR are "great," in fact I don't really like them at all, but classing them as emo and then degrading them because of it is just plain stupid. I mostly don't like them, though, because Gerard Way is one of those people (much like Tom DeLonge) that I just find inherently punchable. I just see him and want to hit him, and then he opens his mouth and I want to hit him more. But, you see, I have a reason for disliking them, and don't do it simply because they are seen by some people as "emo." [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]It's You [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1]by [B]The Littlest Man Band [/B]- TLMB are like nothing I've ever heard before. Basically a sort of acoustic pop-rock outfit (guitar, bass, drums, piano) but with horns added in for good effect. They're really fun to listen to, but I especially like this song, as the guitar rhythm combined with the quirky, fun vocals just make me feel good. Also check out [B]Always Sayin' [/B]and [B]Drunk Again [/B]if you can find them. [B]Drinkin' For 11 [/B]by [B]The Mad Caddies [/B]- nice little melodious ska number. It just reminds me of one of the best summers I ever had, and can make me smile no matter what, even with the slightly depressing lyrics. Actually, if I'm listing songs that remind me of summer, then [B]This Velvet Glove [/B]by [B]The Red Hot Chili Peppers [/B]is really good as well - when the backing vocals come in during the second verse, it never fails to send shivers down my spine. [B]One Step Beyond [/B]by [B]Madness [/B]- the first "cool" song I ever learnt to play on my saxophone, and I play it a lot. Just fun and upbeat, really good to dance around to (and no irritating lyrics to learn, either!) [B]Invincible [/B]by [B]Muse [/B]- if you can get hold of the live version of this song, I really recommend it. The song is just so epic to listen to, and the guitar solo made me want to weep the first time I ever heard it. I didn't, obviously, because I'm a manly man, but I wanted to. [B]Trains [/B]by [B]Porcupine Tree - [/B]really cool, mellow song going a little heavier later on. Incredible vocals on it, lyrics are a little nonsensical, but you can forgive them of that. Pretty haunting stuff, for the most part. [B]Everything Goes Numb [/B]by [B]Streetlight Manifesto [/B]- more ska, I'm afraid, and don't even try to sing along with this one. The vocals are incredibly fast, but the composition of horns and rhythm is really technical, but not to the extent that it sounds messy. It's just really well put together, I guess. [B]I'm In Love With My Car [/B]by [B]Queen [/B]- one of the lesser-known songs, which always amazes me for one very good reason - I am always impressed by a drummer who can sing while playing the drums. Roger Taylor does an excellent job in this song. [B]The Real Me [/B]by [B]The Who - [/B]as a bassist, I love songs with great basslines, and very few of them even come close to this one. It's almost inaudible at some points due to crummy mixing, but when you hear it, you know you're hearing one of the masters of bass. The Ox at his finest, and I think perhaps the best tribute to his work that you can find. [B]The Enemy [/B]by [B]You Me and the Enemy - [/B]this one's a little more obscure, as the band were never signed, but you can download it for free off their MySpace, and I believe it may be on iTunes somewhere as well. Really, unbelievably funky, with young Aretha Franklin-esque female vocals on as well. Makes me feel glad to be alive. These are just those that I can think of right now - I will probably add more some other time. Hope you like at least some of them! [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Self-esteem is important, but only in certain areas of life and only to certain degree. I have friends who have practically zero self-esteem, and the lack of it only seems to succeed in making them miserable quite a lot of the time. Conversely, I also know people who are so cocky and full of the stuff that they end up being really irritating to know. Self-esteem doesn't magically make you smarter, as Indi said it is simply the quality that spurs you on to try harder after you've failed. However, there have been numerous psychological tests which have shown that good self-esteem can lead to a healthier life. If you feel good about yourself, whether it's your mind or your body, your relationships or work that you feel good about, that good feeling tends to spill over into other aspects of your life. Hence the reason why people in a really happy relationship tend to be a lot more confident than some shrinking violet singleton. So yes, I think self-esteem is important, but it shouldn't be dictated by other people - I think parents bigging their kids up to some ridiculous degree whereupon they start acting out is pretty obscene, if I'm honest. I think people should make themselves feel good with what they've achieved, and not need anyone else to tell them how they should feel. Of course, I'm not saying that parents shouldn't congratulate their kids for doing well on a test, but you've got to keep it to a sensible level - don't encourage kids to ascend their own ivory tower. (Wow, that was rambling...) [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]"Hey buddy! Give this thing what for, will ya?" [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1]shouted the other Hunter, his voice garbled from the strain of holding the one-armed Ghast back. Jax pushed himself to his feet, grabbed his staff again and aimed the end at the Ghast's head, where Manjusra's Brand still glowed with stark white light. [B]"Adhaero," [/B]he said, drawing his willpower in and focusing it into the tip of the staff, which began to glow like embers in a fireplace, [B]"Adhaero, Adhaero, [I]Adhaero![/I]" [/B]He shouted the word, the glow of his staff increasing until the tip was white-hot, like a poker that had been left in the fire for a long time. With a concerted effort, he pulled the staff back and slammed it into the Ghast's head, sending both Hunter and Hunted flying backwards with the shockwave of thermal energy. The other Hunter dropped his power, wiping the trickle of blood that had formed at the corner of his mouth, and ran over to where Jax was picking himself up. [B]"That was some power you displayed there, buddy," [/B]the Hunter said, offering his hand to Jax, who didn't take it, getting up under his own power. It was a pride thing. [B]"Yeah, but it was too unrefined to do any real damage. I've never really been able to focus my energy that well - that's what the staff is for," [/B]Jax replied, pulling his staff from the wreckage that was the ground floor of the building. [B]"I don't think that thing's done for yet, though," [/B]the unknown Hunter replied, turning to see the Ghast haul itself from the wreckage, the fires of hell burning in it's eyes. [B]"Ah crap," [/B]said Jax, [B]"What more can we do? I've already broken this thing's neck, stabbed it between the eyes with a knife, set it on fire and blasted enough power into it's head to punch a hole in a building. How much damage can this bastard take?" "Tell me about it. I cut the thing's arm off and unloaded my gun into it close-range. Chase, by the way," [/B]he said, offering his hand. [B]"Jackson, or Jax if you like," [/B]the older Hunter replied, shaking the proffered hand, [B]"But enough pleasantries - what do you say we show this thing what Hunters can really do?" "Can't think of anything better to do," [/B]Chase replied, drawing his weapons, prompting Jax to do the same. [B]"Come on, ugly," [/B]Jax whispered, staff in one hand, revolver in the other, ready for the thing to attack. In a burst of movement, the Ghast set off towards them at a charge, snarling and snorting as it ran... [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]If Tarzan drank moonshine.[/B][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Ignoring the medical and pharmaceutical aspects for a moment, the thing that a lot of people don't realise is that people on acid, for the most part, are really boring. I've spoken to people while they were on the stuff, and it's not trippy and psychedelic like the common stereotype. It makes them stare at totally innocuous things like wallpaper for hours on end, claiming that they can see patterns in it. There's only a small percentage of people who can wail like Hendrix while on acid, and one of them was, funnily enough, Hendrix. And that was only because he was good at guitar before he took the acid. If his excuse is that it was part of the conception of modern music, slap him upside his stupid head. And if he thinks that taking acid is going to be his gateway into the rock'n'roll lifestyle, slap him harder. The majority of music written and performed while the artist was under the influence of anything was crap, it's just the ones that were good, like Hendrix, that stick in people's minds. Think of Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty - they started on the drugs and booze and now they are the laughing stock of the music industry. There's plenty of great music that was written sober, so try and make him focus on that. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Jax was halfway to his arms supplier's house when his PDA buzzed in his pocket. He stopped, leant against a lamp-post and pulled it from his pocket, opening the new message. He stood for a few moments in calm contemplation, reading through the message three or four times. Then he closed the message, tucked his PDA away and rubbed his hands across his face and through his hair. This freak clearly meant business. Whoever it was had gone to a lot of trouble to discover the identities of every single Hunter on the network, and something willing to do that amount of work never meant anything less than a whole heap of trouble. He had scanned the replies to the thread, but ignored them - the less-experienced Hunters had reacted badly to the threat, and begun to shoot their mouths off, getting angry unnecessarily. Jax saw no reason to be anything other than calm about this. He needed to keep his head together in order to beat whatever had sent this message. His thoughts were disrupted by a second message buzzing through, and he knew exactly what was coming before he even took his PDA out of his pocket. [B]"New Orleans," [/B]he muttered under his breath after reading the second message, [B]"Long way from here." [/B]He slipped his PDA back, thought for a moment, then changed his direction and began heading towards the nearest travel agent. He needed a plane ticket to New Orleans, and he needed it promptly. --- Standing outside the small, dingy travel shop, Jax's PDA buzzed a third time. This was unusual - he didn't let just anybody have his number. It continued buzzing, indicating a phone call rather than a message. He pulled the device from his pocket again, and looked at the number. [B]"Sword, what can I do for you?" [/B]he asked impatiently as he answered. He listened intently for a few moments, nodding along with the conversation. [B]"The same Ghast?" [/B]he asked, not quite believing what he was hearing, [B]"Where is he?"[/B] As soon as he knew the answer, he hung up and began running. He recognised the location as a disused hotel - the perfect place for an ugly beastie like the super-Ghast to hide out. --- As soon as he arrived, a little out of breath (he knew he should have left that most recent cigar), he could hear sounds of a scrap from inside. A few seconds later, something burst through the outside wall, landing in the plaster dust at Jax's feet. He recognised the face, bloodied though it was, of the Ghast from the building-top, although it had somehow found a change of clothes since then, and it's burns and other wounds had healed a lot quicker than usual. [B]"Hello, ugly," [/B]he snarled down at the thing, pulling his shotgun out of his jacket... [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Just wondering, are there any supernatural beasties out there that don't mind helping us out? Or are they all out for our blood? Also, did we ever decide on a definite location for our characters (mine, Raiha's, Engel's, Talon's and anyone else I may have forgotten who is supposed to be in the same area)? Because we've got to get to New Orleans, which is a long way from Maine, if that's where we're supposed to be. I'm guessing a plane trip or something is in order? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Hurrah! I'm a villain! A nude villain, admittedly, but a villain nonetheless. Another side-splitting installment, DW, you have a gift. Where [I]are [/I]my clothes? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]This sounds like a really interesting way of doing a superhero RP - it's really different from many things I've seen before. And who doesn't love to be a bad guy every now and then. Although with the idea of a "league" of supervillains, surely there'd be some kind of in-fighting. I mean, with all these supervillains on the same team, surely there would be some power struggles or something going on. Basically, I'm trying to ask, in a very roundabout way, would there be a leader, or a "head" of the supervillain's "union"? Or would it all be a little more chaotic than that? With your influences you listed, are we thinking sort of a dark kind of a world, but with a sense of irony running throughout? Because Batman Beyond and the animated series of Superman are pretty serious, but The Venture Bros. is more tongue-in-cheek - so a combination of the two would be half-serious, am I right? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I just realised that most of our male Hunters enjoy a healthy breakfast of beer. I wonder which is going to kill us first, the freaks or liver disease? [/SIZE]

[I][SIZE=1]Help me, Jackson...help me... [/SIZE][/I][SIZE=1]Jax awoke with a start, his breathing heavy and his body covered in sweat. He ran a hand across his face, shivering in the cold perspiration, then laid back down, burying his head in the pillow. These nightmares had begun not long ago, and he was unsure why. He dreamt of something that had happened a long time ago, something he had blocked from his memory for years. For some reason, it had begun to resurface recently, and they were starting to get in Jax's head. He rolled out of bed, his torso glistening with the cold sweats of the night before. He had slept with his trousers and boots still on, in case he had to leap to action at any point in the night - it was much easier to pull a t-shirt on than to put trousers and boots on. Stumbling to his kitchen and rubbing his eyes to wake himself up, he yanked open the fridge, pulling a bottle of microbrewed ale out. He realised that you weren't supposed to refridgerate ale, but he needed something cold. He twisted the top off, and completed his morning routine by grabbing a cigar from the kitchen counter, biting the end off and twisting it into his mouth. He picked up a box of matches, struck one and held the flame to the end of the cigar. A puff of smoke billowed out, and he leaned his head back in appreciation. With his bizarre breakfast in hand, he dropped down onto the seat in front of his computer desk and logged on to Hunter-Net. There were some more messages from the night before, including a video post from Salvage485 showing an autopsy of a Weiland, which Jax watched with mild fascination. It was interesting enough, but the conclusion worried him a little. [B]"Suggested mutation?" [/B]he whispered to himself, taking another drag on the cigar, [B]"Something's going on. Mutated Weilands and this super-Ghast - these freaks are getting stronger." [/B]He opened a new thread and began writing. --- [I]Discussion > New Thread [/I]Thread Starter: Wanderer59 Topic: New Freaks Is there any new information regarding commonly-known freaks mutating or changing in some way? I see from Salvage485's autopsy that there is a suggested mutation in the Weiland population, and as some of you may know already I had a rumble with a Ghast much stronger than any other I've encountered. I'm beginning to see an odd sort of pattern emerge, and I was wondering if there was anything more to add to this pattern. If you've encountered any freaks stronger than normal, please respond to this thread. --- He created the thread, then leant back in his chair. He needed to talk to a few contacts to try and hunt down some more powerful ordinance. So he pulled on a shirt, drained the last of his beer, and finished his cigar. Then he opened his closet, and spun the shelves around to reveal a stockpile of weaponry. Assault rifles, shotguns, handguns, grenades, knives, a sword, a long halberd, plastic explosives, throwing stars and homemade nail-bombs. He grabbed a shotgun sawn off to an illegal length, and tucked it into a holster, slinging it onto his back. He grabbed a few more shells, stuffing them onto a bandolier which he slung around his chest. Then he put on his gunbelt and pulled his jacket on over the weaponry, making sure there were a few knives hanging from the inside of the jacket. He just hoped that he wouldn't run into any cops out there. Then he'd be pretty screwed. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]If you got chills watching Turn Left, you're in for something [I]huge [/I]when watching The Stolen Earth and Journey's End. Seriously - The Stolen Earth left me with my jaw hanging wide open at the end, and I almost cried at three different points during Journey's End. David Tennant's performance in all of them is incredible, especially [spoiler]when he discovered that Davros, creator of the Daleks, had escaped the Time War, and when he had to say goodbye to all his companions once again[/spoiler]. It just showed that there were dozens of tiny little references in the entire revived series to the end of series four - the [spoiler]montage in which Davros reminds the Doctor of everyone who has died in his name[/spoiler], and the theme of [spoiler]missing planets and the Darkness spreading across the universe.[/spoiler] The only disappointing thing was that [spoiler]Rose didn't really have a huge part to play - she seemed to just be there to bring out emotion in the Doctor[/spoiler], but other than that the series finale was [I]absolutely incredible.[/I] I loved every minute. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]It was definitely a good day - this great big concert at Royal Albert Hall with Noel Fielding and friends, ending with a live performance by the Mighty Boosh band. Then, as if that wasn't enough, we met Noel and Julian (as well as Dave Brown, Mike Fielding and Rich Fulcher) after the show outside the stage door. Missed the last train home, but it was worth it. For those of you not familiar with the madness that is Boosh, [B][URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBHGBWicAtM"]here[/URL][/B]'s a link to a pretty good clip. Watch it, let the insanity wash over you. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Umm, I've met a lot of random British comedians in my time. I met Michael Palin (most famously of Monty Python) at a book signing once, as well as Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt (who make up The Mighty Boosh, a surreal British comedy double act who are becoming huge over here) after a concert at the Royal Albert Hall. I've also met Richard Coyle of Coupling fame, as well as Richard E. Grant in Henley, where I used to go to college. I've also met a couple of member of Reel Big Fish when they were doing a gig in London (namely John Christianson and Dan Regan, the trumpet and trombone players respectively). And members of a slightly less well-known band called Army of Freshmen at the same gig. Also, I used to go to an after-school club where one of the people who worked there turned out to be Kate Winslet's brother. I don't know if that counts. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Jax stood, showered and refreshed, watching the Hive of Crawlers burn with white-hot flame. He had been a little too late, stopping in his apartment to check his emails after the shower had sluiced off any of the Ghast's blood that remained. [B]"If Wild143 hadn't sent me that bloody message," [/B]he muttered, trailing off even in his own thoughts. He was pretty sure that the Mother, the Queen if you will, had been taken care of by whichever Hunter had got there before him. There were no leftover Crawlers for him to take care of, and that was usually a pretty good sign that the Mother had been killed. He pulled his PDA out again, switching it back on and logging on to the internet as he left the scene, hoping once more that the police wouldn't be onto him. A message flashed up on his screen, and he recognised the number as Manjusra's. He lifted the PDA to his ear and listened intently for the few moments that the the message played. [B]"Fuck," [/B]he stated simply as he disconnected from the message service. If the Ghast he had encountered earlier was as powerful as Manjusra had said, and he believed in her and her Sight more than anything else, then the city was in for a whole world of shit. If his aura was still big enough and powerful enough to scare her, even after Jax had personally broken the thing's neck [I]and [/I]set it on fire, then it was definitely bad news. Usually Ghasts decreased in power when injured so badly - they had to put some of their energy into fusing broken bones back together, healing flesh wounds and such. But if this one still has as much energy in it's aura as Manjusra had suggested then Jax was in for a lot of trouble. If she had suggested he needed an RPG, then he would have to find one. He definitely didn't have that kind of artillery at any of his safehouses, so he would have to find an outside source that could provide one. Either way, the best bet was to hole himself up in his apartment for the night and wait until morning to sort things out. He needed to rest, to get his head together, and try and sort things out for himself. Going into dangerous situations half-cocked never worked out well for him. He needed to talk to Manjusra again, but looking at his watch he knew that she would be asleep by now. That idea seemed rather tempting to him as well, so he began the short walk back to his apartment. He'd been up for the best part of forty-eight hours, so he felt he deserved a little rest before the following day's exertions. Once he got back and dropped onto his own bed, he was asleep almost immediately, and it wasn't likely that much could wake him for a good few hours yet. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Pure, ice-cold panic coursed through the young girl's veins as she ran up the stairs, constantly looking back to see if the thing following her was far behind. She heard noises, shuffling and thudding noises that suggested that the creature wasn't far away, but she could never see it. She stumbled on the stairs, and immediately felt the thing's hot, stinking breath on the nape of her neck. Swallowing a scream, she struggled to her feet and continued up the stairs, kicking back at the thing. Feeling contact with the creature's face, she ran harder than before, trying desperately to reach the top of the stairs. Cold night air hit her square in the face as she wrenched the door open and ran out onto the roof, where she realised her mistake. There was nowhere to run from here. [B] "You look delicioussss,"[/B] hissed the creature through overlarge teeth, [B]"All the better for the chasssse."[/B] She whirled around to face the creature, and saw the horror that had befallen her. The creature looked as though it could have been human once - in fact, the tattered remains of a black business suit hung around it's haunches. But it was hunched over, on all fours like a wild cat. It's fingers had extended into long, pointed claws, and it's jaw seemed to hang loose from the rest of it's face, the mouth filled with enormous, sharpened teeth. Black hair hung limply into it's crimson eyes, and smudges of green blood were smeared across it's face. [B] "W-what the hell are you?"[/B] she stammered, fear causing her whole body to shake as she backed towards the edge of the building. [B] "Something nasty,"[/B] came a third, new voice, and two black-gloved hands reached, apparently out of nowhere, and grabbed the creature's head on either side, twisting with a sharp, jerking movement, snapping it's neck with a sickening crack. The creature fell limply to the floor, flopping down like a ragdoll. [B] "I've been looking for this son of a bitch for a long time,"[/B] came the voice, gravelly and deep, but with a softer edge than one might expect. The girl looked at him - he was an older man, perhaps late thirties, his face cloaked in shadow from the black hood he had pulled up. He shifted a little in his leather jacket and wiped the traces of green blood from his gloves on his black trousers. [B]"What was that thing?"[/B] she asked, her voice quaking with fear as she looked up at the man in awe. [B]"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with,"[/B] he said, turning away from her and crouching over the creature's body, [B]"It's better if you just forget this ever happened." "How am I supposed to do that?" "That's not my problem,"[/B] he replied, pulling open the thing's eyes and peering into them, [B]"Just go." "No. Not until I get an explanation of what that thing was," [/B]she said stubbornly, folding her arms, her confidence apparently restored. [B]"You want an explanation?"[/B] he asked, standing up and turning back to her, [B]"That was a Ghast - a creature of unimaginable malevolence. If he'd caught you, he would have knocked you to the ground, clawed open your chest and eaten your heart while you watched. He would have gorged himself on you from the inside out until there was nothing left but a skeleton with shreds of meat hanging off the bones. And that's if you're lucky. If you were unlucky, he'd have torn your skin off while you still lived, raped you and eaten your face. Good enough for you?"[/B] The girl said nothing, but instead looked shocked and sickened by the response. [B]"Well, you asked,"[/B] he said, turning back to the body. Which wasn't there. [B]"Oh, shit,"[/B] he said, looking around the rooftop, [B]"Where is he? Where the fu..."[/B] His last question was cut short by the bloodthirsty and now very pissed off creature leaping towards him, claws and fangs bared, ready for the kill. In the last split-second before impact, he managed to roll out of the way of the initial assault, although a claw did leave a fairly hefty scratch down one arm of his jacket. [B]"Bastard,"[/B] he snarled, running to the open doorway and grabbing something from behind it. When he emerged, he was holding a long, dark wooden staff, which he held in a fighting stance, perhaps bojitsu or kendo. [B]"Come on, ugly, where are you?"[/B] he whispered to himself, stalking slowly across the rooftop, turning in circles so the thing couldn't attack him from behind. [B]"Over here, asssshole,"[/B] the thing hissed. He whirled around and saw the ghoul, now in the upright position, standing with his arm around the girl's neck, dragging a long talon over the soft skin of her neck. [B]"You think I care about her? I'll shoot through her if I have to,"[/B] he said, pulling a long-barrelled revolver from inside his jacket and levelling it at the girl, knowing that the bullet would come out with enough force to go straight through her and into the Ghast. [B]"You're bluffing,"[/B] replied the Ghast, a little hesitantly, scratching a tiny wound open on the girl's neck with the tip of his talon, [B]"You Hunters don't hurt innocents." "That's a risk you're going to have to take," [/B]the Hunter said, placing his staff on the floor and reaching inside his jacket with his now-free hand. [B]"Get another gun out and I'll kill her,"[/B] snarled the Ghast, dragging his long, slimy tongue across her cheek, much to her disgust. [B]"Fine,"[/B] replied the Hunter, pulling his hand out of his jacket and flinging it towards the Ghast. A whizzing sound ripped through the air, and a split second later the Ghast keeled over backwards, a long-bladed knife stuck between his eyes. Green blood spurted from the wound, covering the girl in the viscous substance, and she screamed in terror and disgust. The Hunter knelt down and picked up his staff, then walked over to the Ghast, staff in one hand, revolver in the other. The creature was lying motionless, face frozen in a look of agony and horror, and the Hunter holstered his revolver inside his jacket, took his staff in both hands, whispered something incoherent, and slammed the tip down on the creature's chest. Bright flames licked from the point of contact, spreading across the Ghast's body, eventually engulfing it in flickering, white-hot flame. The Hunter lifted his staff, and walked away, past the girl, towards the door. [B]"Go home. Shower and change. Then forget this ever happened - forget the Ghast, but most of all forget you ever saw me,"[/B] he said coldly, then went through the door and disappeared into the darkness. --- Jax looked up to the top of the building, where the Ghast's burning body was sending smoke billowing high into the air. He could vaguely hear sirens in the distance, which meant that someone had spotted the smoke and reported it - fire crews and police teams would be on their way, and he was no friend of either. Jogging round the corner, away from the building, he pulled his PDA out of the inside pocket of his jacket, and turned it on. Normally he didn't like having too much technology on him - some of the things he did sometimes interfered with it, and made it basically useless in the end - but since he travelled so much, the PDA was vital to keep in the loop with Hunter business. It also had a digital radio, an MP3 player and a cellphone contained within, so it eliminated the need for more than one piece of equipment There were a whole bunch of emails, a number from companies asking if he'd like to increase the size of his manhood, some from "Kayleigh, 18 and single," and a few from the Hunters. One immediately caught his eye, however. [B]"Crawler infestation, huh?"[/B] he muttered to himself, [B]"All in a night's work."[/B] He logged out and punched in a number he knew pretty well. However, he hesitated before calling. Manjusra enjoyed her privacy - it's probably one of the reasons she was a Hermit, and definitely the reason why he was one of only six people who had her cellphone number. She wasn't a big fan of humanity in general, and as such lived mostly as a recluse. Her condition wouldn't have helped much, either. Jax could appreciate her desire for privacy - he hadn't had a proper relationship, romantic or friendly, in a number of years. He understood that, in some ways, loneliness was the curse of the Hunter. It had improved slightly since the hunter-net had been developed, allowing Hunters from totally disparate locations to get in contact with each other, but it was still a solo gig, really. [B] "Needs must,"[/B] he decided, and called the number, holding the PDA up to his ear. The line rang five times and then went to the machine. After listening to the programmed message, Jax simply said: [B]"Optica...Manjusra, it's Jackson. I need to know if you've heard anything about new Ghasts in town. I've just met one and he's not one of the old guard. I left him on fire, but you know what these bastards are like. Call me back when you can." [/B] He hung up without a proper sign-off, and tucked his PDA back into his pocket. Then headed off downtown to help Sword224 and Shield223 with a Crawler infestation. All in a night's work.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Jax has been wandering for twenty years, so I figure he could have been to lots of places he could have bumped into various other characters in his time. My thought was that he doesn't have a fixed abode, but has safehouse/apartment style dealies in various cities of the world. His uncle left him some cash when he died, so he can afford to essentially be a drifter. An up-market drifter with loads of houses, admittedly, but a drifter nonetheless. So, yeah, I'm up for some character history, and it would appear I'm easy in terms of location. And as a side note on the Ghasts, they may be like supernatural cockroaches, but they don't generally travel in numbers - I reckon pairs or threes at the most, but generally they go solo. [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]Ghasts [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1]Ghasts are horrific creatures, ridiculously resilient and always hungry for human flesh. They can appear perfectly human, walking upright, talking normally and acting as though they are anything but cold-blooded killing machines. As soon as they are preparing for the hunt, their bone structure changes, allowing them to move from walking upright like a human to bounding along on all fours like a hyena. They can climb walls with their elongated claws, and are incredibly agile. Their mouths also become much wider, their jaws often dislocating much like a snake's, and their fangs are long and sharp. Ghasts are incredibly difficult to kill - the only sure-fire way to do it is to remove the head and destroy it, or to dismember them completely. Their wounds heal very quickly, although serious injury will take a little longer to recover from. For example, if you break a Ghast's spine, it probably won't be able to do much for a few days, but after that it will hunt you down and rip you to shreds. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I was under the impression that the comic book was supposed to be about pure escapism - the office drone who finally breaks free of the tedium to become a super-assassin, the ultimate in escaping repression. I thought as an exercise in pushing how far escapism can go, the film was good - the action sequences were just over-the-top enough, and although the story had holes in it the size of the Grand Canyon it was easy to overlook this as a pure adrenaline-fuelled thrill ride. I mean, [spoiler]bending bullets just by "believing you can"[/spoiler]? [spoiler]A loom that predicts the future[/spoiler]? I'd be the first to say a big "WTF" to all of that. And if [spoiler] we're supposed to be "taking control of our own destiny," should we still be following instructions given by a bloody loom as Wesley was at the end of the film[/spoiler]? I also found Morgan Freeman's character to be far too one-dimensional. He started off being a bit of an arsehole because he was making people [spoiler]beat Wesley up, and cut him with knives and stuff[/spoiler], and ended up being a total arsehole for [spoiler] trying to make everyone kill Wesley[/spoiler]. However, as many of the rest of you did, I thoroughly enjoyed [spoiler]Wesley's office rant - in fact I almost cheered when he tonked his "mate" round the face with the keyboard[/spoiler]. So, is it a fantastic movie? By no means. It's not even the best action movie I've ever seen (if we're talking over-the-top action and high body counts, Die Hard wins). But as an example of how far escapism has brought us it is a good one. In having Wesley escape his hum-drum office life and become a super-assassin, we are given two hours of escape from our hum-drum lives. (Damn, you can tell I'm a film student, can't you?) [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]The Sam and Frodo bit is so much funnier if you read Sam's lines in his accent. Also, wtf?! I have possibly the most random part to play in this story. But fair's fair, I would totally drop my pants in that situation. Or most situations, for that matter. And if I had a barrel that I stayed in then "Stayin' Alive" would definitely be my barrel-based theme tune. I'm waiting to see if this evolves into anything even slightly more DMC-shaped, but either way I'll be enjoying it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Jackson "Jax" Gray [B]Hunter-Net Name:[/B] Wanderer59 [B]Age:[/B] 40 [B]Hair:[/B] Jet-black with salt-and-pepper speckling at the temples [B]Eyes:[/B] Incredibly dark brown, almost black [B]Height:[/B] 6' 0" [B]Weight:[/B] 175 lbs [B]Creed:[/B] Judge [B]Weapons:[/B] A long oak staff, fairly notched and scuffed from repeated use. He also carries a selection of knives and daggers inside his jacket, and a pair of Smith & Wesson Model 500 revolvers, loaded with silver-coated bullets. These are the weapons he carries on his person regularly, however, he has a large stockpile of different weapons in his apartment. [B]Edges: [/B] [B]Smite[/B] - Jax closes his fist, aims it at an enemy, and then flicks it open, and either speaks or shouts the word "Ardeo," depending on how powerful he wishes the attack to be. [B]Cleave[/B] - As he concentrates, and whispers the word "Adhaero," his staff explodes into flame, burning everything it touches. However, he has to be careful, as it doesn't discriminate between the freaks and other organic matter, such as plants or other humans. [B]Trail[/B] - By aiming his staff at an enemy and saying the word "Insisto," an invisible trail begins to leak off the enemy, like smoke. [B]Discern[/B] - He doesn't need to say anything for this one - he simply closes his eyes, concentrates and opens them again. [B]Blaze[/B] - He simply says "Amplio," and as long as he is looking at a light source, it explodes into a miniature sun of burning energy. [B]Rejuvenate[/B] - Jax simply needs to focus his energy on any injured part of his body, and it will heal over. Jax hasn't quite mastered this Edge, and as such any injury will still leave a scar. He's never needed it to, but he's also pretty sure it won't be able to grow limbs back. [B]Ward[/B] - He throws his hand up in front of him, palm towards his face, and a shield of blazing blue light appears from it. Again, not that strong, and can only withstand physical impact, not electrical or thermal energy, for example. Jax is a powerhouse - he isn't that great with using finesse in his attacks, usually relying on having a lot more power in his use of Edges. He also prefers the aggressive approach, and as such doesn't use his defensive edges a whole lot. [B]Appearance:[/B] Jax has the appearance of a man older than forty - his years of fighting have left him looking grizzled and battle-scarred. His face is tanned, weather-beaten and pitted with deep lines and scars, and his black hair is trimmed relatively short and spiky. A rough beard covers the lower half of his face as well. He is well-muscled from combat, and wears a simple black long-sleeved t-shirt and dark jeans, his feet clad in heavy leather boots. Generally when he ventures out, he wears an armoured vest, a complex Kevlar weave which has proven very useful in fighting against the freaks. He also throws on a black leather jacket with patches of the same Kevlar weave on the inside, over a hooded zip-up jacket. He has a pair of fingerless gloves which he puts on when fighting as well. [B]Biography:[/B] Most kids don't have the kind of upbringing I had. Then again, most kids have the luxury of knowing their parents. I was brought up from the age of eighteen months by my uncle Christian. He was very much of the opinion that love should be tough, and respect should be earned, and as such he was constantly putting me through my paces, training me to be a better, stronger, smarter version of what I was. He was an ex-military man, or so I assumed, and not a kind one by any stretch of the imagination. I remember I used to sneak around his big country house, and try to listen in on the conversations he had with the regular visitors there, but could only ever glean a few words from each conversation. However, one word I heard over and over again was "Hunter." I didn't know what it meant, and puzzled over it for a number of years, trying desperately to discover more about these "Hunters." One day, aged just fifteen, I found out the meaning of the word, and uncovered a whole world that would swallow me whole... [B]Imbuing: [/B]I remember it as if it was yesterday, because it is the day my whole life was turned upside down, and the day what little of my family that remained was torn away from me. I had heard a commotion downstairs while I was washing and dressing myself for the day's exertions, so I began to make my way down the huge flight of stairs very slowly. My uncle had some visitors over, and I assumed that they were arguing over some small thing, but Christian had always told me to be on my guard at all times. I reached the bottom of the stairs, and the ruckus seemed to grow in size and ferocity, moving from harsh words in raised voices to all-out acts of physical violence - I heard furniture being smashed and the all-too familiar sound of bone on bone as blows were exchanged. Taking a look round the kitchen door is my single biggest regret in life. What I was witness to that day will haunt me for the rest of my days, even though I have seen much worse happening in the streets. The reason is this: those other times were strangers. This was my uncle. The instant I looked round the door, I saw my uncle and three other men fighting for their lives against a pair of humanoid creatures, but ones which were not entirely human, I could tell this just from looking at them. They seemed skinnier, more lithe and sinewy than a human, their skin much, much paler, and a set of enormous fangs poking out from behind each of their lips. Blood gushed from a wound in my uncle's arm, and a similar stream of crimson dribbled from the mouth of one of the creatures. In all the confusion, I never remembered it, but I was always told my uncle had seen me, and raised his hand to throw a shield of energy around me. I believe that this was true because he took his attention away from the creatures for one second, and they took their chance. They leapt on my uncle, and in a flurry of blood, muscle and entrails, they ripped him apart. His lifeblood cascaded from his mangled body, and the creatures lapped it up like dogs. It was then that the other two men saw me, as my body coursed with white-hot rage. I wished death upon the creatures, seeing that they were filthy beasts who had no right to walk alongside the living, and all I remember is seeing the pair of them screaming and disintegrating into a cloud of ash and brimstone. By all accounts, it was then that I blacked out, and when I woke up I was in the care of the three Hunters that had been visiting my uncle, and until I was twenty and able to look after myself I was bounced around the care of a number of different Hunters, who taught me about the secret order - the lifespan of the average Hunter is not very long at all. Since the age of twenty, I have been, shall we say, "wandering the earth," dealing out my own particular brand of judgement against the freaks. Just pray that I don't find you guilty. -- I made the changes you suggested, Talon. Hope this is better for you. [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]Roxie[/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1], I was just in London for the day. I actually live in a little town about an hour away from the capital, so it's fairly easy to get there regularly. Hopefully, though, if my exam results pull through for me, I'll be moving there at the end of next year. Fingers crossed! Incidentally, looking great yourself! [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]Bird: [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1]Have I got something on my back? Simple and classic. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]There's a few varied ones of me in here. [B] [URL="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/me.jpg"]Me in my fancy keks[/URL] [URL="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/DSCF0146.jpg"]Before most recent haircut (argh beardy)[/URL] [URL="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/DSCF0149.jpg"]After most recent haircut[/URL] [URL="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/DSCF0143.jpg"]Before most recent haircut playing bass[/URL] [URL="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/trainpoint.jpg"]An older one of me on the Underground in London[/URL] [URL="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/meeee.jpg"]Basically my favourite picture of me - black and white is classy [/URL] [/B]I may upload some more at a later date, I may not. Oh, and might I just say, looking [I]sexy[/I], OB. [/SIZE]