Ravenstorture

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by PiroMunkie [/i] [B][color=indigo]Love for one's self (not in an arrogant or egotistical way). You can't get too far without that.[/color] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I agree, so many terrible and life threatening things stem from self-hate. It's very distracting, and every one suffers from it at some point in their lives. Even if it's just the passing thought, "My life would be so much better, if only I wasn't so damn [i]fat[/i]..." Sound familiar? [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic] When I was living in England three or four years ago, I visited my great uncle John and discovered a computer in his study. 386, or something... only thing on it was a word processor thing. Very ancient thing that displayed the words you typed but that was about it. I was testing out a few fonts and simple commands and wrote this poem, just as text to play around with. It was nothing, didn't mean anything, but I printed it and a week later it was published in my school's newletter as "Poem of the Month". I don't know why it was such a hit. Ended up winning twenty pounds for it for a magazine comp. People are strange. Twee and Twum "What shall we do today?" said Twee. "Well, Twee." said Twum, "I do not know." Twum turned to Twee and twummed aloud, Not hummed, but twummed, a perculiar sound. And as Twum Twums, it would only be, Appropriate for Twee to Twee. But as, of course, that would only be, a stupid abnormality, to have Twum Twumming is ok, But to have Twee Tweeing? Oh no, no way. Instead we'll have Twee wearing Tweed. (It is his style, and suits his hair.) So... where were we? Twee and tweed... It shall make people turn and stare to see such a lovely turned-down pair! Twum turned to the lovely turned-down Twee And said, "You're a lovely turned-down Twee!" "And," said Twee, "You're a nice Twumming Twum!" "Oh stop!" said Twum, "You're flattering me!" "Let's go for a walk, just for some fun!" And so they did, on an August Day, And surely enough, heads turned their way. [/color][/font]

[font=gothic][color=darkgreen] Legalise marijuana, outlaw tobacco products and alcohol. Or perhaps just tobacco. Healthier society, but hey - that's not what they care about. They care about money, money to be made, money to be spent. All government decisions will be based on the welfare of companies, executives, commerce, consumerism and TRADE. Who cares about cancer? Cancer pays, and that's unfortunately the bottom line. I hate cigarettes. Several memebers of my family, friends, friends' families and families' friends have died from smoking induced cancer. Sure, one in two hunderd and fifty or so people have an adverse reaction to marijuana, but my mother is a severe alcoholic. Alcoholism is so widespread that it is ignored. I view marijuana as a healthier alternative. Inhaling anything other than air into your lungs is unhealthy, but at least the weed is mainly untreated, chemical free. But of course, if money is going to be made from it, it has to be controlled. And the main reason it hasn't been legalised is because you can grow your own. I do. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=darkgreen][i]Spyder awoke the next morning, tired after a night and day of very little sleep and a lot of exercise. They still had not ventured further than the four posters of their blue-chiffon'd bed. Harlequin rolled over and opened his eyes to the visage of a brightly lit room, sunlight streaming in a window and the sillouette of a naked woman stretching, both feet and palms flat on the floor, her torso arched backwards. She brought one leg up and then the other, into a handstand, then continued the movement until she stood with her stomach facing downward. Standing, Spyder stared at her Harlequin and kissed his wrists before dressing and striding out into the daylight, pausing only to grab a lightbearing ornate ceremonial quaterstaff, obviously one of prestige and high rank, and slinging a bright blue shoulderbag over her neck. She wore cerulean blue velvet robes and her hair was braided through with blue ribbons and gold thread. Harlequin, knowing that she would not wait for him, leapt out of bed and was out the door twenty seconds later, the scent of jasmine and rotting flesh drifting behind them.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I don't want to go back to this place, but I thought I would say something. I had very, very bad psychological problems for a few years, since I was six or so, until about last year. Suicide, I tell people when I comfort and counsel them, is a sign of great weakness. But really, it is a very, very hard thing to do. I should know, I have tried a countless number of times and in so many different ways. I'm still here. My arms have been grafted, I have had a major blood transfer, I have lived in psychiatric hospitals most of my life but it's over now and everything is wonderful. I never thought it would get this good, but it did. Nothing is impossible, that's right kids, Even ol' Raven can sound like a supportive, uplifting twit. I'm just giving you my story. And just because I have new skin doesn't mean I don't have scars, just ask Harlequin... It takes strength, but it takes weakness... the main thing though is that it doesn't matter WHAT IT TAKES because you DON'T kill yourself to impress people. Pennylee Janke might try, but it would be a blessing if she did. I don't have anything to say in summary that won't make me sound like an idiot. I don't care what I sound like really, I just don't want to say something someone has said to me and made me thought, "Hey, that person has been no help whatsoever. She pulled that line out of a handbook, I swear..." [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Ahh, it's good to be back. Another topic of America Vs. Afghanistan/Iraq/Iran/Turkmenistan/anyone else who has nothing to lose and holds a slight grudge against the World SuperLeech? Yes, we all know I do not like America. Wouldn't it be nice if the queen turned around and said, "I do say, Australia, do stop licking America's anal passage for just a tic and do something with those scared, starcing children you seemed to ahve locked away somewhere. Don't go to war with Iraq, or I will get Rather Annoyed With you." (I'm not paying out the british, I am british.) And wouldn't it be great if America said, "Australia is great, but they should focus on their own problems. So sort yourselves out before you start on our business. Oh, and your prime minister is an idiot." And wouldn't it be ****ing wonderful if public schools had all the money they needed and the air force had to hold a cake stall to by a bomber? Meh, not gonna happen. So I'm just going to sit back and focus on my business, which, I am sad to say, is packing for a week-long military exercise in Greenbank. Last year we had one, we hooked all the ANPRC77 sets up and listened to George Bush wage war on Afghanistan on the ABC... small world, wouldn't want to paint it. [/color][/font]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Well, I like the way I am now because of you know who and his you know what with me. Ahem, ahem. but if it wasn't for that... 1) Can play piano, cello, guitar, drums perfectly and read music very fluently. 2)Can speak/read/write/understand spanish, japanese, french, german, gaelic, mandarin, cantonese, partugese, greek and arabic fluently. 3) More piercings. SSix down spine, three shellrim, tragum, six lobes, nose and tongue. Clean, fully developed and healed. (mmm, specifics...) 4) Concentration. I mean severe concentration, no matter what. 5)Cordon bleu cooking skills... 6) Very long, straight blueblack hair. 7) No freckles. 8) My own skin back on my arms... 9) Confidence. 10) * **** ** ** **** ***** **** ********* ******** ** *****. Now, there is a fine line between guacamole and pureed avocados. Youi add lemon joice to stop the dip going brown, salt, pepper, and either tobasco, cubed tomato, onion, garlic, paprika, whatever you want to make it taste like something that isn't just guacamole. Don't make it too runny, either, and iff you do and you have run out of avocados just mix some solid sour cream. Bon appetite.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]If you stay at home, on the net, with your REAL friends here on otaku, then none of this would have happened and will never happen again. (breath now, raven, it's ok, it's perfectly normal to spend this much time on the net...)[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Take our advice, when dealing with correspondance on the net, stick to hotmail. It has the effect of actually being able to think about what you are going to say without just saying it. Time pays, my friend!!! Our relationship began on the net, apart from the whole falling madly in love with oneanother as soon as we first laid eyes on eachother... my point it that chat rooms and instant message thingies suck, because you have to type so fast you can't think. What has this got to do with the topic, you ask? Well, I don't know. From what I discerned, your girlfriend is an idiot. You are all idiots! Never trust the internet, never. Chat rooms espectially. It is very easy to lie on the net because there is just text, no context. Stupid for even talking in a chat room, let alone discussing something vaguely important. Burn them all. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Harlequin awoke as Spyder climbed back into the bed. He looked at her, confused, and she took the garland of jasmine off her head and placed it on his own. [/i] Harlequin: What just happened? Spyder: I don't know... they did this kind of ritual thing on me and left. Harlequin: Did they look surprised? Spyder: Yeah, but they did it anyway. Harlequin: What are you going to do? Spyder: Find the real man in charge, I suppose. Harlequin: And then? Spyder: I don't know... I guess I'll burn that bridge when I come to it. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Alastuin smiled at eve and gripped her shoulder in a gesture of sisterhood.[/i] Alastuin: I would be honoured for you to join me on my quest. I had hoped that there would be more than you and I, but I am almost sure that we have a brilliant chance on our own. [i]This hint said, she glared at the others, daring them to move or speak in a way that did not please her.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Spyder and Davien continued through the darkness until suddenly a visage flashed around them. They were standing in a room, a plain room with white walls and grey carpet and grey venetians and grey furniture and a grey painting on the far wall. Davien looked at Spyder questioningly. She shrugged.[/i] Spyder: I don't know, it's different every time... most of the time it's the whole cave thing, every now and then you get a supermarket or a construction site. [i]A man walked in the open doorway, the sounds of phone conversations and typing wafting in after him. He was short, had grey hair and was wearing a right red suit. Spyder laughed when she saw him.[/i] Spyder: You have got to be joking! Prince Of Darkness: Hey, don't look at me. It's your perception. [i]Spyder ahhed and hmmed as the devil busied himself with some paperwork that obviously did not serve any purpose and probably didn't even exist.[/i] POD: I see that you... umm... why exactly are you here? Davien: Winged messenger of the stone variety. POD: Not mine... you may be in the place. Spyder: I KNOW I am in the wrong place. But you brought us here, so do whatever and let us out. POD: Hmmm.... Ok, so I did bring you here. But I can't for the devil of me remember why... Spyder: Ha ha. [i]She brings out her dagger and leaps forward, pinning his tie to the desk with it.[/i] Spyder: Don't mess around with us, I know as well as you that you exist no more than God/ess does. Belief. That is all. You expect me to believe this ********? [i]She gestures around the room, and it vanishes, leaving Davien and her in the darkness.[/i] What do you want from us, creep? POD: Vampyres. All of them. I want them to be mine. You are the only one of my own that has strong ties into that world. You know how to get them here, so do so. Starting with him... [i]Davien suddenly gasps and collapses sideways. Spyder grasps him tightly and screams. The devil laughed.[/i] Spyder: You cannot have me without him. I am not one of you anyway! POD: Technically, you are. Spyder: You can't do that. If anyone here need to abide the laws, it's you... your existance counts on it. I am his, no one elses. POD: And once he is mine, you will be too. Spyder: **** OFF DAMMIT!!!![/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]OOC: Harlequin's "medical reasons" are (surprisingly enough) my own. Yeah, I know, but it was worth it, damn you! ic: [i]Alastuin stopped for a moment, staring at the ground. Raistlin and Lacroix continued onwards a few steps before stopping and turning to her. [/i] Lacroix: What is it, my love? Alastuin: I... I was just wondering about last time. You know, about the mire... Lacroix: Don't lie. Alastuin: *sighs* Fine, I want to go back to the lab for more testing. Raistlin: God dammit, those stupid scientists have screwed with your head. Why? Alastuin: I don't know, but it's what they want, isn't it? To draw us back in if we escape. Lacroix: Instead of making the testing enjoyable for you... Alastuin: But it was! Lacroix: ... they make you think that it was and make you want to go back. Alastuin: There's something else. Raistlin: There always is. Lacroix: No, she's right. Alastuin: There is someone else there, isn't there? Raistlin: Yeah, Blaze. Why? Alastuin: Well, why aren't we going and getting him back? Raistlin: Well, it's too dangerous for one thing... [i]Lacroix looks at him as if to say, "Is that the best you can come up with? Here?"[/i] Alastuin: They'd let me back in easily. I could walk right up there and the gates would open. If I could rid myself of the drugs that render me unable to resist the things they do there, I would probably be able to think straight and let you guys in, get him out... Lacroix: Not on your own. Alastuin: Just a thought. [i]She keeps walking, pushing ahead of the others and dreaming of bacon, which is odd because she has never even seen it before.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Raven and Lacroix rose and dressed themselves, and Raven went to the front door of the abode and pulled it open after unlocking it several times. Sunlight spilled in through the opening and swirled like fire on the floor and across her body, she screamed and sheilded herself ineffectually. Lacroix darted across the room in a split second, wrenched her back and slammed the door. Raven lay on the cold, stone floor crying bitterly.[/i] Lacroix: You stupid idiot! Raven: What... what happened? [i]Lacroix realised that she had no idea of the effects of sunlight and his anger towards her evaporated. He walked to her position on the floor and scooped her shocked body up into his arms, walking her into the bedroom once more and laying her gently down on the bed. She had stopped crying and simply lay there, unmoving, pathetic, on the bed. He sighed and went to the bathroom, fetching a balm from the shelves on the wall and returning to her, undressing her and seeing to her wounds. She lay there and made no sign that she was alive, or even there. Her mind was ten years in the past and a thousand years in the future at the same time. When Lacroix had begun the healing of her skin he put her to bed and retreated downstairs, annoyed at the price and strain of a fledgeling.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Anathema awoke to the sound of a tapping on her bedroom window. muttering a few lines of The Raven by her favorite poet, she got up to explore the noise and laughed outright when she saw the old, scratty raven perching in her windowsill, obviously sheltering itself from the gale-force winds. She opened her window and the bird hopped inside. Oestrogen, her cat, opened one eye and scrutinised the visitor. She shooed the nasty hormonal feline away and sat on her bed, looking at the raven. It appeared very old. The red beady eyes peered at her from an erratically moving head, as if inspecting her very carefully. Seemingly content, the raven keeled oversideways and died on Anathema's bedroom floor. [/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I was only joking. But maybe I will.... maybe I will. (hehe, it's funny cos it sounds like Buscake.) Name: Anathema Animal: Raven (ten bucks if you didn't see that one coming...) Location:2 (again, where else?) Panthas eat ravens, don't they? Hmmm..... Meh, I can fly. I can fly!!!! [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]God dammit, you shoud have said something!!!! I really shoud check this forum more often. I would have been in this, but nooooo you didn't want me to know about it and so it passed me by. You'll pay for this, Ghengis!!!! :bash:[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Hmmmm... I see that my absence today did not pass without comment. Oh well, The banner is excellent. Both of them.... Ditch the blue line. Don't post conspiracy theories about the two most dangerous people in your life on the net. You live, you love, you bleed, you learn, Ed. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic] 1) Do you speak Japanese fluently? One day, but not yet. 2) Have you taken a class in Japanese? If so, how many? For about six years now, I think... 3) Have you bought a book related to learning Japanese? If so, how many? No, but I have been given a few. About seven. 4) Can you count how many Japanese words you know? If so, how many? No, I can't count how many. There are quite a lot. 5) Do you know hiragana and katakana? Upside down and back to front. 6) About how many kanji do you know? About thirty something. 7) Do you have any friends or relatives that speak fluent Japanese? My japenese friends do! 8) Do you WANT to learn Japanese? No. I want to speak/read/understand/write it fluently, but I don't really wnat to [i]learn[/i]... [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Well, the borders around goth anyhting aren't as clearly defined as say, the borders around country and western, rap, etc. and that is why it is difficult to define what is and what is not gothic music. And just because siouxie and the banshees started the subculture, doesn't mean that things havent changed dramatically since then. If anything I think that it has opened up a whole lot more. I'm starting to regret giving you that essay, Harlequin, it may have gone to your head. Those two bands are early punk bands, gothic subculture stemmed from punk. The batcave was a punk nightclub, originally. It still is....[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]*bows* If you want me to do something else to it, we can do it tomorrow. I'm touched though, really... (I hope I spelt wizz right...)[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I give up. I'm too tired and defeated. Goodbye.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Spyder awoke to the scent of jasmine flowers and her love's naked flesh. She opened her eyes to a scene of blue, the chiffon floating lazily in the breeze above them, the mutated vines growing in through the window and across the roof, the blue patterns covering her naked body, lying in the tangled sunshine spilling across the bed. Looking at Harlequin, she smiled again. Even after her whole life and everything she had seen, he was still the most incredible creature alive to her. She reached out to him, and stopped. A noise, from the outside of the open house. She pulled a sheet over herself just in time before three lightbearing monks walked into the front room and the door way to the room she lay in. They stopped suddenly and looked at her. Then, kneeling in respect, they walked to her side of the bed and stood her up, taking her to the front room again and dressing her, anointing her with oils and then placing a garland of jasmine vine on her head before leaving. She stood there, perplexed, before undressing herself once more and returning to bed.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Couldn't be bothered in mine. So, here it is, my lord...[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I KNOW they aren't gothic, for the SEVENTIETH time now I was MAKING the POINT that because I am gothic, and I listen to it, it is MUSIC that a GOTH likes and THEREFORE is GOTHIC MUSIC TO ME. Goth can't be tied to music if it isn't a music genre. It's a way of thinking. I believe that Fear Factory and APC are gothic, and if you don't agree with me then GOOD I didn't want you to ANYWAY!!!! (well, well, well... I think I may be spending a little too much time listening to cloricus arguing...)[/font][/color]