Ravenstorture

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Evelyn: Did you remember seeing any pillars down there? Davien: I don't know, did you? Evelyn: I don't know, I wasn't looking. Davien: Well, should we go back down and look? Evelyn: We? Davien: You are going to have to go down there some time, you are the one looking for the pillars. Evelyn: Well, you can figure it out, can't you? Davien: Why are you so scared? You aren't afraid of death, are you? Evelyn: Not of death, of the altar. Davien: And that makes so much sense it hurts. Evelyn: I'll need your help anyway, you know. Davien: No, why? Evelyn: Just come with me, ok? Davien: Ok. [I]They decend into the room below again. As expected but not remembered, there are four supports holding the roof up.[/i] Davien: So, your master plan is? evelyn: I don't have one, just if we knock the pillars down it would be easier. Davien: Well, how are we going to do that? Evelyn: I don't know. Explosives? Davien: Right. Lucky I have this cannister of gunpowder in my pack here... Evelyn: Oh, do you really? That's handy. Davien: I was being sarcastic. Evelyn: That really helps. Davien: And all the while we are standing in a necromancer's chapel....[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][I]Alastuin walked down the darkened street, ignroring the catcalls and whistles that echoed around her. Somebody threw a beercan, it never reached it's destination. Sick and tired of the lowlife scum that believed that what it was doing was actually funny, she hailed a taxi and told the driver to surprise her. When they reached the surprise destination, a rundown hotel, she enquired whether or not this was supposed to be some sort of joke and then choked the cabdriver to death with the strap of her handbag before he had time to answer. Climbing out of the taxi, she went to the driver's side (OOC: That's the right side, i'm english) and pulled the driver out onto the ground and climbed into his seat, being careful to drive the spike of her stiletto into his temple before driving away. She drove for about an hour, winding her way into streets packed with youths and sluts who thought the boys would ignore their stupidity if they wore short skirts and low cut tops. Thay were right, that was the sad thing. A group of young louts hailed her over, and she slowed down and allowed them to get in. Seeing the attractive young woman dressed in an expensive champagne dress, they made the usual routine of "hey" and "momma" and "blow me, like, seriously". Once they had all been seated, she pulled out and began to drive again, a small smile on her face. One guy muttered something about the corner of West and Marclay, and attempted to shove $50 into her cleavage. Alastuin didn't even blink. Immediately the upper half of her body split into who semi-transparent figures, one still calmly driving the taxi in a direction that was not leading to West and Seventh, the other turning for the guy and reaching out to him. He was too stunned to even move, and allowed her to take his head into her hands and pull his face into hers. She kissed him passionately before biting his tongue and ripping it out by the root. The guys in the back had a perfect veiw of his tongue sliding down Alastuin's transparent throat as she swallowed it. The two of her figures melded back into one and she kept driving, as the eighteen year old next to her slowly drowned in his own blood. [/I][/font][/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by cloricus [/i] [B]I didn't bring up that part Because it would of screwed up my argument. It is true and also not depending on the case. I am stronger than you raven; we have found that out already. (Except when you kick....)[/b][/quote] [color=darkgreen][font=gothic]And by mind, my dear. [/font][/color] [quote][b]Women can be more useful in some situations and bad in others, the same as men. But if women where equal to men don't you think they would be on the front line already? [/B][/QUOTE] [color=darkgreen][font=gothic]No, because women aren't not on the front line because they aren't strong enough. People have already proved that we ARE strong enough. They are not on the front line because it seems to be a well accepted fact that women are less than men are, in some, if not most, ways. Only recently is this being refuted.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Within a few minutes, the second base was in sight. Alastuin scouted for a helipad, and found a square instead, reasonably close to the trail of mangled bodies. She circled the base thrice, testing the ind and finally coming in from the east. Landing on teh garden beds of the square shocked the officers walking past, but they must have been used to American make helicopters landing wherever the f*ck they pleased all the time, and took no notice. Or was it because of the machine guns, missile extentions and a-bombs strapped to the outer of the bird, and the armed-to-the-teeth people on the inner? As soon as the engine had died and the rotors set did the others appear carrying bounty from various parts of the base. Alastuin smiled. Destroying humanity was going to be very, very good fun. [/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Ignoring the others, Alastuin breaks up the remains of teh shield and runs after Davien and Kral Thraxx into the forest. Before she reashes the path, the ground disappears beneath her and she is falling, and then landing on a hard surface, winded but conscious. There is a shuffling above her, but she keeps her eyes closed just in case. She feels someone jump in beside her and pick her up roughly, grunting and dropping hre again. The assailant strips her of her weapons and possesions and then, after a chuckle, her outer clothing. Then, picking her up again, it jumps out of the trap-fall pit and slings her over a horse, mounting it after her and riding quickly away. Alastuin remains dead still, the thing that picked her up was large, strong, scaly and smelt evil. By the direction of the wind she felt she was headed north, out of the woods once more. They rode for another ten minutes or so before they came to a halt and Alastuin heard the sound of a heavy portcullis being opened. Hearing it slam shut after her worried her greatly - she could not feign unconsciousness much longer. The horse was walked in and she was picked up and slung over a shoulder once more. Risking a glance, she opened her eyes and found that she was being carried by some sort of troll, unarmed but for a shortsword and bare of armour. Alastuin was marched into a dark building of stone, down a few short steps and into a dungeon, thrown roughly onto the floor where she pretended to wake up and become very shocked at where she was. Her captor, the troll, looked at her near-naked body openly, before scratching himself and walking off. Alastuin siezed the opportunity. [/i] Alastuin: Wait! I want to talk to you. [i]The troll spun around and looked at her again, confused.[/i] Troll: Murg drenlath bia gorndorl. Alastuin: umm.... peirglish? [i](translated from here on)[/i] Troll: You speak my tongue? Alastuin: yes, where am I? Troll: what'll you give for information. Alastuin: Nothing - you owe this to me at least. Troll(thinking): Dungeon. Alastuin: Jung epsel. (no dah!!) Troll: Tower. Alastuin: What? ....which one..? Troll: Tower of warlord Fienreth Alnilan, he will talk to you soon. [i]So she was in the fourth tower, the one in the south-east corner of the upper realm. The dungeon was awfully cold, and wearing nothing but undergarments, she felt exposed and scared. Her only hope now was that the others found the pit...[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!!!! The truth of it is, my dear fellows, that men are more physically stonger and more developed than women in the upper body. Genetically, women are stronger then men in the lower half of the body. Thus nullifying any "stronger gender" issue that is raised. Besides, I am probably stronger than both you [i]and[/i] cloricus, Jesus chicken. Perhaps... And in the beginning, the stone/bronze/etc eras, may I remind you that WOMEN hunted to food, men prepared it. They didn't just gather berries and pop out children every now and then, they actually took up spears and went and ran after animals killing them. I don't know where the roles got switched around to the extent of actual discrimination and mysogenism, but there it is. And as for wanting to die, the desire for death is not linked in any way to war. People who wnat to end their lives do not attemt to do so by joining an army. There are quicker, more efficient ways of ing it than joining a group that teaches you how NOT to die, under circumstances where the chance is remote. People who fight in wars are trained to survive, heightening their chance of NOT DIEING. More people die of heart disease, cancer, road accidents and getting crushed by washing machines than by war. It simply does not make sense. I have heard stories of women in the front line in other countries coming in contact with australian troops and numerous people have told me that the women were actually a lot better than some of the men, quite often, And this dosen't surprise me, as women would have to push themselves harder to get to places where, strictly, they aren't allowed.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Alastuin turns to walk away but she hears a dull thud and turns once more to the doorway. The light inside is extinguished and she hears gasping, and mumbled words. Concerned, she calls again, but there is no answer. Waiting, a shriek suddenly pierces the air and she jumps, wondering what to do. Using a sharp fingernail to cut a slit in the ricepaper on the edge of the [i]shoji[/i], she reaches through without damaging the paper and sldes the wooden bolt holding the door in place across. She puls her hand back through and slides the door across, revealing Davien sitting crouched in the corner of the room, shaking convulsivly and rocking back and forth, holding himself. She closes the door behing her and rushes forward, but as she reaches out to him he shrieks again and whispers for her to stay away. She sees that he is drenched in sweat and his pupils are horribly dilated, and she recoils in shock. [/i] Alastuin: Are you alright? Davien: [i]goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoaway...[/i] Alastuin: I'm not going to hurt you, it's ok... [i]She reaches forward again slowly and touches his shoulder, shocked by how cold his skin feels in comparison to the warm night air around them. Shaking herself, Alastuin takes a square of cloth from her pocket and wipes the sweat from his eyes, before holding him tightly and rocking him back and forth gently, keeping silent. As soon as he stops shaking violently, she helps him to the bed and lies him down before sitting beside the bed and looking at him, concerned about what had happened. [/i]Why was he like this? He was one of the best fighters of the group, a warrior such as this would not get battle shock or the like... I wonder if it is linked to his past?[i] Waiting until he was asleep, Alastuin stood and walked out of the small room, still dizzy from the night's events.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! Give me a chance, dammit!!! Another sighting had more bizarre results. At about 10:30 on that same evening, Newell Partridge, a local building contractor who lived in Salem (about 90 miles from Point Pleasant), was watching television when the screen suddenly went dark. He stated that a weird pattern filled the screen and then he heard a loud, whining sounds from outside that raised in pitch and then ceased. ?It sounded like a generator winding up? he later stated. Partridge?s dog, Bandit, began to howl out on the front porch and Newell went out to see what was going on. When he walked outside, he saw Bandit facing the hay barn, about 150 yards from the house. Puzzled, Partridge turned a flashlight in that direction and spotted two red circles that looked like eyes or ?bicycle reflectors?. They moving red orbs were certainly not animal?s eyes, he believed, and the sight of them frightened him. Bandit, an experienced hunting dog and protective of his territory, shot off across the yard in pursuit of the glowing eyes. Partridge called for him to stop, but the animal paid no attention. His owner turned and went back into the house for his gun, but then was too scared to go back outside again. He slept that night with his gun propped up next to the bed. The next morning, he realized that Bandit had disappeared. The dog had still not shown up two days later when Partridge read in the newspaper about the sightings in Point Pleasant that night. One statement that he read in the newspaper chilled him to the bone. Roger Scarberry, one member of the group who spotted the strange ?bird? at the TNT plant, said that as they entered the city limits of Point Pleasant, they saw the body of a large dog lying on the side of the road. A few minutes later, on the way back out of town, the dog was gone. They even stopped to look for the body, knowing they had passed it just a few minutes before. Newell Partridge immediately thought of Bandit, who was never seen again. On November 16, a press conference was held in the county courthouse and the couples from the TNT plant sighting repeated their story. Deputy Halstead, who had known the couples all of their lives, took them very seriously. ?They?ve never been in any trouble,? he told investigators and had no reason to doubt their stories. Many of the reporters who were present for the weird recounting felt the same way. The news of the strange sightings spread around the world. The press dubbed the odd flying creature ?Mothman?, after a character from the popular Batman television series of the day. The remote and abandoned TNT plant became the lair of the Mothman in the months ahead and it could not have picked a better place to hide in. The area was made up of several hundred acres of woods and large concrete domes where high explosives were stored during World War II. A network of tunnels honeycombed the area and made it possible for the creature to move about without being seen. In addition to the manmade labyrinth, the area was also comprised of the McClintic Wildlife Station, a heavily forested animal preserve filled with woods, artificial ponds and steep ridges and hills. Much of the property was almost inaccessible and without a doubt, Mothman could have hid for weeks or months and remained totally unseen. The only people who ever wandered there were hunters and fishermen and the local teenagers, who used the rutted dirt roads of the preserve as ?lover?s lanes?. Very few homes could be found in the region, but one dwelling belonged to the Ralph Thomas family. One November 16, they spotted a ?funny red light? in the sky that moved and hovered above the TNT plant. ?It wasn?t an airplane?, Mrs. Marcella Bennett (a friend of the Thomas family) said, ?but we couldn?t figure out what it was.? Mrs. Bennett drove to the Thomas house a few minutes later and got out of the car with her baby. Suddenly, a figure stirred near the automobile. ?It seemed as though it had been lying down,? she later recalled. ?It rose up slowly from the ground. A big gray thing. Bigger than a man with terrible glowing eyes.? Mrs. Bennett was so horrified that she dropped her little girl! She quickly recovered, picked up her child and ran to the house. The family locked everyone inside but hysteria gripped them as the creature shuffled onto the porch and peered into the windows. The police were summoned, but the Mothman had vanished by the time the authorities had arrived. Mrs. Bennett would not recover from the incident for months and was in fact so distraught that she sought medical attention to deal with her anxieties. She was tormented by frightening dreams and later told investigators that she believed the creature had visited her own home too. She said that she could often hear a keening sounds (like a woman screaming) near her isolated home on the edge of Point Pleasant. Many would come to believe that the sightings of Mothman, as well as UFO sightings and encounters with ?men in black? in the area, were all related. For nearly a year, strange happenings continued in the area. Researchers, investigators and ?monster hunters? descended on the area but none so famous as author John Keel, who has written extensively about Mothman and other unexplained anomalies. He has written for many years about UFO?s but dismisses the standard ?extraterrestrial? theories of the mainstream UFO movement. For this reason, he has been a controversial figure for decades. According to Keel, man has had a long history of interaction with the supernatural. He believes that the intervention of mysterious strangers in the lives of historic personages like Thomas Jefferson and Malcolm X provides evidence of the continuing presence of the ?gods of old?. The manifestation of these elder gods comes in the form of UFO?s and aliens, monsters, demons, angels and even ghosts. He has remained a colorful character to many and yet remains respected in the field for his research and fascinating writings. Keel became the major chronicler of the Mothman case and wrote that at least 100 people personally witnessed the creature between November 1966 and November 1967. According to their reports, the creature stood between five and seven feet tall, was wider than a man and shuffled on human-like legs. Its eyes were set near the top of the shoulders and had bat-like wings that glided, rather than flapped, when it flew. Strangely though, it was able to ascend straight up ?like a helicopter?. Witnesses also described its murky skin as being either gray or brown and it emitted a humming sound when it flew. The Mothman was apparently incapable of speech and gave off a screeching sound. Mrs. Bennett stated that it sounded like a ?woman screaming?. John Keel arrived in Point Pleasant in December 1966 and immediately began collecting reports of Mothman sightings and even UFO reports from before the creature was seen. He also compiled evidence that suggested a problem with televisions and phones that began in the fall of 1966. Lights had been seen in the skies, particularly around the TNT plant, and cars that passed along the nearby road sometimes stalled without explanation. He and his fellow researchers also uncovered a number of short-lived poltergeist cases in the Ohio Valley area. Locked doors opened and closed by themselves, strange thumps were heard inside and outside of homes and often, inexplicable voices were heard. The James Lilley family, who lived just south of the TNT plant, were so bothered by the bizarre events that they finally sold their home and moved to another neighborhood. Keel was convinced that the intense period of activity was all connected. And stranger things still took place..... A reporter named Mary Hyre, who was the Point Pleasant correspondent for the Athens, Ohio newspaper the Messenger, also wrote extensively about the local sightings. In fact, after one very active weekend, she was deluged with over 500 phone calls from people who saw strange lights in the skies. One night in January 1967, she was working late in her office in the county courthouse and a man walked in the door. He was very short and had strange eyes that were covered with thick glasses. He also had long, black hair that was cut squarely ?like a bowl haircut?. Hyre said that he spoke in a low, halting voice and he asked for directions to Welsh, West Virginia. She thought that he had some sort of speech impediment and for some reason, he terrified her. ?He kept getting closer and closer to me, ? she said, ? and his funny eyes were staring at me almost hypnotically.? Alarmed, she summoned the newspaper?s circulation manager to her office and together, they spoke to the strange little man. She said that at one point in the discussion, she answered the telephone when it rang and she noticed the little man pick up a pen from her desk. He looked at it in amazement, ?as if he had never seen a pen before.? Then, he grabbed the pen, laughed loudly and ran out of the building. Several weeks later, Hyre was crossing the street near her office and saw the same man on the street. He appeared to be startled when he realized that she was watching him, turned away quickly and ran for a large black car that suddenly came around the corner. The little man climbed in and it quickly drove away. By this time, most of the sightings had come to an end and Mothman had faded away into the strange ?twilight zone? from which he had come... but the story of Point Pleasant had not yet ended. At around 5:00 in the evening on December 15, 1967, the 700-foot bridge linking Point Pleasant to Ohio suddenly collapsed while filled with rush hour traffic. Dozens of vehicles plunged into the dark waters of the Ohio River and 46 people were killed. Two of those were never found and the other 44 are buried together in the town cemetery of Gallipolis, Ohio. On that same tragic night, the James Lilley family (who still lived near the TNT plant at that time) counted more than 12 eerie lights that flashed above their home and vanished into the forest. The collapse of the Silver Bridge made headlines all over the country and Mary Hyre went days without sleep as reporters and television crews from everywhere descended on the town. The local citizens were stunned with horror and disbelief and the tragedy is still being felt today. During Christmas week, a short, dark-skinned man entered the office of Mary Hyre. He was dressed in a black suit, with a black tie, and she said that he looked vaguely Oriental. He had high cheekbones, narrow eyes and an unidentified accent. He was not interested in the bridge disaster, she said, but wanted to know about local UFO sightings. Hyre was too busy to talk with him and she handed her a file of related press clipping instead. He was not interested in them and insisted on speaking with her. She finally dismissed him from her office. That same night, an identically described man visited the homes of several witnesses in the area who had reported seeing the lights in the sky. He made all of them very uneasy and uncomfortable and while he claimed to be a reporter from Cambridge, Ohio, he inadvertently admitted that he did not know where Columbus, Ohio was even though the two towns are just a few miles apart.[/font][/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by cloricus [/i] [B]We also learn to go out when it is cold Raven! But yes you are right.[/b][/quote] [color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Hey - I had more important things to do, like lying around and watching movies with my loved ones. Pushing a bus two k through mud is a waste of my valuble talents, Cloricus!!! And besides - my lance corporal needed that responsibility more than I did. [/font][/color] [quote][b]I have never seen why women would want to server on the front line, don't you think it is bad enough that in conscription that men are forced to go and fight, and die. I guess I'm being sexist when I say that but I have never figured out the reason women would want to be forced to do that? [/B][/QUOTE] [color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Women want to go on the front line probably because of the same reson men want to, without all that macho showing off thing guys do in the army sometimes. Breen told me I wouldn't make it to the front line. Another soldier guy I know, Lauryn's cousin, told mewomen are'n allowed in the front line because the "national requirement for women to have showers" is two weeks, but with boys it's six!!! Bull^&#@!! Women aren't allowed in the front line because of a responisbility of care, and the fear of a patriarchal, chauvenistic society that women are taking men over. Sorry, my other is a feminist. It shows in me sometimes.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Information from Prarie Ghosts: The weird events connected to the Mothman began on November 12, 1966 near Clendenin, West Virginia. Five men were in the local cemetery that day, preparing a grave for a burial, when something that looked like a "brown human being" lifted off from some nearby trees and flew over their heads. The men were baffled. It did not appear to be a bird, but more like a man with wings. A few days later, more sightings would take place, electrifying the entire region. Late in the evening of November 15, two young married couples had a very strange encounter as they drove past an abandoned TNT plant near Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The couples spotted two large eyes that were attached to something that was "shaped like a man, but bigger, maybe six or seven feet tall. And it had big wings folded against its back". When the creature moved toward the plant door, the couples panicked and sped away. Moments later, they saw the same creature on a hillside near the road. It spread its wings and rose into the air, following with their car, which by now was traveling at over 100 miles per hour. "That bird kept right up with us," said one of the group. They told Deputy Sheriff Millard Halstead that it followed them down Highway 62 and right to the Point Pleasant city limits. And they would not be the only ones to report the creature that night. Another group of four witnesses claimed to see the "bird" three different times! But there could have been a logical explanation for some of the sightings. Even John Keel (who believed the creature was genuine) suspected that a few of the cases involved people who were spooked by recent reports and saw owls flying along deserted roads at night. Even so, Mothman remains hard to easily dismiss. The case is filled with an impressive number of multiple-witness sightings by individuals that were deemed reliable, even by law enforcement officials. But if Mothman was real... and he truly was some unidentified creature that cannot be explained, what was behind the UFO sightings, the poltergeist reports, the strange lights, sounds, the "men in black" and most horrifying, the collapse of the Silver Bridge? John Keel believes that Point Pleasant was a "window" area, a place that was marked by long periods of strange sightings, monster reports and the coming and going of unusual persons. He states that it may be wrong to blame the collapse of the bridge on the local UFO sightings, but the intense activity in the area at the time does suggest some sort of connection. Others have pointed to another supernatural link to the strange happenings, blaming the events on the legendary Cornstalk Curse that was placed on Point Pleasant in the 1770's. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Well, it seems that I must take part in this thread for the good of all concerned!!!! Yes, I will take any excuse. I hate everything all the above have mentioned, except for cheesecake and Cloricus. My reason for being is Harlequin, my reason for not being is Hat Pie.[/font] [/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Alastuin gathers up her things and groups amy and socks into a tight huddle near the cairn before stepping a few feet back, keeping an eye on Trell.[/i] Alastuin: M'yorglath tenstinyae gruenagh! [i]Immediately socks and amy are encased in a silver glowing ball. Alastuin looks at the battle above her head and decides that she is useless there, and steps into the ball herself.[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Alastuin awakes from her deep meditation on the cream carpet of an expensive apartment. She sits up slowly and stretches, looking out the window at the sun sinking slowly in a blaze of orange and vermilin. Anathema stands and streches some more, feeling the stretch in her joints and her numerous peircings. She walks into the master bedroom and picks her clothes up off the floor, a black, slinky dress, strapless and ankle length, the material rippling like midnight oil. Sliding it on to her pale frame, she walks to the entrance of the ensuite and slips her feet into two black high heel shoes and rest her head against the door frame, gazing into the ensuite at the eviscerated body lying in a bathtub full of blood and sinew. Sighing heavily, Alastuin grabs her handbag and runs her long, pale fingers through her hair as she went to the door and slid herself into an expensive black coat. Glancing around, Alastuin looks for the man's wallet and finds it sitting on the kitchen bench, where he left it. Finding it to be much more stylish than her own, she empties it but for the seven hundred dollars she finds in it and vacates the space with her own things and money. Stepping outside, she locks the apartment and takes the crystal elevator to the ground floor of the building. Her black, deadened eyes covered with sunglasses, Alastuin stalks out of the building, the taste of blood and victory still acidic in her mouth. [/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][I]Anathema idled the engine but did not switch it off, although fuel was hard to come by they would not take long. She unclipped herself from the cockpit and ran with her head lowered to meet the others and help loading weapons and other equipment she thought may come in handy, ususal stuff you find around a military base. When the bird was loaded, Vukodlak and Valiegh jumped in the back and clipped themselves in, placing headphones on and testing them through the main. Anathema reacted the engine and slowly brought the bird off the ground, scouting for a windsock once she breached the level of buildings. Facing into the wind, she tipped the heavy chopper nose down and lifted it away, turning to their direction and circling once before flying off.[/i] Anathema: So, once we see the others we will pick them up via ground, right? Valiegh: Basically. What have we got here? [i]Vukodlak and Valiegh sort through the things they grabbed in the back while Anathema put a fist through the external communications panel.[/i] Valiegh: Those things on the landing rod there, what are they? Vukodlak: I think their feul pods. Anathema: A-bombs, actually. Just small ones, but Guatemala isn't a nuclear country yet. Vukodlak: What? What the f*ck were A-bombs doing on the side of a helicopter? Anathema: They weren't, they were locked away in the misslie cabinets. Valiegh: So, how did they get here? Anathema: I put them there. The fuel tank was full, so I chose them instead of fuel pods. I hole you don't mind. Vukodlak: As long as we can still hold three other people and whatever they're carrying. Anathema: Should be no problem, if you make room back there. We'll only get lighter as we fly, anyway, and we can get other hawks from other bases. Valiegh: What helicopter is this? Anathema: Blackhawk, you can tell by the number of rotor blades. American make. Don't worry, the movie wasn't very accurate, blackhawk crashes are about as rare as hen's teeth. Vukodlak: Trust the americans... Anathema: Really? Vukodlak: Again, I was being sarcastic. Anathema: Can't tell over the headsets. Besides, I can't see your face.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Yeah, well, it was dieing, I had no ideas in the first place, i was dead bored and no one was posting anyway so i just thought "what the hell, it's not like it matters any more."[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]I like this, this is good. Even though there is already nine people in this one, but I will try to stick with people to make it easier. Name: Alastuin Illethiral West Age: immesurable, looks 20 or so Race: succubus Sire or Birth: immemorial Attacks: uses seduction to get close enough to attack Looks: incredibly sexy, as is probably obvious. very long straight raven black hair, pale skin, wears black, has an elongated black tongue pierced three times, very thin, tallish, long black fingernails, black lips, jetblack eyes, sharp teeth. Tattoos of thorned vines around stomach and up backs of legs. Bio: As a form of demonic creature, no bio needed really. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=darkred]Well, I should apologise for throwing the thing about the leg, it seemed to lead the whole thing right off track. What I meant by the "what the hell was that supposed to mean" was why would cryogenic freezing of a dead man be postponed due to loss of a leg? And here's the [i]really[/i] interesting thing.... The last anzac died with both legs in tact. Anyway, I don't know much about the subject of historical wars, but I will say this because I believe it is important. At the moment, I am trining to be a soldier. As with a couple of other people in this discussion, but perhaps on a more subdued level. But we are taught dicipline, the routine of an army life, I have lived in an army barracks and I have undergone battle situations in training. I have eaten army food, slept in army property, fired an army weapon, I have befriended army soldiers and I have learnt from them. We are taught how to fight, why to fight, where to fight, when to fight, and who to fight. The only reason veterans interest me is because I have no doubt that one day, I will be among them. And I know that there is nothing that I would hate more to be respected and seen as a hero because I went out and slaughtered people.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=darkred][I]Evelyn darts back to the treeline quickly and pulls a vial out of her pack, pouring it on the raven and massaging the foul liquid into the black feathers. Harlequin notices what she is doing and walks over to her.[/i] Harlequin: I admire your ambition, but this dragon is already dead. Poison won't work. Evelyn: No you don't. And this isn't strictly poison. Harlequin: Well, what is it then? Evelyn: To be completely honest, I have no idea what it is. [i]She throws the bird at the dragon and it flies past its head, casing the massive beast to turn quickly and snap at it. It crunches the raven in its jaws and thumps it's tail angrily, roaring and unaffected by the snack.[/i] Harlequin: Well, that failed. Evelyn: Just wait. [i] She stands in front of the dragon and whistles, waving her arms and yelling complette nonsense at the toop of her voice. The dragon spots her and looks at her curiously, before taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with a noxious, flammable gas. Evelyn crouches, suddenly quiet, as the dragon prepares a plume of flames for Evelyn's unique reception. As soon as it comes, she jumps into the air and sommersaults sideways, avoiding the flames by only a few feet. The fire, however, does not dissapear from the dragon's mouth as soon as he stops breathing it. The flesh on the inside of the beasts mouth is ablaze, and soon the dragon's head is completely consumed by fire. The group take advantage of the distraction to leap upon the dragon and attack it fiercely. Soon, it is decapitated and lying motionless on the ground, it's body already being ravaged by thousands of scavenger birds.[/i] Harlequin: So I guess the stuff on the raven was just some flammable liquid. Evelyn: I guess so. I had no idea before now, though, I was just wondering what would happen if I put some into it's mouth and it caught on fire. I found the vial somewhere, it was labeled "caramel". Harlequin: Interesting. But nevertheless very, very risky and somewhat stupid. Evelyn: Well, that's me all round, isn't it. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=darkred]Alastuin: Well, I'm unpopular today, aren't I? Kredion: Yes, you are. [I]Alastuin begins tipping the chalice back and forth again, inspecting the landscape around them. Kredion suddenly unsheathes his blade and brings it round in a wide arc directly in line with Alastuins neck. Alastuin watches his movements in the corner of the scrying glass and leans back quickly, pulling at her dagger as she does so and ramming it backwards into the soft flesh surrounding Kredion's knee. He gasps and drops the heavy sword, cursing and pulling out the dagger from his knee. Alastuin struggles to sit up but he grabs her long hair and yanks her head back to his hip, holding her own dagger to her throat and cursing her as a witch and a demon-sorceress. Alastuin closes her eyes and remains perfectly calm and relaxed as Kredion tries in vain to get her to retaliate so he can slit her throat open with the thin blade. [/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Alastuin: But what are we going to do once we get out of here? Are we still going to go and find that guy, you know, the one with the box? Zaltazar: I don't know... perhaps. Alastuin(kneeling in front of him): And what about us? Zaltazar: Don't say that. Alastuin: I was just wondering if you had any plans, you know, or if this was just a luxury for you... Zaltazar: This really was not meant to have happened. We are warriors, and our lives do not accomodate the issues of marriage and children. Alastuin: WHAT?!!?! Marriage and children? You were thinking we would get married and have [i]children[/i]?? Zaltazar: No, I thought that's what you wanted... Alastuin: Me? God no... I would never sacrifice pure bloodlust for eternal devotion to another person. It's too much like tying yourself down. Zaltazar: And children? Alastuin: I hate children. Zaltazar: I like you more and more every day, you know that? Alastuin: I do now. [/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic][i]Alastuin wakes in the middle of the night with a start. She sits up, discovering herself to be entangled with another set of limbs just as naked as her own. Struggling to keep calm, she turns around and examines the face etched in pale moonlight on the pillow. Remembering suddenly, she sighs and lies back down, closing her eyes and falling back into a deep sleep, lulled by the rythmic breathing of the supreme being behind her. Awaking the next morning, she finds Zaltazar to be gone. She stands and dresses quickly, securing her items under the bed and walking downstairs to the common room. The room is in a state of disarray, and there are inert bodies of many creatures lying throughout the wreckage. Walkin up to the bar, she converses with the barman.[/i] Alastuin: What on earth happened here last night? Barman: Fest'val of Beltane. Alastuin: I see, so their all smashed, not dead. Barman: Oh noh, sum of them prob'ly are. You know hoo the immortals like their cider. Alastuin: So I've heard. Barman: Ye don't surprise thee, those who decline the hund of the mistress Beltane will be kept awake by her followers. Alastuin: Umm, well, actually... no, I didn't, um... hear anyhting last night.... Barman(chuckling): Oh, ye'd be making a bout oof riot ye'reself to miss the ruckus of last night! Alastuin: Um, yeah... I.... hmmm. [i]The barman looks at Alstuin suspiciously and decides to leave whatever it is alone. From the disarray of the common room a small figure emerges, an ale tankard balanced precariously on his head.[/i] Enron: Hey lass, I missed you last night - didn't you come, or something? Alastuin: yeah, I came.... for a while.... Enron: Well, I must have missed you. Lst night was a scream, eh? Alastuin: I couldn't, um, agree with you more... Enron: you ok? Alastuin: Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit... you know... Enron: Yeah, we're all a wee but shagged but - Alastuin: What?! Enron: Tired, we're all pretty tired. Alstuin: Oh, never mind... I'm going back to bed. [i]Alastuin walks back up the staircase to find Zaltazar in their room, cleaning his weapons. She collapses on the bed and sighs heavily.[/I][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Alastuin: Well, I think we may be able to prove him wrong..... [I]Alstuin tips the chalice so that the image follows Davien into the forest. She blows on the water, rippling it and in turn zomming in on the dark figure gracefully stalking throughthe forest.[/i] Amy: He's right, you know. Alastuin: Not really, my master taught me the flaws of distance-scrying, and I learnt to fix them with majick. Everything is tightly contained in the theory that as it is only an image, a reflection of what is around us, it only exists as much as what it is an image of does. And Davien exists, so there he is. Kral Thraxx: So any inconsistancies are broken through majick? Alastuin: Yes, but I don't like to admit it. Kredion: Yes, I know why too. [i]Kredion stands behind the witch and fingers the hilt of his sword thoughtfully, wondering how useful she was to the group, and how expendable...[/i][/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic]Alastuin: Well, I thought it was hilarious, I just wasn't laughing. Davien: ...Right. Socks: Why are we here? Alastuin: I thought that it would be a good idea going here because now I know where we are, and I know how long it is going to take for us to reach the first tower. Kredion: And how are you going to do that? Alastuin: Well, as I said, you don't [i]have[/i] to be a scry, but luck may have it that I am one. Amy: Isn't scrying only a thing to do with the past and future, though? Alastuin: Yes, but if you condense the timeframe you are scrying into down, it simply slips back into another dimention. Kredion: What? Alastuin: If time is a spatial dimention, which it might not be but it would help if it was, then there are then four dimentions in which to observe. Davien: Time, length, width, height? Alastuin: Exactly. If you constrict the dimention of time so much that you cannot scry through it, you simply end up scrying through a different dimention - distance, in this case - through much the same method. Kral Thraxx: But that really doesn't make much logical sense... Alastuin: I know, but it doesn't have to. [I]Alastuin takes a green crystal ball out of her coat pocket the size of a large marble. She sits down and takes out a chalice from her pack and pours water into it, placing the ball into the chalice. Then, whispering a few words in a foriegn language, the chalice glows white and a scene is prjected into the glow. The scene is of a few people standing in a clearing, gathered around a stone cairn. Alastuin picks the chalice up and rolls it in her hand, effectively scrolling the scene across the country side.[/i] Davien: And you say you aren't a witch.[/font][/color]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic] OOC: I will be treating Shinobi mountain and it's occupants to be of oriental origin, if anyone objects, just ignore it, it just makes things easier for me. [I]Alastuin walked slowly along the hallway, her bare feet padding gently on the tatami matted floor. She stopped to examine a section of the wall, seemed to be constructed of ricepaper over a wooden frame, rather asthetcally pleasing. She reached out and touched the fragile wall, energy from the fight still humming through her and causing her fingers to tremble slightly. She continued slowly down the hallway, raking her fingernails lightly over the [/i]shoji[i] and feeling the relief of the paper grain and the rhythmic pressure of the wooden supports run under her thin figers as she walked along. Passing a window, Alastuin stopped to admire the view from the mountain across a valley speckled with villages netted together with roads, thin, spidery scars across the green and jagged landscape. A sound awakened her from her trance and she glanced to her left, along the hallway. A shadow slid along the [/I]shoji[i] and dissapeared. Calling out, "Who's there?" she waits, and her call was replies with the sound of a bolt clicking into place. Highly incenced, she turns to walk back down the hall. [/color][/font][/i]

[color=darkgreen][font=gothic] Silencer Name: Alastuin Age: 20 Height: 178 Description: Very long straight red hair straked with black, very pale, rather thin but incredibly strong and agile, long black fingernails. Weapons: katana, kris knife[/color][/font]