Corey

[size=1]You'd be surprised how scared you can become while under the influence of mind altering things. As for simple reality, that's scary enough as it is. Growing up in a neighborhood that was far from the best, I've developed the automatic act of always looking over my shoulder no matter what time of day it is. It's something that just gets drilled into your normal behavior pattern when, during the night, there are drive by shooting on your block. As for the rest, I'm sure I've done them at some point or another. Especially the singing one. It's surprising how calming a bit of Mozart can be at times. EDIT- If the above segment doesn't make sense, it's because the original topic was changed.[/size]

[quote name='Gen. Andronicus']What about all those obese, facially distorted, dorky jerk types, that are complete ninnys and are born in August? I really don't think your predictions are very comprehensive.[/quote] [size=1]Do you possibly think you could be any less of a jackass? [quote name='Anonymous']"It's better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt."[/quote] Think about it. It might help you a bit in the real world where a good attitude will set you well on your way to a better life. [u]SEPTEMBER[/u] [i]Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people's mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Thinking generous. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves sports, leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.[/i] Well that describes me pretty well. A few wrong notes, but overall it was well written.[/size]

[size=1]I got one from a friend too. I'm lucky enough to be on a Mac. But he said it's one hell of a pain in the *** to stop.[/size]

Just dropping a line to notify everyone that I haven't forgotten about this. I've been a bit strapped for time with work and everything lately. It'll be up in a day or so.

[size=1][b]Name:[/b] Raziel (Archangel of Mysteries) [b]Age:[/b] Immortal [b]Gender:[/b] Gender Neutral (appears male) [b]Species:[/b] Angel of God [b]Appearance:[/b] White hair with dark eyebrows. On Earth he's clad in a pair of loose fitting black jeans with pentacles (his symbol) stitched into the knees in sky-blue thread, heavy black boots, and a plain black t-shirt. Offsetting the rest of his wardrobe, he often wears a white trench coat (with a large sky-blue pentacle on the back) with matching fedora. In heaven he wears a robe of a billowing grey substance, almost liquid in appearance, giving him the illusion of not always being completely corporeal. His wings are sky-blue and extremely large, as is his stature. He has a golden aura around his head. [b]Side:[/b] Heaven [b]Powers:[/b] [list][i]Current Manipulation-[/i] In Heaven, Raziel has the immense power to alter the currents of spiritual energy that flow through everything and everyone, angel, demon, and man. He can manipulate them to heal, harm, or alter the image or makeup of anything. He can change water to wine. Sapling to star. Rock to river. Life to death. He used this power frequently during The Great Fall whilst fighting to save his domain, Neptune. On Earth, these powers remain, but are lessened. Without the constant flow of pure spiritual energy, the toll of using this power is much more taxing.[/list] [list][i]Observation-[/i] Raziel stands at the curtain separating God from the rest of creation and writes down everything he hears. He has the uncanny ability to listen to everything at once, no matter how much is going on, and remember it all.[/list] [list][i]Inspire-[/i] Being the cherubim guardian of Originality and the Realm of Pure Ideas, Raziel radiates an aura of inspiration. Conclusions are reached faster, and ideas are discovered quicker in his presence. Unfortunately, it's a universal aura, effecting both friend and foe. Power is lessened on Earth, down to his immediate area.[/list] [b]Personality:[/b] Raziel tries his best to be the impartial notary he's supposed to be, writing down every single thing he hears at the curtain between God and creation, but after The Great Fall, he's been prone to letting his emotions get the better of him. He is an extremely composed angel, very rarely losing his head. Compassionate and protective of his fellow angels. He is slow to speak and always thinks before he acts. Raziel is the possessor of an amazing amount of information on the mysteries of the universe, but he's humble to a fault, using the information to help rather than belittle like the humans of Earth. He dislikes fighting, but is very apt at it, and therefore does it without question when God commands it of him. When on Earth, Raziel has a curious streak, actually being able to experience what he's been logging since time began. This can sometimes distract him, but very rarely. [b]Biography:[/b] Since he was made, Raziel stood by Almighty God cataloguing every bit of information that went on around his Throne. Raziel, the Archangel of mysteries, has in his mind a staggering amount of information on all matters secret, arcane, and mysterious; this knowledge stemming from his constant post at the curtain separating God from all of Creation. He hears and notes every bit of it. When Adam and Eve ere expelled from Eden, Raziel took pity on them and handed them his tome (The Book of the Angel Raziel) which contained everything he'd ever written, including the 1,500 keys to the secrets of the universe. The other angels stole it from Adam and threw it into the sea. God, instead of punishing Raziel, commanded Rahab (also know as Leviathan) to retrieve it, and give it back to Adam. The book eventually passed to the profit Enoch, who would become the Archangel Metatron. Raziel was one of the first Angels to know of the decent of Lucifer, being in the constant presence of God. He wrote that chapter in his book with a feeling of impending doom. God is infallible, and to go against Him is to incur His holy wrath. And that's exactly what happened. When The Great Fall began, Raziel turned from his post, at the command of God, and ventured to his domain of Neptune to hold off it's invasion. He fought tirelessly against the demonic hordes for thousands of years, shedding his former comrades blood on the blue-green fields of his portion of the heavens. For thousands of years he fought, and died a bit more with each kill. He was not meant to fight, but his powers made him a very able defender. His place was near his lord, writing down His infinite wisdom and the events that transpired in His domain. After the war, Raziel thankfully returned to his tome, and began serving his lord the way he liked best. The search for Azreal spanned millennia, and Raziel was there to log it with every report God received. When he was finally discovered, the thing Raziel feared most became reality. God has asked him to go to Earth with the others and search out the newly formed 'Mechanical Angel'. There would be bloodshed. There would be death. But, after, there might finally be peace.[/size]

[quote name='IceRose']I really don't know much about fae bu that everyone's destined to die someday.[/quote] [size=1]I could argue that that isn't fate, just the eventual bodily shutdown that all organic being experiance, but it is the one thing most like fate I've ever been able to concieve of. It's definate. It's going to happen no matter what, when is another story.[/size]

[QUOTE=Retribution][SIZE=1]On the ride home from school once, I saw a drunk man stumbling down the street with a bottle in hand. We had to hit the breaks suddenly, as we didn't think he would stay in the street after seeing the car for so long. After we stopped, he walks to our car, taps on the window with the bottle, chuckles a bit, then goes along his merry way. I'd say that was a bit strange.[/SIZE][/QUOTE] [size=1]I'm in the same boat as you. My friends and I were coming home from a midnight showing of The Goonies, and we were heading up a pretty major street. We just passed a whole bunch of bars, and then my friend suddenly slams on the brakes, lifts up his emergancy brake, and we go fishtailing into the other side of the street. We come to a stop and he gets out of the car. We follow suit and get out. There's a man passed out right in the middle of the street. The friend that was driving was pissed. But my other friend and I dragged the drunk guy to the sidewalk and propped him up against a building.[/size]

[size=1]I have the strangest feeling this thread will develope into a rather large religious debate... *sigh* Anyway, I'm a firm believer against fate. I don't like the idea that something is constantly conrtolling my life down to every cell of my body. I like to live my own life, make my own mistakes, and do it without the straight-line path of 'fate'. It makes me ill to think that I'm not in control of my life. If I want to do something stupid, I want to know it's my own choice and not that I was predestined to take that action. Same thing for everything else I do. To quote Bon Jovi: [i]"It's my life."[/i][/size]

[size=1]Signups are closed. If you have an uncontrolable yearning to be in this RPG, post your signup in the underground thread. I'll look it over and PM you with a verdict. :) With that said... [b]Name:[/b] Allen Chubbs (:D) [b]Age:[/b] 42 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Assignment:[/b] Captain [b]Personality:[/b] Allen is a very open, caring person. He enjoys meeting new people and making new friends. When captaining his crew in relaxed conditions, he prefers a very loose command structure; having his crew call him Allen. When things get rough he automatically switches back to his Air Force training and imposes the rigid 'Yes Sir' mentality. He'd give his life for his crew without a second thought. [b]Appearance:[/b] Allen stands at about 6'2" and 220 lbs. He has dark brown hair, and calm, grey eyes. He keeps his facial hair to a minimum, but still looks incredibly scruffy in the morning hours. Several tattoos cover his body, and he has piercing holes, but no jewelry. Allen usually wears a black t-shirt with faded bluejeans. He's well muscular, but still has the look of the gangly kid he used to be. [b]Bio:[/b] Allen grew up in a heavily Military family. His father was in the Airforce. His grandfather was in the Marines. And his Great Greandfather fought in WWII. After he finished high school, the only option open to him was to join a branch of the armed services. His father wouldn't have it any other way. He joined the Airforce to half-assedly follow in his fathers footsteps, never planning on making any true career out of it. He went through basic training and began his tour as a pilot of fighter jets. He slowly made his way up the ladder of authority, and found himself a captain of a deep space search and rescue ship with 22 years of service behind him. ??? Look for the thread soon in the Arena. Players will announced then.[/size]

[size=1][i]I'm sorry for the breif nature of this post, I don't have much spare time momentarily, but I want the story to continue.[/i] ??? Corey looked down at his debit card and wondered silently if they had frozen his account yet. He ran away from home, and fled the scene of a fatal car wreck. Not to mention he was currently in posession of marijuana... He shook his head and walked back up to the ticket line. Where to... The compass was pointing East Northeast. He looked at the large map over the salespeople. [b]Man-[/b] "Hello! Can I help you?" An overly cheery Japanese man loomed over him. [b]Corey-[/b] "Jesus you're tall..." He'd never seem an Asian man that tall. It was disconcerting. The man furrowed his brow. He had to be used to this kind of treatment. [b]Man-[/b] "I'm sorry? Can I help you?" Corey shook his head again. It didn't seem to want to clear. [b]Corey-[/b] "One one-way ticket to..." He glanced across the map. "Paris..." Had to be Europe... Had to be. He handed his card over and hoped it wouldn't be declined. He was handed a piece of paper to sign, and his card to replace into his pocket. He signed, grabbed the ticket, and made his way to the plane half expecting the voice to speak up again. It didn't. The hatch closed behind him and he made his way to the seat. Another plane...[/size]

[size=1][b]RioLaskand:[/b] There's an issue with time in yours, aswell. If your father was the original mission, he would have concieved your character in 2073, and been at least 70-something years old, taking into consideration the usual age for high ranking airforce officials when they partici[ated in the mission. With successful births being very, very rare when huys are that old, I'd say you need to do a bit of editting. :) I hope that made sense. [b]Baron:[/b] Whenever you can come into play, please do. You're always welcome, man. :D [b]Raze_3103:[/b] Grammer and word variety are a must. Your signup is good, but I think if you revised it a little you could clinch a spot in the RPG for sure. Expand your bio just a little bit more aswell.[/size]

[size=1]I know that sometimes it's difficult to keep an eye on all the details, but that's what I'm judging your signups on; the ability to write a short, detailed bio. It's easy to ramble on for a thousand words or more weaving a characters life onto the page. It takes control and style to pull off a great short bio. [b]shawnz:[/b] Read the storyline carefully. Then read your post carefully. Other than this semi-significant mistake, it's a great bio. [b]Tainted Rose:[/b] Assistant to the captain? That would be the Executive Officer, abbreviated XO. [b]DragonBlood:[/b] There seems to be a slight problem with time in yours. You said that your character was a candidate for the original Event Horizon rescue mission. Yet your character is only 36 years of age. That mission took place 54 years prior to this RPG's time frame. Edit accordingly.[/size]

[quote name='Frankie']I may not be very smart but i honestly dont care. I like where I am.[/quote] [size=1]Well... At least you're happy. Like James said, if no one bothered to figure out how things worked, we'd still be living in caves. Some ancestor to humans, at one point, probably asked himself how fire works. Then they wondered if it could be made. Bingo, you have one of the first major discoveries of man. I'm actually pretty excited about this. Granted, I wish they'd try and explore a comet outside of the solar system. I'd rather have more info on the Universe than Sol's realm.[/size]

[size=1]I'm currently working at a local Oil Change center and I've never been happier. The pay is only $6.00 an hour, but the people I work with are so cool it doesn't matter in the slightest. My boss is the most laid back guy in the world. He's the epitome of how I want to be when I'm older. All of my co-workers have such a good sence of humor, sometimes I'm rather sad to go home. The work is hard and honest. I come home smelling like crap with burns on my hands from hot oil and engines. My fingers are becoming permanently stained from oil. I've stained several of my own shirts that I wear under the uniform we have. But I love it. I'm going to be genuinely sad when I have to quit. My first job was as a salesman at an automated carwash. I'm actually still employed there, but since their labor budget got cut severely for summer, they have no problem temporarily taking me off the scheduel.[/size]

[size=1]Right at the moment, I'm listening to [b]People Are Strange[/b] by The Doors. I usually ogo through phases with the music I listen to. Right now I'm in an oldies phase. [i]The Doors. Pink Floyd. The Eagles. The Beatles.[/i] Etc. Probably in a week or so I"ll have moved back into my Marilyn Manson collection.[/size]

[size=1][list]Take Two[/list] [i]Note: This is the second time I've done this RPG. It turned out really great the first time, and I'd like to see where it goes with a new crew. All old characters are not allowed, but the players from the last one are welcome to sign up with a new character. I want only serious writers in this RPG. I want people that will make intelligent posts. I want people that will make more than three line posts. Also this RPG will contain many spoilers about the movie Event Horizon. Turn away if you want to see it through your own eyes on a TV. I suggest you see the movie, but it's not a requirement. With that said...[/i] The year is [b]2040[/b]. The infamous and revolutionary space ship known as the Event Horizon has disappeared. Powered by an engine that harnessed a black hole, the ship was supposedly able to travel great distances in the blink of an eye. The ship vanished after initiating it's engine somewhere in the vicinity of Neptune. No one knew where it went. [b]2047[/b]. The Event Horizon suddenly reappeared near where it disappeared and began emitting a distress signal. Dr. William Weir, the creator of the ship and it's unique engine, joined up with the crew of the rescue ship Lewis and Clark, led by Captain Miller. Weir hoped to salvage the ship and save it's crew. Determining where the ship has been for the last seven years was also a must. Upon arriving, the crew was nowhere to be found. They began setting the ship up for travel back to earth, when people began to die. Some tried to kill themselves while others seem to be killed by an unseen and extremely violent force. The crew was found slaughtered. While attempting to find some record of what happened to the crew, the group found a video recording. It showed the crew immersed in a perverse sexual bloodbath. People cutting holes in each other and ******* the wounds. Sodomy. Strangulation. Everything and anything you could possibly think of. And above it all towered one figure. A man, or so it seemed, with cuts lining his body, eyes carved out. In latin he spoke "Save me from hell." While still readying the ship for departure, a member of the rescue party informed everyone he made an error in the translation of the latin. "Save yourselves from hell" is what was actually spoken. Dr. Weir, the creator of the ship, eventually became infatuated and obsessed with his brainchild, which was now believed to have traveled to a different dimension. A dimension of chaos and, quite literally, hell. Weir attempted to kill everyone, but three escaped by detaching the part of the ship with the engine from the main part. When finally back at earth, the survivors awaken to a rescue team of their own. One of the rescuers opens his visor to reveal Dr. Weir. Perhaps the demons hadn't been destroyed. The events of that mission were never made public, mostly because of the unstable account given by one of the only conscious member of the Lewis and Clark that survived. The man she claimed was Dr. Weir from the rescue crew was named Daniel Moore and looked nothing like the doctor. She was stated insane and taken in for observation. [b]2101[/b]. The Event Horizon has been detected again. Fully whole, despite the accounts of what happened. It's on a course to earth, as fast as it's normal engines can take it. Another rescue party has been formed. Another mission has been made to recover the unique ship. The crew hasn't been told what supposedly happened the last time. [b]? Signups ?[/b] [b]Name:[/b] Nothing outrageous please. [b]Age:[/b] 27-54 [b]Gender:[/b] [b]Assignment:[/b] Engineer. Security. Weapons. Pilot. Etc... The captain spot is reserved for myself. [b]Personality:[/b] What your character is like. [b]Appearance:[/b] Descriptions. No pictures. [b]Short Bio:[/b] When I mean short, I mean no longer than two paragraphs or 20 lines.[/size]

[size=1]Running... The world passed by in a blur of motion. He had ran to his house, bypassed his mother dispite her protests, changed clothes, jumped out of a window to get around her, ran to a corner and called a cab, went to the airport, paid the man, booked a flight to Tokyo, and waited. Now he was on the plane. He was surprised at the ease he had conquered all the obstacles in his way. He had bought a passport in the terminal and had the picture taken not a minute later. They never questioned his story of going to see a friend he had met online. All conversations had been carried out with the same salesman smile he had worn every day at work. Convincing to a fault. It carried a simulation of happiness, a copy of warmth, an imagined interest. Cold is what he felt. Empty. Void. The plane hummed uncomfortably all around him. Corey sat wedged next to the window, watching the last rays of sun dissapear over the water. Non-stop from Milwaukee, WI to Tokyo, Japan. An outrageous price. He had less than a thousand left. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He slipped his earbuds back on and cued up a techno mix he'd made a while back. Corey closed his eyes and opened them again slowly. The sun was shining through his window. The flight was only supposed to be eight hours or so. How could the sun be back up already? His eyes focused. That wasn't sun. It was neon. Lights... From the ground. God... Tokyo was a bright place... The plane landed with a bit of turbulence, Corey had barely felt it. He barely felt anything. The flight attendant walked up the aisles when they had come to a stop and told everyone they could disembark. Static flared in his ears. He grimaced, but was becoming more and more accustom to the unprompted bursts of noise. It increased in pitch, and dropped to a murmur. A voice spoke up. A new one. It sounded like a woman. [b]??-[/b] "Welcome to Tokyo. Please make your way to the terminal and await further instructions." A horrible mockery of the flight attendant. The new voice sounded more sinister. He gathered his carry-on and was one of the first people off the plane, not sparing a look at either of the flight attendants or the captain. The terminal was bright. Too bright. The static came back. [b]??-[/b] "'Lost in a land unknown.' Something like that, right Corey?" He grimaced, remembering the quote from a book he'd once read. "No matter." He picked up his bag and started walking across the terminal. Static split his head and he doubled over. "Not that way my boy. The other way. We need to be a bit more alone. Business needs to be discussed." Corey picked himself up, pretending he'd twisted his ankle, and walked the opposite way he'd been going. "Here." He sat, placing his bag next to him. "Take out your MP3 player." He did, the battery seemed to be amazingly recharged to full, even though he'd been sure it had been on the entire flight. [b]Corey-[/b] "Ok, what now..." The menu came up by itself. His eyes widened slightly. [b]??-[/b] "We've added a new function to your MP3 player. The person you're trying to find has been equipped with a tracking chip. It was implanted during a routine doctors visit some months ago before we initiated this. You're all part of the plan. But first you need to meet." He highlighted the 'Track' item on his MP3. A digital arrow appeared on the screen. "Follow the arrow." Corey got up, pulled his bag over his shoulder, and walked out of the terminal. The arrow seemed to be some sort of GPS. Every time he got to a certain point, it shifted direction. He followed, tirelessly. A few times, he felt people behind him. Watching him. But they weren't there when he turned around. They were still watching him... What kind of trans-continental agency would be interested in him? He wasn't special. He could barely get through the day without a hit from his pipe... Corey stopped. Seagulls crowed overhead. Water sloshed against the hulls of ships and the rocks of the coast. The arrow was pointing towards the ocean. He thought hard for a minute, trying to think if there were any islands or anything somewhere out there before realizing the inevitable. He had to go to the mainland...[/size]

[size=2]The alarm clock cut through his dreams like corn through the bowels, swiftly and disgustingly. Allen Ridley rolled over and shut it off with a slap, knocking it to the floor and under his bed. He rolled over again. Sunlight streamed into the small apartment, lighting it with the glow of... [b]Allen-[/b] "Oh shit..." He forced himself to a sitting position and dug under the bed. His apartment smelled like cigarette smoke. Dishes littered every available surface. He pulled from nder the bed a half a piece of pizza, put it back, and then found the clock. 11:26pm. "Man..." He put it back under the bed and sat there. How long had it been going off? He thought he set it for nine. The doorbell rang. He stared at the door with blank eyes and stood. That's what had woken him up. Not the alarm. The doorbell rang again. "Coming..." Allen stood up slowly, wary of last nights leavings on the floor. He'd thrown a small party to celebrate his Wonka interview. Candy wrappers and beer bottles littered the room. He stepped over someone and placed a hand on the door, steadying himself. What a hangover... Allen opened it. [b]Delivery Guy-[/b] "Allen Ridley?" Allen nodded, trying to make the mans face come into focus. His face seemed too long for his body. "Sign here." Allen took the outstreatched pen with a grimace, and slashed a mark across the line. [b]Allen-[/b] "Thanks..." He grabbed the package and shut the door. Then opened it back up. "Sorry." He handed the guy a five, and shut the door. It was a small package, no larger than a boxed DVD. There was a letter attatched to it. Allen made his way over the bodies of comatose friends, and friends of friends, and sat down at his table. He opened the letter quietly, the slightest noise sending a spike of pain into his skull. [quote][i]"Don't fuck up, Ridley."[/i][/quote] [b]Allen-[/b] "What the hell?" The return address was for the Rolling Stone, his employer. He turned the note over, looking for more, but found nothing. His head seemed to clear a bit, overcome by pure curiosity. He tore off the wrpping on the package, unmindful of the noise. Several people on the floor groaned at the tearing of paper. He let the contents fall onto the table. The Best of Wonka Inc. Wonkas new album. A shiver went through his body as he tore off the plastic celophane. One of the corpses in front of the TV was moving. He glanced at his friend, and then back down at the CD case. What if... [b]Allen-[/b] "What if..." He said it barely audibly. Sweat had broken out on his brow. He clicked it open slowly, savoring the suspence. The CD glinted at him with an extremely flattering picture of Wonka on it. A small slip of golden foil fell from the inside cover. Allen jumped off of the chair, wracked his knee on the table, and fell to the ground with a mixed expression of pain and ecstacy on his face. He let out a loud whoop and several passed out bodies jerked.[/size]

[size=1][i]OOC: I'm out of school now, so I'll have a lot more time to post.[/i] --- As he stepped through the automatic doors of the local Jewel Osco, the MP3 player fizzled to a murmur again. His complexion went ghostly white dispite the stiefling heat outside. Corey looked around, suddenly very sure that someone was watching him. The store loomed in front of him in a haze of fluorescents and cosmetics. Beads of sweat broke out on his brow, the cold airconditioning blast having no bearing on his persperation. Not a soul was in sight. He carefully brought his gaze upward. The security cameras sat on the ceiling of the store like black domed eyes, staring into him. He hurried out of the entrance quickly. Before he entered the store, Queen had been playing in his ears. Bohemian Rhapsody. He yearned for it. Nothing but white noise... [b]Corey-[/b] "God help me..." He uttered the word more out of habit than actual spiritual inclination, being an athiest. He wound his way through the aisles, edging closer to the coolers with soda inside them. The flourescents hurt his eyes. Everything seemed too bright. Twentyfour hours ago he'd been at work, not exactly happy, but not scared to the point of crapping ones self. The coolers loomed into view. They seemed larger than normal. He had been working hard, earning money for college. Or so he said. College was an indefinate road on his highway of life. With a small pressure hiss, the cooler door opened and he grabbed two large bottles of Diet Coke out. White noise continued to pour out of his headphones. He couldn't hear anything else. Corey made his way from the coolers to the checkout counter, where a cashier suddenly appeared as if by magic. He saw her mouth move. No sound came out. [b]Corey-[/b] "H-h-huh?" The terror was difficult to keep out of his voice. He scratched his neck absentmindedly as he watched the girls lips move. [i]find everything alright?[/i] "Yeah... It was... great..." She gave him a look and rang up the two bottles of soda. [i]two oh five.[/i] Corey handed her the bills, longing for the sound of her voice. Anything but nothingness... [i]ninety-five cents is your change, have a good day.[/i] "Thankyou..." He stuffed the bottles in a bag and almost jogged out of the store. The hot, humid, swealtering air hit him like a sheet of silk. It felt great to be out of there. Out of the glowing lights, the pungent scent of disinfectant. Out of the cold, recirculated air. He looked up and down the street, for a minute imagining he could see black sunlight shining on the landscape. Corey shook his head and started walking back to his house. As he rounded the top of the hill, his music started playing again. [i]Didn't I take my earbuds out... Guess not...[/i] He shook his head again and scratched at the top of one hand. A few blocks down, the block that him and his family lived on, his fathers truck pulled onto the busy road he was walking on. He must want him to go somewhere with him. Corey searched his thoughts and tried to remember if he'd agreed to go to some hardware store with him yesterday. He couldn't remember. The music died in his ears again. His stomach dropped. All he could hear was the sound of his dads engine. [b]Corey-[/b] "Oh God... What's going on..." His fathers truck coasted toward his location. [i]He's going to hit me...[/i] All four wheels still planted directly on the road, the sun glinting off the white paint job, and the engines revving filling his mind, Corey stood rooted to the spot, unable to make his legs move. [i]He's going to hit me and I'm going to die. That's how it's going to end. Right here. Right now. On this sidewalk I've walked hundreds of times...[/i] But his father pulled right up next to him. He could hear the window being rolled down as clearly as if his head was next to the little electric motor inside of the door. He stared into his fathers eyes. [b]Dad-[/b] "Hey Corey. C'mere. We need to talk." Corey stood rooted to the spot. Something across the intersection caught his eye, but his fathers held his own in a vice grip. "Corey, take your headphones out and come here, now." His fathers voice was coming out of the earbuds. The engines revvving filled his head. And faintly, he could hear Rap music. "Corey. Come here right n-" --- 'You're worthless. Less than nothing.' --- [b]Corey-[/b] "DAD!" He jumped over the crumbled hood, cutting himself in several places on jagged bits of metal. The world had had the volume turned all the way back up. Metal on metal. The screaching of car parts jamming against on another. Popping tires and screams of onlookers filled his head. He couldn't get the door open. It was crumpled beyond function. He looked at his father and stopped. His head was lolling against one shoulder, his full beard blanketed in a veil of red. His gaze traveled up. A huge hole had appeared in his fathers head. Chunks of hair and skull littered his shirt and seat. A leaking grey mass had started to pour from the cavernous opening. The eyes... Not five seconds ago they had been full of life. Energetic and active. Now, nothing more than void spheres. Blank. Full of nothing. Corey took two, staggering steps back, fell on his ass, and vomited all over the front of himself. He looked to his left and saw a blackk Legacy crumpled into his fathers truck. Rap music still blared from the stereo. A black man sat slumped in the drivers seat. He looked back at his father, dead and bleeding in the drivers seat, his heart still vainly trying to pump blood to his body. Static filled his ears. [b]??-[/b] "You must go now, kid. Get the fuck out of this country. There's someone in Japan that can help you. You have enough money in your bank account. Go. Run, bitch." The voice cut out, and the earbuds fell from his ears. He jammed them into his pocket, and with a tearfilled glimpse at his dead father, ran.[/size]

[size=1]Jesus Christ, you guys. You all act like you've never been new members before. You act like you plopped into the midst of Otakuboards the well grammered and respectful members you are today. Please. Get off your damn high-horse. [b]We were [i]all[/i] like that at some point.[/b] And as for the Arena, who are we to judge a good RPG from a bad one? Grammer? Spelling? Creativity? Who gives a **** if you can have fun. The caliber of RPG isn't important. The only important thing is that the participants can have fun. If you check out an RPG that seems to leave a bad taste in your mouth with the lack of storyline or poor writing, don't sign up. But don't ***** about it. Just let the people that [i]are[/i] playing have fun. Get off you *** and write one yourself if you want a good RPG. I find people like you, Rhym, more annoying than any new member.[/size]

[size=1][b]Dad-[/b] "What's going on." He said it like a statement. Corey looked at his father, completely sober from the massive amount of adrenaline dumped into his bloodstream. [b]Corey-[/b] "Nothing dad... I'm fine, just having a nightmare." His father continued to stare. "It's all the stress. I've been trying to do better in school. It's almost over and it's so hard to stay interested. And graduation is soon. And... Everything is just kinda getting to me I guess..." His father sighed deeply and stood up. [b]Dad-[/b] "You had me pretty worried kid... You were screaming in your sleep. You aren't on drugs or anything, are you?" Corey leveled his gaze at his father. [b]Corey-[/b] "Dad, I'm not stupid." He said it with perfect sincerety. Like all the times before. Lying wasn't the worst thing that could be done. [b]Dad-[/b] "Go grab some soda for tomorrow from Osco. The air will do you good." Corey gave him a weak smile and went down to his room. He looked around quickly for his MP3 player, found it on a pile of clothes, and stuck it in his pocket. He also grabbed some cash, his dad would pay him back, and he wanted to pick up a pack of cigs. He climbed the stairs back up to the main floor and slipped on his shoes. [b]Corey-[/b] "I'm off dad." [b]Dad-[/b] "Ok, hurry back. Dinners in a half hour." [b]Corey-[/b] "Ok, bye." He walked out of the back door and out of the yard. The sun was dazzling. It was six in the afternoon and looked like one or two o'clock. Damn summer weather. He slipped his earbuds on and brought up The Eagles Greatest Hits Volume 2. Hotel California started playing, and he was already a block away from his house, the events involving his MP3 player earlier completely forgotten. The music was soothing. He loved old rock. It was better than nearly anything out there today. The music fizzled to a murmur. [b]Corey-[/b] "What the hell?" He pulled his MP3 Player out of his pocket and checked the battery. It was fine. And his headphones were still in there. He suddenly remembered the voice with the clarity of a diamond. The fear it instilled in him. How cold it made him feel. And the screams... [b]??-[/b] "Did you like the look into my world, Corey? The dream?" He looked around yearning to find someone that was talking to him. [b]Corey-[/b] "Who are you? Leave me alone!" The voice laughed, cold and harsh like an ice storm on windowpanes. [b]??-[/b] "I'm just the messanger. You'll meet our master soon enough. Look left Corey." He looked to the left and saw a large black Chevy Suburban sitting on the side of the road. He passed the windows and saw a man talking on a cellphone. The man was staring at him. He distincly saw his name pass over the mans lips several times. [b]Corey-[/b] "Who are you people?! Why are you watching me?! I haven't done anything!" The voice laughed again and went silent in his ears. The Eagles began playing again, and Corey stood there on the sidewalk, afraid and confused.[/size]

[size=1]I tend to look at life as a learning experiance. Since I believe, in a nutshell, that after we die we're reborn in another body. It's a learning experiance for our soul to take what it's learned and help us to make better decisions in the next life. It's also one hell of a fun time, or can be at least.[/size]

[quote name='Kitty][color=blue][size=1]"Conformists"? [i]That's[/i] what you call a bunch of people who just want to go to a dance and have fun during their last few weeks of high school? You're a 'goth', aren't you? And you sure seem to enjoy stereotypes, huh? =\[/size'][/color][/quote] [size=1]Damn. Do you think you could have been any more rude? I'm very sure that by conformists, SpiritWolf meant the people that go to prom just for the sake of going. The ones that'll spend a few hundred bucks on a dress or suit they will wear once, and then discard into the back of their closets to bring out on the night of that 10 year reunion and realize it doesn't fit anymore. If you're going to go to prom just to say you went, for no other reason, I'd call that person a comformist. And as for the goth comment you made, I feel exactly the same way SpiritWolf does. Does that make me a goth? Last time I checked, I don't own a single pair of black pants. Nor do I own a single piece of industrial metal jewelry, or overly hardwared clothing. I wear the same bluejeans and shirts I've had for years. SpiritWolf seems to have more insight into highschool life than you do. My prom is later this month. I'm not particularly sure I'm even going to go. They're going to play music I hate. I'm going to see people I dislike. And that's fifty bucks out of my pocket that I could be using toward college or a car. The only reason I'd have for going to prom is so I'd be able to go camping with a group of my friends afterward. And that's going cost about fifty anyway. SpiritWolf, if you didn't want to go, would your friend go alone? Assuming her boyfriend didn't make it back. If not, then I'd say yes, you're the backup date. But if she would go, then I'd say you're just being a good friend by not letting her go alone.[/size]

[size=1]I used to live in a pretty rough area, so I'm always going to have that little bit of fear prickling the back of my neck, alone or not. The week we moved out of our old house, there were two drive by shootings and a group of punks tried to steal my bike while I was on it. But now I live in a nice quiet place populated by senior citizens and paranoid ex-suburbanites. I'd give that dog a whole live cow if I were you. Amazing And do like The Baron, keep a candlstick or wrench in every room.[/size]

[size=1]Man, this RPG is really good. But it's moving too slowly. It's taking too long for people to post. I suggest people either speed up a little or we should get rid of the chapter system so people can post when they want to.[/size]