The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kattarin sat down quickly, in part because she was off balance, partly because the rock was suddenly a foot lower... Her head spinning, she waited for Ayrael to start talking, since apparently she didn't know anything about the real world.[/I] Ayrael: The first thing you need to realise is eighty percent of people and places are hostile. The second is that a lot of things that remain hostile are strange looking. Third thing is anything even remotely like nationalism, or any other kind of politics, should be avoided. Kattarin: That was easy enough. Ayrael: Wait for your head to calm down. Then it won't seem so easy. Kattarin: I'll take your word for that. [I]Kattarin reached up to massage her head. To her surprise, blood stained her hand when she brought it down. Ayrael gave a slight exclamation, and had her lie back, her head in Ayrael's lap. Ayrael doctored the wound quickly, it wasn't serious. However, Kattarin had apparently decided consciousness was a secondary concern. And the cramped quarters meant there really wasn't anywhere else Ayrael could put her. Ayrael sighed, and leant back, attempting to get some sleep without the benefit of semi-consciousness.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Raiha kind of made me laugh more....But that was at her. Does that count? Other than that, Ravenstorture of course. Other than that....yeah, some of you have been fun.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]The Tea Party also did a version of Bowie's "Heroes", which was great, and Jeff Buckley's "Everyone Here Wants You", and "No Woman No Cry". They've done quite a few... As well, some of my other favourite covers are some of the things Tori Amos did; Heart Of Gold, Smells Like Teen Spirit, and the like. I've also got a CD entitled Never Mind The Originals, Here's The Covers. It has quite a lot of good stuff. Dope's version of "You Spin Me Round Like A Record" (Dead Or Alive), Reel Big Fish's version of "Take On Me" (A-Ha), Placebo's version of "Johnny and Mary" (Robert Palmer), Ministry's version of "Lay Lady Lay" (Bob Dylan), Echo And The Bunnymen's version of "People Are Strange" (The Doors), Prodigy's version of "Fuel My Fire" (Cosmic Psychos), Fear Factory's version of "Cars" (Gary Numan), Goldfinger's version of "99 Red Ballons" (Nena - great song), Save Ferris's version of "Come On Eileen" (Dexy's Midnight Runners), Violent Femmes version of "Do You Really Want To Hurt Me" (Culture Club), Ramone's version of "Subsitute" (The Who), and the immortal Jeff Buckley version of "Hallelujah" (Leonard Cohen). Quite a list there, and those are just the high lights.[/font][/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by SilpheedPilot [/i] [B]What is with the Goth/Punks?! Besides...Goth and good grades dont mix...At all..A female who can kick butt isn't too common...Very weird, actually..Just letting everyone know, thats all..Alright, I'm thinking that no one should respond to this or we will have a Moderator breathing down our necks in no time. [/B][/QUOTE] [font=gothic][color=indigo]You're gonna get a mod breathing down your neck just based on the stereotypes. I'm a goth, and I tend to have a straight A report card, as do most of my non-gothic friends, so I don't know what the hell you're on about there, and I know plenty of females who could probably kick the hell out of you. Of course, several of them are second of third degree blackbelts, and could kick the hell out of me as well.... But onto the point, whether you tell people not to reply or not, posts like that, especially ones less than fact checked, really aren't neccessary.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Double_B_Diago, don't you suppose a thread that is entirely combat, with no storyline, might [i]just[/i] belong in the Battle Arena? Or is there some hidden gem that mysteriously failed to materialise?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]If your sign up form appears, and you're satisfied with the result, PM me and I'll reopen this. However, dealing with a series of "This shouldn't be here" style posts does not seem very interesting at the moment.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Alright...As I said in the thread itself, that plot you spoke of better materialise damn fast. And can these team-related conversations be kept to PM? If you really must advertise an open position, or your lack of a team, then just have Originalimp do it in a single, often edited post. Thanks.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]And you, YashamonMaster, along with about twenty other people, need to remember the fact that there is a report posts to moderator button for a reason. But yes, a level of back story and a sign up form are required. I'll leave this a day or two, and if you edit it into something acceptable, it can continue, otherwise it gets closed. And don't anybody be stupid enough to sign up before it gets edited.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]I don't know what the hell is going on here, but if this thread doesn't develop a) some coherence, and b) a storyline, then it will quite summarily crash and burn into wherever closed threads go. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka lifted her, until her eyes were level with his. He flicked his long tongue out, tracing her mouth. She opened it, and he kissed her, deep in her throat. He held her with his humanoid hands, and ran his claws lightly over her back. He pressed her too him, and felt her hands wrap in his fur. She made a small sound, but it didn't appear to be objection. He stopped kissed her a moment, and started on her neck. His fangs touched her neck, lightly digging into the skin. She moaned, obviously liking it. He pressed her back onto the bed. moving his large form over her.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Qyrain turned back to the woman, who appeared somewhat shamefaced. She wouldn't meet Qyrain's eyes.[/I] Qyrain: It's okay. Just tell me what you saw. Elairith: Who are you? Qyrain: I'm not from around here, if that's what you mean. Elairith: That's obvious. Qyrain: Then why did you ask? That's as much as I can explain. Listen in though, if you want. Elairith: But who are you? Qyrain: Alright. My name is Qyrain Alethyne. [I]Unfortuantely, someone heard him. Immediately, the tavern was a polarised rabble, wielding large weapons. Miles swore at him, as the crowd clamoured for blood. Miles waved his hand, and they disappeared, reappearing in the private study. Unfortunately, Elairith and the other one were with them too. Miles swore. Again. Then it was Qyrain's turn to swear. The horse was there too.[/I][/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Vyrim noted their sudden halt, and the man's sudden apparent refusal to move. Vyrim swore, and started towards them. It took nearly half an hour, and he didn't like what he saw when he got there. The man spun, and smiled at Vyrim. Vyrim was about twenty feet away, and he immediately tensed, sure that something was aboutt to happen. Raeven caught the tension immediately, and started towards Vyrim, a placating look on her face. Vyrim expected something to happen. He just didn't expect it to happen behind him. A burst of sand was all the warning he got, before a heavy object crashed into his back. He staggered forward, and spun, a snap kick already slicing outwards. All around him, people were leaping upwards out of the sand. Bandits. An ambush. Ah well. Such is life in the desert. Although, that did mean there was some kind of shelter nearby...If only they could deal with the score or so of people that surrounded them.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka shrugged, and stooped, picking her up. He raised the silver talisman up on one claw, examining it closely. He didn't recognise it, so he slipped it around Iolanthe's neck. He looked around, wondering wear the resident of this particular den was. He hadn't actually intended to hole up here, but he knew it would scare her. Now that she was out, with a little prompting, he slung her over his shoulder, and started back for Khalith's hideout. It wouldn't hurt to have her ignorant of a way to escape, how to get back, so to speak. It didn't take long. Khalith came out to meet him, no doubt his sharp sentries had picked up Kynjaka long ago, no matter that the demon had noticed nothing. The wily drow seemed unconcerned with whatever had befallen.[/I] Khalith: So tell me, do I have to pay for much? Kynjaka: Unless healing spells cost something these days, then no. Khalith: Who's your ...companion? Kynjaka: Her name's Iolanthe. She's a dagouret, obviously, formerly a gladiator. She threw a skull at Val'Shagress Vondeux. [I]Khalith raised an eyebrow, though he probably found such audacity refreshing.[/I] Khalith: Why do you have her? Kynjaka: She interests me. Oh, and next time... [I]He leant down, his amethyst eyes close to Khalith's much smaller red ones. He knew he ran quite a risk, but trusted that Khalith trusted his integrity, and not order the score of warriors that no doubt surrounded them to attack.[/I] Kynjaka: Warn me. [I]With that, he took to the air, returning to his hidden hole. With Iolanthe's wings, keeping her in would require an arcane touch. So he sealed the door with faerie fire, and lay her on a makeshift bed, waiting for her to awaken.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Tw34ky, please put some more effort into your posts. Not just length, but grammer and spelling as well.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Name: Kattarin Quisanth Age: 23 Race: Human Class: Siren Appearance: What do you think I look like, you creep? Try checking the attachment. She's about 5"10. Connections to Past Heroes: There was this mobile phone call a while back....but the court said I'm not allowed to talk about it. So None. Bio: Kattarin is somewhat young for a Siren, but then she has been training for 80% of her life, or so. Her parents were Sorcerors, or Sorceress, and were quite proud of their magic, and attempted to teach it to Kattarin. Kattarin was, of course, interested, but then she was also interested in stabbing people with small sharp objects. So she devoted as much time to that as to her magic, and synergised them. Her parents weren't really impressed. Kattarin didn't give much of a damn. She did, however, give a bit of a damn about the person she trained with. They'd lived on the outskirts of a small village, and Kattarin had done her physical training in town, with a young thief named Quiryth. Quiryth, however, had a problem. That problem was the guild leader of the village, who decided she'd make more money as something a little less enjoyable... Quiryth decided to leave. Kattarin decided to go with her. Equipment: Sharpshadow blades- currently ataghans. They're a pair of daggers used in conjunction with the twisted shadow ability. Jo staff - two foot long staff, with a series of spikes coming out of one end. Leather brigandine: Black, and normally not worn unless neccessary. Magic: Twisted Shadow: Used with her daggers, her blades become basically insubstantial, and don't return to corpreal state until she wants them to...Such as when they're inside someone. It has the slight disadvantage of reshaping the blade each time though. Stabbing with a kris and getting back a stilleto can really piss one off. Manticore's Envy - The spikes on the jo staff suddenly become air borne. They remain attached to the staff, however, by an etheral string, making them a veritable whip of however-many-tails. Wyvern's Sting - Kattarin's daggers, no matter the shape they're currently in, become tainted with a vicious toxin. Rather then deliberately attacking cells, it blocks the receptors in the cells. So people die very slowly.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Come on people, longer stuff.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Unless you come up with a storyline Originalimp, don't even think about it. Because if it's that random, than it's spam anyway. Get yourself a plot, and I'll leave you alone.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka felt his veins constrict slightly, borne away by etheric force. The ***** had blood-bonded him. No matter.[/I] Kynjaka: I recommend you sever your ties rather quickly. Iolanthe: Hmmm? Kynjaka: Don't worry. [i]He pierced the tip of his finger, and lay a drop of blood on Iolanthe's shoulder, inconspicuously. He then let his body drain away, back into his own plane. The connection with the mortal realm, however, was kept intact, via the blood he had left there. From this realm, he felt the pressure of the blood bond as an inredible agony. Still, he could not leave this plane through these means, which meant she would be pulled into it, as it was her power that had made the bind. Which meant that should she choose to continue the link, she'd be spending some time in the Abyss. Unprotected time, at that. Sure enough, the pain cut off almost instantly. Kynjaka smiled to himself, and refocused on the drop of blood still on the mortal realm, and redrew himself to it. He reappeared in a small side street, one that Iolanthe had apparently retreated to upon his disappearance.[/I] Iolanthe: Where did you go? Kynjaka: Dealing with a minor inconvenience. [I]Rather pleasingly, the blood bond now existed in a single drop. And that drop wasn't exactly a lot, in the body of a huge demon. Nevertheless, he expelled that drop through the still present piercing in his finger. No point in letting a canker exist.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Offending a Val'Shagress and appropriating a most likely wanted gladiator...Kynjaka wouldn't be surprised, or even concerned, if that reward increased somewhat. He smiled anyway, and slowed his pace, allowing the dagouret to catch up. They reached the door with surprisingly little interference. The survival focused drow weren't exactly eager to stop a dagouret and a rather large glabrezu though, so perhaps it wasn't surprising. They stepped out into Menzoberranzen, Iolanthe taking to the air for a few moments to stretch her wings.[/I] Kynjaka: I have a place we can hole up for a while, until we work out exactly what we're in for. Iolanthe: You think anyone will pay attention? Kynjaka: They [i]always[/I] pay attention. They don't always act, but they always pay attention. And I just walked out on a rather expensive deal, with a person who seemed rather set on keeping me around.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Vyrim didn't really sleep much, more lay there and waited. It was a convenient spot, in the middle of a completely featureless plain, that was most likely uninhabited. Great for hunting, he was sure, especially with complete strangers. Still, a meal would be nice. It was, however, half an hour before he had any sign. On the dark horizon, he saw two slightly darker dots moving against a black background. Taking a chance, he shrugged, and flared the light up as a beacon. They were still, however, quite a way away, but he didn't feel like moving much.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]At last, Miles rose from his chair, motioning for Qyrain to do the same. He followed Miles as the elderly mage lead him outside the study, out of the library even.[/I] Miles: Allow me to show you the state we live in now. You can see where buildings have been damaged directly by magic, or by nullification, or simply torn down. We're a magic dependant nation, and this inability to use it without the fear of its consquences is not making life easy. [I]Qyrain walked silently, absorbed in the city. He had attacked these people, torn their lives apart. He was the cause for their forlon visages. Miles suddenly stopped, and lead Qyrain in a different direction. They walked into a small tavern, one crowded with people. They ordered a meal, and cast around. The place was packed, both tables and standing room almost completely taken. There were two spare seats at one table, avoided because the occupants were nephilim. Not being prejudiced himself, Qyrain gestured. Miles nodded, and they approached the table.[/I] Qyrain: Mind if we sit here? [I]One of the nephilim, a female, was too busy eating to really care, the other merely shrugged. Qyrain and Miles sat down, and waited for their meal to arrive, Qyrain still glancing at those around him, as if he were afraid someone would recognise him for who he was.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]I give you all the wonder that is....KFC-H. That's right. Kentucky Fried Chicken Heads. A woman ordered your average bucket of chicken pieces, and found a complete head, fully cooked, inside it. The taste is unreported... Then of course, we have the incident where the lobster, which had been frozen, cooked, then placed on a plate, decided to survive all that, and get up and start walking away. They'd frozen it to try and kill it, and after a while they assumed it was dead, simply because it wasn't moving. Apparently, it wasn't cooked for long enough, merely thawed out. Personally, I eat as little as possible. For a variety of reasons. I did, however, once find a mulberry in one of my milkshakes, but I'm aware of the guilty party there.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kynjaka watched her a while, growing tired of her drug haze. He stepped forward, and put a humanoid hand on her head. She arched under his hand, as eldritch fire ran through her veins, cleansing the blood of impurities. She shuddered back onto the bed as he let go, and when she opened her eyes, she was again coherent.[/I] "I take it that you desired some lucidity" Kynjaka: Not really. I just thought you'd prefer to be in control of yourself again. "That's a nice thing to do" Kynjaka: And there I was thinking it was the ether doing that. "Afraid not. Why are you here, anyway?" Kynjaka: You seem preferable to my last company. A little too much heat would most likely be attracted by extended liasons. "Then you attach yourself to a random gladiator?" Kynjaka: Seemed like a good idea at the time.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Vyrim heard the sand shift and scrape, and turned to examine whatever approached them. He couldn't tell if it was humanoid, but it looked vaguely bipedal. It also carried a weapon. Vyrim rolled to his feet, hands in a stiff knifehand position. The thing stopped, its weapon moving in a menacing, low arc. Raeven rose to her feet, her stance also ready for combat. The thing sniffed the air again, Vyrim becoming quite certain it wasn't exactly human. He conjured another ball of flame, to get a better look at it, but also to employ as a weapon should the situation require it.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]I tend not to give a damn about honour, one way or another. Not in a fight anyway. But then, most people think it's "dishonourable" (though they tend to use the term "gay" or something to that effect) to use your feet in a fight at all. Damn football playing no necked hicks. But what I mean about knife fighting is that it basically eliminated the use of one hand. You can only thrust and slash really. You can't grip anything with a knife blade, which can often be useful. You can only hit only certain angles for another. And if you move forward, chances are you'll find your arm twisted back so you're walking onto your own knife. If someone looks like a pansy for using a knife in a fist fight, they look even worse when the other person walks away and they don't.[/font][/color]