The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=crimson]One of those crazy uncles who gets drunk at every family gathering, and always seems to end up ruining weddings? Surely not.... Congratulations, as the consensus goes. I'm so bad at this emotional stuff...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Ilmiwyrth gave a wry smile, and reached out, his long fingered, taloned hand tracing a thin line down the side of her cheek. He was nice enough not to draw blood though. Now what in hell was he doing with a metamorphic faun sitting there stroking him? Strange, this normally didn't happen.... Ilmiwyrth didn't intend to pursue that thought. He looked at her closely, realised exactly what she was doing. He wasn't aware that he was exuding any kind of scent, but she seemed to picking something up. And she seemed to like it. He wasn't going to pursue that thought either. Of course, that was nothing compared to the more than slightly worrying knowledge that his father would probably approve.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Vichante removed his hands from her throat, and grabbed both her wrists in one hand, holding them above her head. He shifted position slightly, removing any leverage she might have gained, and returned his other hand to her throat. He smiled down at her, teeth flickering into view for a second before disappearing into a deep, satisfied smile. His neck craned down, his mouth opening. First his lips brushed lightly over her neck, elicting a slight shiver, a slighter moan. His mouth opened further, his teeth now tracing more forceful lines over her skin.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Qyrain alternated surprised stares between the demon scaling the wall and his own chest. He absently ran his hands over the skin, finding it dry, and cool to the touch. The blood that stained his shirt was also drying, amazingly rapidly. He turned to Indrid and Dragella. Neither of them seemed to have an explanation, or even an excuse, handy. Qyrain sighed, and retrieved his scythe. Once again, something strange had happened, and once again, nobody seemed willing to explain why. He blinked a few times, silently asking Dragella if his eyes had decided to be remotely normal again. Just as silently, she gave him an answer. Well, that was one thing out of the way. It would probably be a little hard to explain.[/I] Qyrain: What say we promptly remove ourselves from here before he brings back some larger, perhaps more intelligent, friends? Indrid: What say... [I]They picked up their pace as they left the area. Not that they'd admit it, but they did. Qyrain wasn't paying attention. His thoughts were fixed internally, an introversion brought on by happenstance rather than a simple quirk of personality, for once. Dragella cast him a few more irritated glances. Apparently she really, really didn't like it when people closed themselves off. Qyrain didn't even know how he did it, it was something along the lines of wrapping his aura into a tight snarl around him, confounding any attempts to access it. Perhaps that was what had contributed to the light, and the strange feeling like cold lightning that had run through him, leaving him feeling like a livewire. Perhaps his unconscious manipulation of his etheric self had given him a measure of instinctive defense. Perhaps it was an ingrained, instinctual human reaction to the presence of the infernal. Qyrain wasn't certain, and was even more uncertain about whether anyone else was certain either.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Vichante gently removed her hands from his throat, placing them behind him, and moving their bodies close together. His own hands rose slowly, fingers tracing soft lines over her spine. He traced even softer lines over the inside of her mouth. She almost growled at him. Apparently, she wasn't that used to teasing. Vichante wasn't too concerned though. He drew her to him more tightly, his mouth enclosing hers more demandingly.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Ilmiwyrth: If you're looking for a pulse, then you'll not get very far. Neuvox: Why would I be looking for a pulse? Ilmiwyrth: So you know where to dig in. Neuvox: Alright...Why would I not succeed in finding a pulse then? [I]Neuvox suddenly found herself hitting the ground quite hard, and semi incased in some kind of half darkness. Then the half darkness moved away, and she realised it was Ilmiwyrth.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Because as a basically incorpreal being, a pulse is pretty redundant my dear. [I]He picked her up again, and dropped her on his shoulders. He kept walking, a slight smile crossing his inky features as she muttered to herself.[/I] Neuvox: You can do that at will? Ilmiwyrth: Actually, being solid is the act of will. Shadow state is natural. Neuvox: Can you interact with other objects in that state? Ilmiwyrth: You're thinking I'd make an excellent thief in that state, aren't you? Neuvox: So? Answer the question. Ilmiwyrth: No. I can easily kill other beings, shadows being a form of Unlife, but I can't interact. Physical boundries aren't a problem though. Neuvox: Why am I still alive then? Ilmiwyrth: Because it wouldn't do to have a dead thing inside my leg when I re-solidified.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Vichante: And I was informed that I was impossible. Shalistrae: I'm sure they were right. [I]He looked her in the eyes a long moment, whether softly or in brooding wasn't apparent. Shalistrae stared right back at him, their eyes not really conveying anything, but remaining fixated nevertheless. Shalistrae still appeared slightly embarrassed, and Vichante couldn't help himself. He raised an eyebrow suggestively, grinned lasciviously, and slowly ran his tongue over his teeth. The reaction was somewhat unexpected.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Vahnati are a race, not a class, I'm afraid Jack.... This looks like it's going to get scrapped anyway.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Qyrain shot Indrid a raised eyebrow. Very disturbing.... He didn't comment though. He wasn't exactly sure how much first aid would help a demon, but trying was probably the course of action. He kept his thoughts fairly still, earning him an annoyed glare from Dragella.[/I] Dragella: That isn't that neccessary. Qyrain: Neither is anything else. [I]He doctored the wound fairly efficiently, using a supply of bandages from his back pack. He ended using vodka to clean the wound though. Probably not the best thing for it, but what could you do. The bandages were wrapped tight around her stomach, up onto her lower ribs, leaving it fairly stiff, but effective. Even if were a human, Qyrain would have set the odds to survival.[/I] Qyrain: You'll live. Dragella: I gathered that a few minutes ago. You have my thanks. Qyrain: I gathered that. Dragella: What from? Qyrain: The fact that you seemed pretty concerned about your incipient mortality. The blood loss isn't as bad as it first seems. But I don't recommend doing anything strenuous for a while.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]*Resists temptation to re-raise idea that a compulsary rules test should be given before people can sign up*. Gender symbols.... I guess I could live with them, but I don't really see the point. It's not that big a deal to tell people whether you're male or female if they can't work it out, and they probably regret asking more than you regret telling them.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]The spellchecker idea is probably fundamentally flawed. If it's not automatic, than those who don't have the inclination to spell words correctly anyway most likely wouldn't have the inclination to use it, and let's face it, minor typos and the like aren't a problem. It would really be there to target those who don't put any effort in.[/font][/color] [QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Sara [/i] [B][size=1]The things about a spell-checker--There are a [i]lot[/i] of words it won't recognize. People's names, titles of series, websites, even things like [i]manga[/i] or [i]newbie.[/i] (or [i]Otaku[/i].) I don't want something suggesting that I [i]really[/i] mean [i][b]mango[/i][/b] every time I post about Chobits... [/size] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=crimson][font=gothic]If it's a custom word database though, as most of them are these days, then adding in commonly used terms from anime or whatever the hell else uses language and spelling that looks like random anagrams of something written in another language in the first place... User names could probably added when people sign up. Names could be a problem, I'll give you that.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Name: Qyrain Alethyne Age: 23 Sex: Male Class: Assassin Short Bio: Bleh. Who cares. If you really want one I'll come up with one. Weapons: Twin katals.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson] [B]Semi-useless background information that isn't exactly relevant to gameplay, but should be read anyway[/B] The Empire. A rather unauspicious, undescriptive, certainly unimaginative name. But all that is required. For it is The Empire. There aren't any alternatives. There certainly aren't any other Empires around to challenge it. On the surface, it reigns supreme. Not because it has its army, though not all powerful, is unmatchable. Not because of some arcane might. Not because it is just or fair. Not because it was sanctioned by any deity. The Empire rules for one simple reason. There isn't an Nobody wants to be in power. After all, isn't it better to get on with one's own life than to have to deal with other people's as well? The globe has been explored. Every long forgotten cave and dungeon has been exposed to the light. All the evil monsters have been killed. All the good ones have been too. So all that remains is a status quo based empire on humans. The Empire doesn't expand. It has nowhere to go. But then, where did everyone else go? Anyone who, in the long somewhat misty past, chose not to submit to this empire, all those non-humans who were persecuted, and the like. Surely, this not overly just, not overly cruel empire didn't simply exterminate them with their not overly powerful army? You're damn right it didn't. In the Empire's not particularly ornate or impregnable castle, there's a small room, with a mirror like hoop in it. It's fairly dusty. No one's bothered to replace the glass. Not that it ever had glass in it, but that fact, like the mirror's existance, is not widely known, and would be overlooked if it were. Exile: [I]n[/i] banishment, normally as punishment for a crime or wrongdoing. A period of separation from a particular place. Exile is not only a state of mind. Exile is a place. A very, very large place. It is a system of huge caverns, lying about a mile beneath the surface. A lot of the caverns are heated, there's ample food, though normally in the form of huge mushrooms or native lizards, and there are plenty of underground rivers. So hey, there you go. The mirror wasn't a mirror. In its heyday, it once teleported malcontents, rebels, fey creatures of all kinds and anyone with the remotest hint of magical ability or some other kind of aberration down into these caves. The Empire no longer had to worry about them, they didn't have to slaughter them, and the process didn't raise embarrasing questions. It did upset the natives though. There were three races living in Exile already, the Empire had never heard of them though. The Slithlerzaki, a race of humanoid lizards, the Nephilim (don't rant at me about what Nephilim actually are, I'm aware of it, but that's irrelevant here), a race of humanoid felines, and the Vahnati. Now, the Vahnati were a strange group. Physically, they were tall, spindly, and rather pasty looking. They had been around a few million years longer than anyone else in the caves, but that was no excuse. They were however, the most powerful mages around. When the refugees from the Empire started to show up, the Slithlerzaki and the Nephilim simply because very hostile towards them as well. The Vahnati just went deeper underground, and none of the refugees ever found out they existed. After a few centuries, the humans from the surface came out as the dominant race. The Nephils, the Sliths, and the countless diverse miscellaneous creatures from both the surface and from Exile, were still around, but the humans were no longer in a position where light skirmishes threatened them with extinction. Once they'd established themselves, the humans, along with a few others, decided that getting home was the next priority. They spent years researching teleportation and fashioning crude weapons from whatever they could. Then, finally, they attacked. The teleported into the Empire's central castle, and assassinated the Emperor. The Empire, quite predictabily, retaliated. The Exile forces were slaughtered. The Empire didn't have skilled generals, or better trained fighters, though they did have superior weapons. They simply had the numbers, and the persistancy. It was a few months into the war, which Exile was losing badly, when the Vahnati started showing up. They destroyed a of Exile's cities, and blockaded many areas with impassable magical barriers. No one had any idea that it was the Vahnati, because no one actually knew they were around yet. The Vahnati made contact sometime later, demanding the return of several important artifacts. A party of warriors from Exile retreived them, off the corpses of Empire soldiers. In exchange, the Vahnati basically wiped out anyone from the surface who entered the cave complex. The war drew slowly to a close. The Empire, its armies beaten back and its citizens amazed that such creatures actually existed at all, welcomed the return of all the creatures from Exile. Even the Vahnati showed up on the surface every now and then. So here we are, another status quo. There's always something though. When former Exiled people and creatures woke up and found their towns surrounded by an impassible barrier, they thought it was a bad memory...or maybe a mushroom flashback. Turns out, they were wrong. It seemed a pack of druids had gone crazy. Trees were appearing everywhere, animals were going wild, the earth seemed to have turned against those that inhabited it. People were scared, and had no where to run. Then some bright fool suggested Exile. So the entire population of the surface, driven by fear, descended into the caves again. Most of them died. The former Exiles survived easily. The population of sentient life was more than halved. The caves couldn't sustain it. But no one minded, they were safe, and whatever terror plagued the surface, didn't worry them. The third great status quo. It was the Vahnati that broke it this time. They systematically started wiping out humans, Nephils, Sliths, and anything else they could get their hands on. People again milled around crazily for a while. This time, instead of some kind of cohesive movement, all sorts of actions took place. Some returned to the surface. Some stayed and fought. Some tried to make peace. Some explored new, strange caverns. The Vahnati attacks stopped a few months later, leaving life again the spread out, uncohesive mass it was meant to be. Forty years from there. Civilisation is starting to return properly, both on the surface and down below. Contact is frequent and friendly. The phenomenons that plagued the sentients for the past few centuries are starting to be explained. Another status quo. This time, we get all the fun of breaking it. Or at least, helping it break. It's starting to anyway. You see, through all this, there had always been the Empire. There had always been one, central authority. But someone had decided that idea didn't work, and now multiple goverments, kingdoms, democracies, theocracies, even the occasional pan-theocracy, though it tended not to work... were around. And this obviously lead to conflict. Mainly with the Vahnati. Their awesome magical prowess meant that even with all other sentient life (holistically, not neccessarily all individuals) matched against them, they still had a damn good chance of coming out on top. [b]A few notes I'll have to mention[/B] Yes, I know I took quite a tanget from the original Exile storylines, and played fast and loose with a few facts. I don't care. I'm going to insist on a few things in this rpg. The main ones are originality or character, detailed as possible character sign ups, and a willingness to actually do things in the storyline. I've noticed in many rpgs that people don't have their characters run off and do exciting things because they don't want to ruin the storyline. So they sit there and talk, run out of things to say, no one posts, the rpg dies. This time, everyone is completely and utterly welcome to do anything they want with the storyline. Make something up, I don't care what, but just don't sit there. It doesn't matter, because the real storyline has nothing to do with the above. Of course, if you do get too cocky, or annoying, then you suddenly aren't part of the rpg anymore. I want originality, and manipulation of storyline, not reshaping the world to your liking. So basically there is complete freedom. Do what you want to do, be what you want to be. A human, a Slith, a Nephil (PM me for further details on those races), a giant fish, or an intergalactic space ferrent. I don't care, provided you do it well. You can helping the Vahnati, trying to kill them, or running around whacking leaves off trees. Do it well, make an impact on the storyline, that's all I ask. But again, make a joke of the whole thing, you don't get in. Simple as that. I've had too many rpgs die horribly to give a damn about humouring people. I lied above...it's not complete freedom. This is a fantasy rpg, keep it in character. (The whole no guns, no robots etc) Obviously, I'll be screening sign-ups. Strenuously. [B]Ye olde sign uppe form...[/B] [B]Name:[/B] [B]Race:[/B] Be creative, and descriptive. One stipulation...no elves. I don't care if that offends some people, I don't want any elves. At all. But even if you do pick something fairly normally like dwarf or orc or dragon or whatever, describe in as detailed a fashion as possible. [B]"Class":[/B] Nothing that actually relates to the game, or restricts your character in any way. It's just information for me about how you'll be playing your character. Again, descriptive, if you pick something even mildly esoteric. [B]Bio:[/B] If you can't write a few hundred words, don't bother me. [B]Description:[/B] Make it good. I'll accept pictures, but there had better be text with them. [B]Other:[/B] Any other random trivia about your character, from what their dietry preferences are to what equipment they are carrying. Alright, that's about it. Just remember, detail, a willingness to screw with the storyline, and persistance. The screening of sign ups is based not only on quality but also on how compulsively I know you post. (Apologies to anyone I haven't had much contact with). *One last note: All references such as giant space ferret, making a living whacking leaves off trees, and listing dietry requirements are used as illustrations only, and they and their ilk should not appear anywhere. This rpg is not a joke....kind of weird for me really.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Vyrim allowed himself to be dragged along, eventually jogging an easy lope to keep up with her. He gave her a slight smile, and waited a few minute before finally asking.[/I] Vyrim: Where are we going? Raeven: I'm not too sure yet. But if we walk far enough, we should find something. Vyrim: Can you ride? Raeven: Yes. Vyrim: Then I suspect a horse would be our first bet, unless you have more interesting choice of steed in mind. Raeven: If it can bear both of us, I'm happy with it. Vyrim: Another factor I hadn't considered.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view. No really, we are, in case you thought I might be sarcastic in my belief that we're all going to go on a mass hentai destruction rampage simply because one of ye olde personal freedom unrespecting bigots told us too...Wait, that was the dark ages. I'll agree with you about anything hick related being bad. But I'm Australian....it's epidemic over here.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Another possible solution is that when you open a thread that has a banner or whatever that is hosted on OB, it will tell you that you're viewing the attachment in the thread the banner was posted in. Happens to me all the time. If someone is sad enough to steal OB passwords though....hehehe...*shoots a look at Cloricus*[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Vichante left his eyes slightly hooded, not really certain where this was going, where he wanted it to go, where she wanted it to go, where it could go, and most importantly, exactly why his eyes were not adjusted to whatever light was around. Kind of anti-climatic that. He absently wondered exactly who's idea it was that got him into this. He suspected Lifé, but doubted that this particular ....altercation....was entirely of her engineering. The rather intriguing creature in front of him probably had a lot to do with it.... That thought analysed, his eyes opened fully in surpise, and he wondered just what lead to that choice of words.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Ilmiwyrth: And I have until some ambitious whelp with enough sense to catch me off guard does me in. Or until I become so unassailably strong that life simply gets boring and I throw my life force in the middle of some maelstrom or dungeon for some brave hero to capture and recover. Neuvox: You wouldn't make a good legend. Ilmiwyrth: Oh? All the elements are there. I'm not a pure breed, so there was obviously racial discrimination. I'm on the surface away from all the nasty evil demons, so I'm obviously merely a misunderstood being trying to atone for what his race has done. A doer of deeds, and a teller of tales. Neuvox: You almost sounded sincere for a minute there. Ilmiwyrth: Call it a character defect. Neuvox: Gladly. [I]Ilmiwyrth laugh in morbid appreciation, and returned to his intense evaluation of the city and its sentients. Neuvox caught his fixation, and raised an eyebrow.[/I] Neuvox: Are you sure you're not planning an invasion? Spying out routes for your forces to attack? Ilmiwyrth: If I was, all "my forces" would have to do would be to leap down off this ledge. Neuvox: Strange, I don't see them anywhere. Ilmiwyrth: Yes you do. Neuvox: Confident, aren't we? Ilmiwyrth: Slightly bored actually. I do get bored, and quite easily. So, did you have anywhere in mind to start looking first, or did you want to sit here in some misguided nostalgia a while longer?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Qyrain simply followed the screams. And the gunfire. Strangely enough, the gunfire was the sound that lasted longer. Perhaps whoever was out there had actually survived. It was, of course, theoretically possible, but Qyrain didn't have a lot of respect for people, angels, demons, or anything else that simply decided to say hello these days. And there were a lot of them. Hell, quite literally at times, all sorts of previously fantasy consigned creatures were appearing all over the place. Qyrain had a strange, sneaking suspicion that God, Satan or whoever else had been reading a little too much Lovecraft. But then, so had he, so he wasn't in a position to argue or accuse. He walked warily down the street, a large scythe resting easily on his shoulder, eyes alert but not really concerned. His gait was almost laconic, as if he were in complete control of the situation. Considering the rather bloodsoaked person who just walked out of the alleyway, there probably wasn't much of a situation to be in control of. The man stopped warily, a pair of uzis aimed quite firmly at Qyrain. Qyrain raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't react.[/I] Qyrain: Is enough of that blood yours to make standing around pointless? "Not exactly" Qyrain: Then are you going to keep aiming those at me, or would you prefer to be reasonable? [I]The man lowered them warily, tensing slightly as he holstered them. Qyrain rolled his eyes, and the man relaxed slightly.[/I] Indrid: My name's Indrid Kint. Qyrain: Qyrain Alethyne. Do you do this for fun and profit, or did you simply not have a choice this time around, and carry guns because you're paranoid? Indrid: Do you interrogate people based on some kind of prejudice, or do you simply not have anything remotely relevant to say? [I]Qyrain gave a metallic, almost amused laugh, that was more sardonic irony than humour.[/I] Qyrain: Depends on the circumstances. Did you have somewhere to be, or should we kill some more flying aberrations? Indrid: That'll do.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Initally, I was quasi-interested in that rpg hack thing, simply for the novelty. But my main concern with it now is the lack of freedom. Wandering around posting simply to make some character get stronger seems to me to reduce the overall quality of rpgs. Every rpg I've been in that was good, was good because of the quality of writers involved, not because of how much they've posted. And when you're someone like me who often changes characters every second rpg, having to build them up because of some dodgy hack rather than simple write the character well and post decently seems pretty stupid to me. But then, I'm a contentious bastard.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Vichante: That's strange. Shalistrae: What? Vichante: Last time I implied to a ...female acquaintance...that she was a bad choice, I got slapped... [i]When the ringing in his ears faded, he looked back at her in indignation. That was surprisingly painful, and even more uncalled for.[/I] Vichante: What was that for? Shalistrae: I assumed you didn't want to be disappointed. Vichante: Oh trust me, I'm fine now.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Ilmiwyrth: ...Let me get this straight. This world measures maturity on [i]age[/i]? Neuvox: Of course. [i]Ilmiwyrth almost shuddered.[/i] Ilmiwyrth: Childhood must have been horrible. Neuvox: Oh? And what was yours like? Ilmiwyrth: Simple. In my realm, when you're a child, people underestimate you, so it's easy to kill them, and not be a child. Neuvox: So you attain maturity through stealing energy from others? Ilmiwyrth: We prefer the terms "reiving", or "looting from a mangled corpse", but that's basically the idea. Neuvox: And how long did it take you to mature? Ilmiwyrth: Fully? About a week. Neuvox: And I suppose that was quite recently, all things considered. Ilmiwyrth: Actually my dear, I'm quite a bit older than you are. Neuvox: Then you should catch on just fine. Ilmiwyrth: To this? Trust me, that's the last thing I want to do.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Name: Qyrain Alethyne Age: 347, but that's basically irrelevent. Decription: Six foot three, but overly slender. A racial trait, that. Very pale skin, and pale blond hair, that falls just past his shoulders. Eyes are blue. Tends to wear leather pants and a fairly loose black shirt. Background:Qyrain is one of the Sidhe. He's currently in the mortal realm doing basically what everyone else is doing, looking for Merlin. Of course, Qyrain doesn't really have a choice about being in the mortal realm, but that's basically irrelevant for the moment. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Name: Qyrain Alethyne Age: 23 Alignment: Fairly good, provided you're willing to look the other way at times. Race: Human Short Bio: No matter adaptable, insane, perverted, powerful, dangerous or simply unkillable your average demon is, the humans will always have one advantage over them. And that advantage is quite simple. Humans are too bloody arrogant to admit they're wrong, or go down without a fight. Qyrain had a short fling with a few demons early on in the invasion, and decided he didn't like them. Basically, three or four winged six foot tall lizard looking creatures decided to appear in a small town. And proceeded to eat lots of people, among other atrocities. Qyrain, at the time, was in the local hardware/gardening store. There were quite a few things resembling weapons, Qyrain picked up the nearest one, which happened to be a rather large scythe. He'd always kind of wondered who needed something like that for gardening, but hey. A few hours later, there were four dead demons and a pissed off human left. Qyrain had always been fairly fit, he'd done quite a bit of Tae Kwon Do, and he'd always had the kind of pain in the *** attitude that made people really, really dislike you. It did make you quite a good insane, blase demon hunter though. It was a few weeks before he ran into his first angels, and he actually misunderstood and took a bash at them the first time he saw them. After calming down, he had his weapon imbued, and went his own way. He wasn't really interesting in hanging around with a bunch of beings who actually had some respect for religion. Weapons: Direwraith - His scythe. Not really all that enchanted, it basically just doesn't break easily, and can be etherealised at will. Spells: None whatsoever. What kind of self-respecting human needs spells?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Vichante: Well, normally, I'd probably have enough brains to agree with you, but right now I don't, so it's really an open question. I will stress the point that I'm a bad choice though. Shalistrae: And I'm much better? Vichante: I have no idea. I'd have to ask Lifé. Shalistrae: ...I somehow doubt that would be neccessary. Vichante: Oh, now I'm intrigued. [I]Shalistrae's response could be dignified by calling it a giggle. Vichante chose not to dignify it though, so it remained unanswered for quite a while.[/font][/color][/I]