The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Just as a sidenote, this is [u]not[/u] the same forest mentioned above. I'm nowhere near anyone else at this time, so don't "accidently" run into me. IC: [I]Rali alighted easily, splaying all four arms, in some hideous net, and catching the inner branches of a huge, twisted oak tree. Unlike most trees of their genus, the ones in this forest were not majestic giants. They were large, certainly, but they gave off a feeling of decay, of withered roots and gnarled hearts. Rali swung upwards, and arranged himself easily on one limb, more than a foot wide at the base. He looked around the forest, what he could see through the leaves anyway, and found almost no signs of human habitation. A scraped tree, a beaten path through the underbrush, too obvious to be animal. His vision refocused onto the leaves in front of him, and he gave a start. They were rotting. Still on the tree, yet eaten away by festering decay. He leapt down, eyeing the trees around him warily. If there was some bizarre disease afflicting this forest, any of those huge masses of wood could collapse at any time. He stalked deeper inside the enveloping swath of trees, fairly certain that whatever was up, it was bound to be more interesting than walking somewhere else.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Depending on what response you give, this may do. Name: Rali Kreigyr Age: 21 Description: Six foot tall, slender as a rake, without looking emaciated. Shoulder length thin raven hair. Facial features are fair, but very very cold. Eyes are grey. Tends to wear a pair of black cotton jeans, a a long sleeved black shirt. Black combat boots. Personality: Morbid, introverted, with a very ironic sense of humour. Tends to keep to himself, but can fit into any environment he likes when he chooses to speak. Very independant, and doesn't suffer fools very well. Intelligent, but doesn't show it. History: Currently a uni, studying biochemistry. Family is basically unremarkable, asiding the fact that his mother died when he was young. Vehicle: Doesn't have the money for one, tends to walk everywhere. Anything else of note: 2nd degree blackbelt at Taekwon-do You know...looking at that, that is somewhat like what I'll be at Uni. In fact, that's exactly what I'll be like. Sweet...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I was going to say something about Cloricus's post, but then I read that last line....Ah, poetic justice, coming from Cloricus. Once again, we have proved the existance of irony... Anyway...Revenge for me depends on the original circumstances. Things like the hicks at school, for example, are easily revenged on. Basically, you sit back, and think that come the 10 year reunion, you're going to be driving a great car, living in a great house, making a hell of a lot of money, completely satisfied, while they're going to walk in from the farm with a two year old shirt on, shitkickers, and a pair of jeans so torn and muddy they couldn't be used for a rag. And it'll be the best they've got. They'll be able to speak cow better than human, and their IQ will have decreased exponentially. Most amusing. But in other circumstances...I do believe there is a satisfying feeling involved when the other person realises that everything has just come crashing down around them. To me though, it's just a game. One with occasionally nasty consequences, but a game never the less. Like what Raven and Butterfly are gonna get when I'm through with them...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali watched as the huge teeth clashed in front of the opening. for the first time, he contemplated leaping into that welcoming embrace. To allow himself the pain, the agony....the release. The freedom. The oblivion... As always, the pros outweighed the cons. He simply couldn't be bothered. Besides....giving the drake the satisfaction of winning went against his grain. The maw subsided away, turning into a huge, reptilian eye. Rali waved laconically, and the eye too disappeared. He waited until he heard the huge splash before rising. Once before, he had flown out, to find the drake three feet below him. A very close call. He rose to the top of the cavern again, watching the drake leap for him. It was a game they had played many times. One that the drake had come close to winning several times. Rali wondered how he ever won. Surely, evasion didn't count. It was still a losing proposition. He smiled suddenly, and turned on a tangent, flying towards another large gap in the rock. Flying through, he ended up in a slow moving lava stream. His body twisted through, the lack of bones making it easy for him to contort into any position neccessary. He ended up in another large cavern, nearly identical to the first. But this one was open. He floated in the middle of a volcano. He rocketed upwards, gaining as much height off the thermals as he could before gliding down the steep slope, landing in one of the forests that seemed to always surround volcanoes.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali lay silent and still a while. Around him, the wind swept passed him in silver whispers. Carrying the scent of furs. Vikings, no doubt. He slowly rose, looking around warily. All around him, large men with huge beards stood watching him, impassive. One, older than the rest, and more dignified, stepped forward. He looked at Rali tentively, then reached out. Before Rali realised what he was doing, he had removed the glasses. Scars. That's all they saw. Two vertical scars, one running down each eye. Like a scarecrow. Which was what someone had called him a while back. Which had lead to a death.... Which had lead to him being here.... Rather than aversion, or amusement, the man's expression, as much as Rali could tell through the helmet and beard, which probably started just below the eyebrows, was one of awe. The man turned, and shouted triumphantly. It was a second or so before Rali translated what he said, so shocked was he.[/I] "The oracles speak true. Odin comes among us. Ragnarok is at hand." [I]Oh ****.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]As opposed to possible pay check for being a top level military research scientist....Bite me baby. About the Archimedes thing though, it may not look like it has anything to do with computers as we envision them, but when applied to what a computer by definition is, then really, he started the whole thing. Damn smart bastard....Too much time on his hands. Just like the modern day tech.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Well, as Queen's Jester, I would say it would be appropriate for me to turn up. Besides, all the rpgs I'm in now are too serious. Name: Mini-Harlequin Alleigance: Queen, but, as a jester, my sense of humour sometimes lets things get out of hand in unforeseen ways. Weapon: Known to whack people in the eyes with the bells on his hat when cornered. Also carries a jester stick. You know, one of those foot long sticks with swirly colours that they twirl around a lot. Magic: Mini-Harlequin sometimes uses magic, but it tends to have strange effects. He can't control it. It does make things fun though. Description: Think your average jester. You know, the crazy hat, garments, and pointed boots. Half green, half red. Face painted white, boots black. Bio: Member of Miss Queen's court. Main purpose in life is pleasing that court. Secondary purpose in life is proving that he is better at it than Mini-Minstrel plushie (Mitch), because Mini-Minstrel isn't good enough at flowerly language.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Actually, to you all, Archimedes was doing things that technically were primitive computers. Personally, I think modern computers have a lot to answer for. Primarily Cloricus.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali drifted aimlessly, the membranous muscles in his wings easily holding rigid over the thermals. The cavern seemed to shrink away from him on all sides, asiding the lava down in the bowels. The bowels of the cavern, the bowels of the earth. The deeps, where no surface race had ever touched. Deities, angels, wars, nothing mattered down here. You were one with the few races that did live here, against that horrors that also made this place their home. A huge fire drake, longer than any such beast on the surface had been for millenia, arced out of the pit of molten rock, falling back in with a huge splash. The thick, viscous lava splashing nevertheless. Rali made no move to avoid it. A single drop landed on one of his outstretched arms. He looked at incuriously, then flicked it off. It didn't leave a mark. Rali could have swam through the sizzling pool below him with the same impunity. He sighed slightly, and glided downwards, in a sharp spiral to the ledge were he currently made his home. It was convenient, given its location. More like a horizontal slit in the rock, it could only be reached by a winged creature, and one willing to tempt a fire drake's, or [/I]bretzattu's[I] as his race called them, wrath. Not a prospect many enjoyed. Bu this drake had quite early on found that its massive head was not large enough to fit through the opening in the rock, and that its fire did not hurt its inhabitant. Rali was six feet tall. He walked in with nearly a foot to spare. He smiled grimly, the expression invisible on his midnight face, and wondered how the Lightdwellers would feel faced by such a creature. And that was one of the lesser drakes. And drakes were by no means the top of the food chain. Subterranean passages, some open, some filled with molten rock by some bizarre phenomenon, riddled this area. Most of the Underworld actually. Rali didn't really understand how the filled ones didn't melt the rock around them, but he didn't care. It made for fast movement, provided you knew where you were going. He kicked a two foot long crab away from his bed roll, out in the lava. A mere tidbit for the drake. He wondered how the creature had gotten here. The creature, he realised, was a parasite. It lived on the drake's scales. It must have dropped off at some point when the drake had been looking for a meal. Rali lay down, wondering what else could conceivably be carried up here. He made another scratch on the wall. That made 148 now. And that was just since reaching this haven. Exile grew tedious.[/font][/color][/I]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by cloricus [/i] [B]I'll keep who I want to meet to myself but will ask this. Wrist Cutter, which god? [/B][/QUOTE] [font=gothic][color=crimson]Me of course. Everyone knows I am God. All of them! Or something.... Jack, I could have made that post for you... Now, on to the point. My list would be; Jeff Martins: Singer/guitarist for the Tea Party, because he is the coolest guy alive. Tuomas Holopainen (Coolest name I've ever heard): Pianist from Nightwish, because I like his attitudes to life, not to mention his lyrics. Brian Molko: Singer from Placebo, I want to see whether he is actually remotely male. Brandon Lee: Because I'm such a Crow fan. Can't quite remember the name, but the bass player from RHCP, so he can show me some of that funky **** he does. He's too damn good.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Name: Rali Kreigyr Age: 19 Description: Six foot tall, and slender as a rake, for good reason. Wasted body weighs about 110 pounds. Rali is by no means muscular, but what is there is outlined like stone. And about as hard. The fat percentage in his body is probably less than 5. Long, raven hair, that falls about to his shoulders, and is normally worn free. Dark black eye makeup and lipstick, rest of the face is grey. Facial features themselves could be considered handsome, but very, very cold. Eyes are grey, with black flecks. Also has some very strange eye piercings. He has where a normal eyebrow piercing exists pierced, but also the area directly below it, on the lower edge of the eye socket, on both sides. Wears tribal looking designs, made of blackened metal, through the holes. A certain blackening around the skin shows they were at one time infected. Wears black cotton jeans, and a long black shirt. The shirt is somewhat of a uniquely tailored object, as the sleeves extend all the way to the hand, with five openings at the end for fingers. Over his hand are also black fingerless leather gloves, closely resembling sparring gloves. His left hand is adorned with a simple silver ring, with a Celtic knotwork style design on it. Light, but sturdy black boots, hard tipped. Personality: Rali is, mentally and physically, a wreck. He was born in Silent Hill, attended primary school to an acceptable, if not great, standard, before falling in with the wrong crowd during highschool. Rali spent the next few years in a haze of alcohol, drugs, gangs and assorted crime. Anything from cocaine to heroin to LSD, he's done it. And is already a ruined, sick wreck from it. When he turned eighteen, he forced himself off his various addictions by sheer willpower, after a friend died. Rali's mind is almost completely blown, and he tends to act on instinct rather than any rationale. Rali isn't really anything but a drug addicted teenager who learnt to fight on the streets, but whoever taught him, whether it was harsh experience or someone else, gave him a pretty good education. Rather than any specific martial art, Rali relies on speed and sheer brutality. One of the many hauntings memories Rali has is ripping someone's jugular out with his teeth... He isn't much use in any situation except one requiring someone with a completely wrecked or, in what is left of it, warped mind. Rali's yet to find anything requiring that kind of unique talent...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Just a note on the disease comment. There is quite probably several diseases lying dormant that are quite capable of doing that. But despite that, this is a more effective method. Simply because a disease can too easily run rampant. That 4 out of 10 could too quickly become 8 out of ten, if not higher, so nature builds up immunities. The Bubonic Plague decimated Europe, but these days, an outbreak of that magnitude would be unheard of. (I'm only talking about the Bubonic Plague here, not all diseases) Uncontrollable factors is something nature doesn't like. So it doesn't let them affect if possible. That theory is generally accepted, anyway. Chances are, the most effective method would be an earlier death rate. Actually, we're meant to die a lot earlier than we do. We just went and slapped nature in the face. God bless the Crash Test Dummies...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Rali: Well, at least sheep can contain surprises. Shalistrae: And spider's can't? Rali: Oh, you know you're going to get manipulated and basically screwed over when dealing with arachnids. It's a refreshing change when your average sheep pulls off the same trick. Shalistrae: And have they? Rali: You're still here, aren't you? And I'm still here. Shalistrae: That's because the only way a sheep can get out of a tree is by falling. Rali: [I]You[/I] could try being nicer.... [I]Shalistrae smiled serenely.[/I] Shalistrae: ...when you try being smarter. [I]Rali threw back his head in a torrent of rakish laughter.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Startlet lay in the thicket, her clothes and skin rent by briars. The creature, whatever it was, snuffled around, but seemed unable to smell her. No small surprise, considering she had been on the road for a week. The world so different, so dangerous. So intoxicating. She had made no audible sounds of wonder, but it had resounded through her soul. And of course, other things had resounded around her. Mainly large, scary roars. This was one of the owners of that huge echoing boom. She didn't know what it was. She'd never really been out in the world before. And she had never run into anything like this. It stalked away, grunting to itself. She sighed, and started shuddering. Half in fear, half in the comedown off adrenalin. She waited for nearly half an hour, terrified by the idea that the creature was lying in wait. At last she got up, and set off again. There had been sounds carrying from over the next ridge, human sounds. She started to run, and as she topped the rise, countless houses were suddenly layed out in front of her. A city. Civilisation. Safety. Other people. Damn them all...[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'm only currently playing Bass. A Yamaha, pretty nice, I'll get something better soon. I've taken up electric three times though, at my father's urging. (My father was serious though, and has played lead guitar for more than 30 years, and he is damn good.) My father's got a Les Paul and a Flying V, a fairly decent Fender, and 11 other guitars. And nearly as many keyboards. And no-one knows why...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Battle scenes are always interesting. You know that. IC: [I]Rali leapt again, turning in the air. He sidekicked another drake in the left eye with a right sidekick, before continuing the spin, over the drake's head, and as he was facing fully away, thrust his left leg straight back, breaking the rider's collarbone just where it joined the ribs. The man choked and fell, as Rali landed on the drake's back. Jumping double 360° kick...Hell yeah. (OOC: I can do that! As of tonight...) The drake roared, and spat fire, its sinuous neck spinning around to face him. The mouth opened again, fire swirling up the back of the throat. Rali smiled grimly, preparing to get singed in what had to be the craziest idea he'd had so far. As the drake's mouth fully opened, he leapt off its back, onto its head. His feet were suddenly filled with searing pain, but he managed to hit the beast's head hard. The head was forced downwards by the sudden weight, and the front two fangs stuck into its own torso. Rali leapt down, his legs from the knees down feeling like they were on fire. He collapsed, and took advantage of it. The drake flailed around, but couldn't free its head. Rali lay back, resting until the end of the fight.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Here we go again. Name: Rali Kreigyr Age: 23 Race: Lythanoid (Yes, I will explain for those who don't know) Weapons: Normally hand to hand, due to certain physical advantages he has. Carries two ataghans though. Basically, they are a dagger shaped like a scimitar. Spells: None, except for a certain natural control of his internal temperature. Appearance/Bio (All explained here): A lythanoid is a demon-like creature raised in the bowels of the earth. Six foot tall, but incredibly slender. Bat-like wings, with four arms, each tipped with a set of four claws. The reptillian head is set on an abnormally flexible neck. In fact, a lythanoid's entire body is abnormally flexible. This is because lythanoid's possess no bone structure at all. Instead, the possess specialised muscles, incredibly hard, yet still supple. Thus, while lythanoid's possess the obvious advantages of having no bones, they are unfortunately vulnerable to any piercing kind of damage. If these specialised muscles, called [I]scyeiphs[/I] in the lythanoid's native tongue, are severed, the relevant portion of anatomy seizes up, becoming completely immobile. The scyeiphs however also make lythanoids physically powerful. When a lythanoid dies, the normal procedure is the complete decay of the body, leaving no trace whatsoever. Certain alchemists, mages, and athe usual lot of insane scientists have considered the lythanoid's unusual body structure a matter of interest, and have attempted to study them. Lythanoid's being somewhat adverse to this, the normal recourse is to kill the specimen. This however, leads to a limited time for study. So, a certain alchemist, by the name of Vi Duku, came up with an idea. He captured several lythanoids, and attempted to suck the life out of all of them. He reasoned that, in undeath, and thus domination, the body would not only remain intact, it would also be bidable. To do this, and avoid the slow decay that afflicted the normal zombie, he had each lythanoid bitten by a vampyre. His premise however, was somewhat flawed. The lythanoid religion is one of darkness. A race of nyctophiles. When a lythanoid dies, the spiritual process is one of return to darkness. They become shadows. Normal, inert, unliving shadows. In the Unlife however, the shadow is alive. And three dimensional. And aware. And less than happy... Vi Duku assumed he would be able to control Rali with an array of necromatic focuses. His pet vampyre however, intervened. Killing Vi Duku, the vampyre sought his chance to escape. Rali never heard from him again. Rali attempted to return to his people, but was shunned because of his undead curse. So he wanders the earth, basically doing whatever the hell he feels like. Due to the fact that lythanoids are subterranean creatures, and quite often found in volcanoes, they have an extraordinarily high internal temperature. In fact, lythanoid hunters have been summarily seared to death by spilled blood. Lythanoid's are also able to control that internal heat, to the point of heating up even their taloned fingers to the point where a single touch permanently scars.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali looked around, wary as a fox. There were only em, but two of them were holding knives, and a third had a dangerous glint in his eye. The last was merely big. It had started innocently enough. The nightclub had been his kind of place, and he'd enjoyed it. Thin lashes now traced over his skin, put there by a thornbush. The sensation was...exhilarating. Unfortunately, other people didn't think so. The dangerous looking man had asked him if he was a queer. Rali had turned, and coldly said he had no idea what he was talking about. There were countless people enjoying various forms of pain and pleasure around him, why should he be any difference. The man laughed, just as coldly, and his friends had joined him. Rali had turned around fully, and folded his arms, baring teeth. The man had made some smart comment about animals. Rali had simply licked his teeth, almost seductively. The four had looked at each other, grinned, and spread out. Now they looked at him, waiting for a sign to move. Rali didn't give them one. He took a bound forward, slightly to the left. As his foot hit the ground, he pushed off right, a leaping sidekick slashing out to strike one of the knife wielders. The move in the opposite direction had completely thrown him off. As Rali landed, he spun, faster than the second knifeman could match, the ball of his foot knocking him out. He hooked his heel back, striking the big man in the shoulder, numbing his arm. He dropped his leg in the same motion, and punched him in the throat, before midsection punching him in the solar plexus. His hands, pistoning back and forth, lined up, and the left struck his sternum, the right striking his throat again. The man gurgled and fell away. Which left the last of them. Rali dropped into a fighting stance, left arm forward. He jabbed with the left arm, stepping forward. His right arm came across in a hook, which, as it completed, snapped back into a backhand. He followed the motion with a left hook, spun with it, coming around with a right backhand. Stepping forward with his left foot, he punched him in the stomach, stepped forward into horse-riding stance, his right foot striking the man in the nose. The nosebone ended up somewhere in the middle of his brain. Another man stepped up, looking at Rali angrily. Rali, facing him in a wide stance, couldn't move back, so he leapt up, kicking him in under the chin. As his right leg came down, he grabbed the man's hair, bringing his head down sharply onto his left knee. The man groaned, staying doubled over. Rali stepped back, and levelled a field kick to his head. The man stumbled away, nose splattering across his face, but stayed upright. He stepped forward with a right hook. Rali blocked with his left, and slammed his right arm over, into the man's elbow. His arm suddenly bent, the man had no chance to react as Rali snapped his arm upwards into a backhand. As it came back to his shoulder, he slammed it forward. The ridge of his palm struck the man's solar plexus. As he stumbled back, gasping, Rali spun. His heel took the man's head, snapping his neck. Rali fell into stance. The man just fell down. He looked around. A crowd had gathered silent.[/I] Rali: Well? Anyone else want to try and kill me? [I]There was another moment's silence, before a spontaneous round of applause. Rali looked around, shocked, before smiling widely, and bowing like a courtier.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali read impatiently, everything fit perfectly. He threw it down in disgust.[/I] Rali: Next question. And think carefully, you wouldn't want to bungle this one. Why...am...I...dead? [I]The man looked uncomfortable for a second, before a hardening around his eyes caused Rali to narrow his.[/i] "Because you're too dangerous to leave alive. You've no scruples that we're aware of, and too fiendishly chaotic to allow loose. Let go, with the secrets about this place you hold, you could be picked up by any faction. And quite likely, you'd give them information willingly. Rali: So, doesn't that leave you with a quandry. "Not really. You see, people are lost at times. On missions. Especially ones such as this. You know fo the Norse, don't you?" Rali: I won't be very effective surrounded by brawny Vikings wearing furs and waving battleaxes... "You don't have to be. You just have to be out of the way." Rali: And how do you intend to do this? "There are nine people asiding you in this room." [I]Rali grinned ferally, almost insanely.[/I] Rali: You loose some. Nastily. "Perhaps." [I]With that word, the men behind him leapt into action. Rali ducked away, kicked back and taking one in the stomach. He rose upwards, the man's head in line with his hip, and brought his elbow down on his neck. As he fell, Rali spun back to face the rest of them, backhanding a second in the face. Leaping, he kicked him under the chin with one foot, landing on his kneecap in the other. The man fell before Rali's first foot did, and got his neck broken with the follow up axe. The five remaining were in no hurry. They were also unimaginative. Rali leapt over the falling man, kneeing a third in the head. His hands shot out, a double punch to the eyes. He grabbed and twisted. Another broken neck, another loud snap. There, Rali's luck changed. The man fell forward, pushed by his companions. His weight bore Rali down, and he fell, swearing viciously. His legs trapped, he had trouble avoiding the kicks now levelled at his head. He managed to break another kneecap, and strike another man in the groin, but the kicks kept coming. One made the mistake of dropping down, grabbing Rali by the hair. Rali seized the chance, and struck out sharply with a spearthrust to the throat. The man gurgled, and received another knifehand strike, crushing his windpipe. At last, the man behind the desk came around, and kicked Rali in the temple.... When he woke up, he was bitterly cold, lying in the snow. Alone. He looked around, recognising ancient Scandinavia.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Seems so. God damn it, I was hoping there was a larger concentrated army out there to rival us... Ahem. Liam, you get all religious on me and I'll bust that crook in your ***... As for fudg-ems, or whatever you call them. As the only Australian Otaku in my little area that has been to American...when it comes to junk/snack food....they got nothing on us. I am deadly serious, you'd be lucky to get half the selection. Which is why Australia has a higher percentage of obesity....*Cough* Enigma....*Cough.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Personally, I'm surprised how many people here just say "It's not so bad", when obviously it is. The thing is, it's not how bad it is, it's how it affects people, which makes it bad. So to speak. I know exactly what you mean. My grades are ****, I can't bring myself to study, Raven and I fight constantly, but still love each other at least, my father is a godforsaken control freak to the nth degree, and I'm going deaf in one ear. I feel for you man. Everything is pressure these days. Everything. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Yeah! Now we're getting somewhere! [I]Rali ducked under a pair of raking foreclaws. As the they passed over his head, he reached upwards, and leapt in the opposite direction. With a loud crack, they snapped. The drake foundered, screaming reptilian anger. Rali leapt up, grabbing the rider and hurling him from his saddle. He stood, and took to the air again. His legs snaked out and curled around another rider's neck. He fell from his beast, and died with a loud crack as Rali and he rolled along the ground. The riderless drakes, now free of influence immediately turned on each other for dominance. Rali rolled to his feet off the same motion that had launched off the beast, and struck another in the chest. The blow didn't seem to injure the creature, but it backed away as Rali struck a quick succession of blows, finishing with a double punch to the eyes. The creature reared, and fell. Rali tossed his hair out of his eyes, and laughed manically.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Right now I'm rushed for time, so I'll edit this next time I get on with a storyline facet, but for now, let me just mention exactly why this thing didn't work immediately. The best way to start an rpg is with everybody together. Otherwise, every post has to be pure storyline. And we're all unsure of the storyline at the current time, so it because difficult. When you have five other people in the room with you, you can just filler post with conversation until the story comes along. Just a little tip. I learnt my lesson a while back; stick to other people's rpgs. Mine never work out. So don't feel bad. We all get it.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'd just like to point out that it really doesn't matter whether you've got say, 50 nuclear warheads, or 100. Either way, the person you're firing them at is screwed. America may have the most bombs in the world, but given a preemptive strike, what good is it going to do them?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]If I found out how the rest of my life was going to do, the first thing that would happen would be me bursting out into laughter at all the stupid **** I'm going to do over the next few years. But anyway...You ever get that sense that you're not really living your life? You're just in the back of your own head, while something else walks around and speaks for you? This really bizarre detachment? I think I'd be like that all the time, rather than just half the time. Death doesn't worry me. Living in a gutter the rest of my life doesn't worry me. Becoming a politician doesn't faze me. Becoming a drug-addicted loser with an early death due to an O.D. wouldn't surprise me. I take everything as it comes. And according to Raven, it's infuriating...[/font][/color]