The Harlequin

[color=crimson][font=gothic]OOC: Lacroix is a human, just out of curiousity. Well, he was born human. He's a mix of a hell of a lot by now. But that's history. And what the hell would Drizzt be doing in an arena? He wouldn't fight for a reason like that... [I]Lacroix wasn't overly concerned. Jumping an army into a room full of half drunk, pissed off mercenaries was a bad thing to do. And Lacroix had enough magical defenses set up that there was no way anybody could teleport within five miles of the place. So they could defend from the walls. Which were basically impregnable. And if it came down to it, he was quite confident of simply picking up his scimitars, going out there, and taking on the whole damn army by himself. Kinrade wasn't sure which way the battle would go. Lacroix had a store of siege defences, mundane and magical. Several of the gnomes offered their own expertise in technical matters, and a wizard out of Knole offered to supply blastglobes. Lacroix chuckled evilly. Now he wanted to be attacked. It wouldn't be a first, either. Several armies had laid waste to the surrounding countryside, before breaking like a tide onto the post. And like the tide, they had had no choice but to receed. Lacroix was quite willing to allow them to take their time doing it as well. Lacroix sent one of the gnomes off into the larder. He wanted to know how many years he could hold out should the situation become neccessary. He left Kinrade and Flare to discuss nasty tricks learnt in their respective gladiator arenas, while he went off to renew some connections with various creatures, from even more diverse planes. If Flare's father, or any other army, made the mistake of attacking, he'd have opened his mouth to find hell pouring down it.[/I] OOC: Yes, we will have ourselves a nice long siege to deal with. And yes, it will be a hell of a lot of fun.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'd just like to make something clear at for the end of this rpg. JC's mine... And Dave's right about why you tend to aggravate everyone Cloricus....[/color][/font]

[color=crimson][font=gothic]I tend to associate myself deeply with songs I really like, so there a quite of lot of songs that mean a lot to me. Well, as I'm sure Jesus Chicken knows oh too well, Heaven Coming Down by the Tea Party means everything to me. Also by the Tea Party would be the Messenger. And Maybe Lullaby. The other songs I'd add would be With Or Without You by U2, I listen to it every time I get depressed for some reason, Ask For Answers by Placebo, Asleep In Perfection by Augie March, of course Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls, and If You Could Only See, by Tonic. No, I'll not apologise for that last one. There are a hell of a lot more, but they're the most important.[/color][/font]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Wasn't as poxy as the last lot. Actually, it's not that bad. Another verse might have helped though. Speaking of music and such, we need to tie Dave to a tree.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Kinrade looked around in blithe amusement. As usual, his company was deserting him like rats off a burning ship that also happened to be full of water and lead. As usual, he didn't really care. He spent a good fifteen minutes longer on his own, rumbling ominously at any who came to close. After induldging in a light doze, during which he kept his hand on battle axe, he rose from the water, absently wondering exactly how it was kept hot. Not really a minotaurish concern, he thought wryly. Outside influences had changed him. Oh, to be certain, they were to the better, but Kinrade absently wondered if he would really be happy in a normal minotaur society. He donned his leather pants, ignoring the strange looks. He'd heard it mused quite often as to exactly why a minotaur wore clothing, but he did out of habit. It also allowed for hidden weapons, but that was irrelevant. He returned to the common room, mingling freely with the other patrons. They'd been completely unconcered about the killings earlier, and nobody was really willing to have the Post closed down. Kinrade talked for maybe an hour, before returning to his room. On the way in, he saw the human thief, coming down the stairs. He flushed slightly, and Kinrade sighed. He strode over, grabbed him by the neck, and pinned him to the wall, his feet dangling above it.[/I] Kinrade: Why don't you give it back? Ben: Ah...sure. Give me a moment. [I]Ben reached down into a pocket, and pulled out a small bit of folded paper. To all appearances, he accidently dropped it, but when it hit the ground, it exploded in bright light. A portable flash bomb. Instinctively, Kinrade dropped back into a guarding stance. He heard the soft sound of footsteps, as Ben bolted. A bit of shouting, a few curses, and a loud thump. When his vision cleared, Ben was lying flat out on the floor. Lacroix stood above him, still extended from a palm strike to the head. He slowly settled back into stance, smiling grimly. He bent down, and went through the thief's pockets. A threw random pouches to random customers, it seemed, but got it right every time anyway. How he knew was anyone's guess.[/I] Lacroix: Yours, Kinrade. And this would be that Azracs. Kinrade: He's not a very good thief, is he now. Lacroix: Oh, he's all right. He just made the mistake that I was actually able to be affected by minor magic. Let's see....a few minor possessions from the Icari, something that I believe belonged to the Weretiger. [I]Kinrade lifted an eyebrow. This guy was asking for trouble. Lacroix got one of the gnomes, always eager to help, to return the possessions to the various rooms, along with a stern warning to indulge in exploration later, no matter the scientific integrity at stake. The little creature sighed, but agreed. Kinrade was distracted by a dwarf behind him who wanted to know just how much a minotaur could drink. Kinrade looked down at him a moment, and took him up. A few minutes later, Kinrade returned to the bar, not in the least bit intoxicated. The dwarf was snoring loudly. Lacroix was talking quietly to another man. He looked somewhat...unsettled. His strange eyes marked him as likely vampyric, or perhaps a species of shapeshifter. Kinrade sat down beside him, and motioned for another drink.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]He's probably right. I mean, how much can a moogle really do? Get all those god damn "let go"s out of your sig now....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Fare-ish? I'd be inclined to say this would be fun if your posts had some measure of comprehendibility about them. [Edit] May as well fix this up. Name: Kattarin s'Xalerian Class: I suppose in Dnd terms, you'd call her a monk. What the hell does one call a female monk? And not in religious terms either. Race: The s'Xalerians are pretty openminded, so it's pretty varied. Notables in the bloodline include: the notorious female vampyre Geneveive Dieudonné, a few lycanthrops of various types, and a succubus. Kattarin's mostly human through, with a touch of bloodlust under stress. The dislike of sunlight could be because of that as well. It's kind of hard to tell... Alignment: Whatever the hell she feels like. Weapons: Clawed leather gauntlets. Bio: Daughter of Lacroix. Left home in typical s'Xalerian fashion, due to the fact that Lacroix was less than happy with the current politicians. However, Kattarin's mother, Geneveive, was expecting another child, so Lacroix stayed home. Kattarin is out mainly to get one John Cusack. Lacroix took somewhat of a disliking to him, due to the fact that he actually decided to side with the evil wannabe emperor. Desc. Six foot tall, long black hair, long black nails, long black clothing. You know the drill. Slender, with wiry rather than bulky muscle. Weighs only 50kg (don't care about pounds). Her forte is speed and agility rather than strength. Hair falls to shoulders, is left free. Face done up in gothic make up. Features are fair, and pale, but very, very cold. Eyes are grey, with flecks of black. Wears black pants made of some tought material, and a long sleeved shirt of the same substance. Leather bracers, worn under the shirt, and leather boots. For some reason, the boots aren't worn under the shirt though. Thus far, no one has been able to explain that phenomenon. Anyway... Wears a single ring on her left middle finger. Silver, with celtic knotwork patterns. The ring is the only distinctive marknig about her person. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Kinrade: But you enjoyed it far more... Nepenthe: Your claiming not to have? Kinrade: I don't remember mentioning that one.... Siren: Oh this one should work out just fine.... [I]Kinrade started to say something as two distinct peals of laughter broke out. He had a feeling that without resorting to a neat backhand to the face, he would be perhaps even overmatched here. The though made him give a snort of derison, a sound that most likely would have come out as a very angry sound, had not another yell from Kwasar covered it. Kinrade looked over, but didn't see anything of concern. Siren and Nepenthe were talking, ignoring him for the moment. Which worked out just fine for all concerned. He absently stretched his arms forward, twisting them slightly to relieve a small twinge in his elbow. Strangely enough, conversation broke off. Nepenthe was staring at his wrist, Siren at Nepenthe.[/I] Nepenthe: So you [I]are[/I] a cleric of Belaaz. Kinrade: As I said, no anymore. [I]Nepenthe lifted an eyebrow.[/I] Nepenthe: You escaped the Lord of Battle's grasp? Kinrade: Oh sure, I was insane for a few years, and he still attempts to possess me whenever he feels like it, but he can't control me anymore. [I]He was about to say more when Lacroix returned. He slipped into the bath, nodded to Siren and Kinrade, before turning to Nepenthe.[/I] Lacroix: So... how's your sister? [I]The was a shaky silence for quite a while. Kinrade chuckled over Nepenthe's discomfort. Lacroix did the same, before making small talk with Siren for a while. Nepenthe glared at him the entire time, saying nothing. Kinrade watched all three through slitted eyes, amused. Lacroix finished testing Nepenthe's patience, directing one last smile towards her. He got up, bowed flamboyantly, and left again, still uttering a low, metallic laugh. Nepenthe's gaze snapped to Kinrade, who leant back and let his rumbling chuckle unravel into a full bellowing laugh.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Vincent walked in, his hand reflexively darting in under his cloak to his rifle as movement started in front of him. His claw, now silver, crept up to his waist, instinctively moving into the best position for a strike. He relaxed, as it became apparent only the normal customers were around. He gave a nod, and a slight smile eclipsed by his cloak, to Tifa, which for him was the equivalent of bursting out in tears of happiness, and sought one of the quieter tables in the darker corners. As usual. His shotgun on the seat beside him, ready, he sat, watching the door. Tifa brought him a drink, only getting in a few words before she was called away again. Not that she would have stayed. She'd never really been comfortable around him. None of them had. Vincent sampled his drink, a red wine, per his taste, and thought about that for a moment. Why should they be? Then or now... The thought brought Chaos rushing back into his head. Vincent impercepibly stiffened, striken with mental agony. The demon ran through his veins, trailing wildfire. He raged, savaged at Vincent, demanding he lose control, demanding to be free, to be satiated, to be the master of this hapless mortal shell. One did not live through mulitple very nasty experiments without gaining a measure of mental strength though. And it took everything Vincent had to repulse the entity that laid a taloned claim on his soul. As it did, every other time he had been assulted. He shuddered in release, and turned his attention back to his surroundings. Just in time. Cloud and Barret were back for whatever reason, with several people he didn't recognise. Two males and a female. Probably the recruits of whatever AVALANCHE insanity Barret was proporting these days. Unlikely to be a bother. That was the thing about helping to save the world, and having it known you were a mutant freak....your desire for privacy was generally assuaged. They went to the bar, were Tifa motioned them over to his table. Vincent muttered a slight curse to himself. Without doubt, they'd attempt to sucker him into whatever problems they had. The problem, his problem that is, was that they'd probably need him.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]You know, that was probably the last thing I ever expected to hear from James.... It was also one of the scariest.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: ColourDeaf, you quite obviously didn't read the sign up thread. I didn't like your sign up, and I asked you to stay out of this. Do so.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Out of curiousity, when exactly where you planning to PM us the relevant informaton?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I don't care if you want to tell me your religion forbids or some other stupid excuse. Do not do anything stupid. You'd devestate the lot of us. I know the kind of thing you're going through, so I know how that urge creeps up on you. Raven and I are certainly here for you. And you're conveniently close to my house, so don't feel afraid to drop by any time you need to talk, or anything else. I'm deadly serious, if you want to turn up in the middle of the night because you're depressed out of your head that everything is going to hell in a handbasket around you, do it. You won't be treading new ground for me. As for getting people killed...You give me a who and a where, I'll do what I can... Really though, that's more of a joke. Killing people won't solve anything. Oh sure, it might let out some frustration, but there are far better ways to do that. I am sympathetic, very sympathetic, even if I sound like a complete wackjob saying it... But I'm sure you know that.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I, of course, have to take this character. Name: Vincent Valentine Age: No idea. Irrelevant, what not. Sex: Male Bios: Vincent has gotten over most of his inner demons. Chaos still haunts him, but his other inner creatures have been banished to a black abyss beyond Vincent's soul. He is still the solitary, vampyre like character he always was, he is now merely more at peace with himself. Chaos however, has started to realise he will never fully control Vincent's body, and has started calling in ....reinforcements. (If that isn't a problem.) Weapon: Either Death Penalty, or his shotgun, whatever it was called. Armor: Mystile. Accessory: Speed Shoes Materia: Gravity, Contain. Spell: Bolt3, Life2, Quake. Limit Breaks: (In no particular order.) 1. Chaos. (same as the game, etc) 2. Oblivion - (A drider. For the uneducated among us; a kind of spider, centaur cross. About seven feet high at the shoulder. Chitinous legs. Smooth, black abdomen. Dead, sickly white human torso and head. Etc. 3. Quietus - (a hulking armoured and helmed figure. Black gothic plate armour, dragonwing helm. Spiked war gauntlets, carries a huge maul. Not environmentally friendly...) [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]It was an ironic joke Mnemolth. And don't call me dude..... I was looking at it more as calm acceptance, and the knowledge that permanence takes precedence over something more showy. A quiet dignity if you will.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'll trust you to take that somewhere, other than just the "out to see the world thing". Other than that, that's fine.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Kinrade sighed, and picked two of the bodies up, throwing one of them to the long suffering halfbreed who had already come to collect them. He looked reprovingly down at Nepenthe.[/I] Kwasar: Watch yourself. Lacroix doens't like more than three accidental deaths a day, based on the number we have here. [I]Kinrade picked up the other body, grunting slightly as he did so. The bastard was fat.[/I] Kinrade: What about bar brawls? Kwasar: What? Oh.... No, those three deaths are just for the bath house. The taproom doesn't have a limit. Kinrade: Perhaps you should retire there Nepenthe. [I]She didn't reply as the two bulky beings threw out the wounded, dying men. Kinrade returned to the pool of water Nepenthe occupied, Kwasar to his post.[/I] Kinrade: Well, since I seem to have attracted the attention of a nasty group of people, I believe I'll stay in a public area for the moment. Nepenthe: The though of assassins worries you? [I]Kinrade looked offended for a moment before replying.[/I] Kinrade: I'm a minotaur. Do you have idea how hard it is to look over your shoulder? Without looking straight over the head of the creature behind you with the knife? [I]Nepenthe responded with a soft burst of laughter. Kinrade settled into the water, communing with Nepenthe in companionable silence. Another being entered the water, but he didn't look up to see who.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Two things... one, to Raiha - I'm a minotaur. A female Laporin's nudity wouldn't concern me. And you couldn't see me blush anyway... Secondly, to Etarah's Maverick. - Kill Lacroix, in a bar fight? Not bloodly likely. Lacroix might be retired, but the old bastard isn't infirm yet. Unfortunately... IC:[I]Kinrade sat up slightly, stifling a yawn. He let his gaze rest on the being before him, as unconcered with propriety as she.[/I] Kinrade: Leaving so soon? Nepenthe: Duty calls. [I]Kinrade closed his eyes, and touched his fingers to his forehead, before waving them off in an ironic salute. Nepenthe walked away. From what Kinrade heard, it seemed she had had to hit another unfortunate male. Not surprising. She was attractive by their standards he supposed. But then, he didn't really find anything attractive. Not even minotaur females. Who could.... There was another slight movement in the water, almost indiscernable. Kinrade opened his eyes again. Lacroix sat across from him this time. Water glistened over his pale skin, highlighting a host of scars. Lacroix noted Kinrade's professional glance, and chuckled slightly.[/I] Lacroix: Remnants of a misspent youth. Kinrade: I was under the impression you loved the adventuring life. Lacroix: Oh I do. It was just a bit more tedious before I realised I didn't have to get cut if I didn't want to. After that, I stopped receiving wounds for some reason... Kinrade: I'm not sure I understand that. Who's watching the bar? [I]Unfazed at the sudden turn in conversation, Lacroix replied with a slight smile.[/I] Lacroix: The threat of mutually assured destruction. Kinrade: That makes uncanny sense.... Lacroix: Beautiful, isn't it. I've got more than enough good dwarven ale, and even a large stock of Dark Elven Faerie spirits to last everyone there several lifetimes, and I'm not doing this for the profit. Besides, a troop of mercenaries from up north just floated in, and let everyone know they were too tired to fight. Things quietened down quite a bit when the leader knocked down a dwarven battlerager with his fist. Kinrade: They say what they were looking for? Lacroix: You. [I]Kinrade shot upright, eyes wide. His hands groped for his ornate, deadly battle axe, left in Lacroix's room. Lacroix lazily reached over his shoulder and pulled it out of a rucksack. It was a large weapon, but not a heavy one, and Kinrade could wield it one handed with no difficulty. The handle was a mere four feet long. The blades were curved, and tapered to long points at the bottom, as if they were scythes. Strangely, no point of spearhead adorned the area on the end of the haft. Lacroix hefted the weapon a few times, and stood up. Even hip deep in water, holding a battle axe, he still managed to move the thing with blinding speed. Conversation dropped off inside the bathhouse. Everybody stared with awed silence. Lacroix finished his kata, and handed the blade to Kinrade. The minotaur stared at it for a second. It seemed as if the axe possessed a cold fire, given by Lacroix's touch. The feeling faded away instantly, leaving him bewildered. Lacroix looked around, and bowed slightly.[/I] Lacroix: Now that, people, is why you don't try to tear up this inn beyond what I let you. [I]He sat back down, and looked at Kinrade, deadly serious.[/I] Lacroix: I'm familar with this troop, and I know you wouldn't be on the wrong side of them for doing the wrong thing. And as soon as they get not so tired, they'll probably kill several people while trying to get what they want. Kinrade: You want me to leave? Lacroix: No, I want you to give me a hand. [I]Lacroix reached back in to the rucksack, and drew his twin scimitars out. They glew with a cold fire, one identical to what Kinrade had felt. Residual, most likely. Lacroix continued speaking, his voice low and deadly.[/i] Lacroix: They're all sleeping in the common room. There a large gap around them. Currently, everyobdy is less than happy with them, and many know their reputation as oathbreaking killers. Chances are, we'll have more than a few allies. [I]Kinrade's head reeled. Lacroix was suggesting mass murder, to the possible cost of his inn, to help him. Kinrade rose, and replaced the black leather trousers he wore. He swung the battle axe a few times, limbering up. They rose and left, grim faced. The entered common room with steel flying. Kinrade barrelled in to the mercenary he first encountered, hitting him with his shoulder, before whipping his head across. His horn slit the man's throat wide open. Kinrade rose and spun, a backhanded strike taking out a second merc. He followed through, and kicked out backwards, dropping a third to the floor. Just parrying a lightning fast strike form another, he shoved the man back into the one he had winded. The two tumbled, and the axe fell twice before they could get up. Kinrade looked around, wary. Lacroix was standing, unconcerned. Twelve bodies lay strewn around him. There was a moment of silence, as the entire taproom stared at him, before someone started clapping. In seconds, a spontaneous round of applause was echoing through the room. Lacroix bowed, and jumped bakc behind the bar. Left in a circle of scrutiny, Kinrade shuffled out, seeking privacy back at the bathhouse for the moment. He would acknowledge his debt to Lacroix later.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Kinrade placed his hands on the sides of the pool, shooting himself upwards in a surprisingly graceful motion. He walked past the Laporian, picked up the human, and threw him outside. About twenty metres outside.... He turned, and walked back into the pool. Ducking his head under the steaming water, and cursing in a froth of bubbles as his horns quivered slightly in the heat, he ignored the Laporian for a moment. The slight movement of water somehow didn't surprise him. He looked up. The female had slipped in opposite to him, showing no concern over the heat. On the other side of the bathhouse, it seemed to Kinrade that Ben and Flare were arguing again. Kwasar was standing beside them, keeping things in hand. His glance flicked over to Kinrade, and the frost giant spawned ogre inclined his head to Kinrade for the help. Kinrade let his gaze settle back on the being across from him, who now appeared to be enjoying herself somewhat. Females were like that, in his experience.[/I] Kinrade: Kinrade Riftsbane. Former cleric of Belaaz, former pit champion, and former captain of the Horned Wrath, a cutter out of Wraspith. Nepenthe: Nepenthe Sevenstar. [I]The minotaur waited a moment, but didn't get anymore. Respecting the apparent desire for silence as a reflection of his own, he lay back, and folded his arms behind his head.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Here we go then.... [I]Kinrade awoke, in the small, but uncramped room. He sat up sharply, momentarily unsure of his surroundings, before subsiding in rememberance and pain. Events crashed back in on him, last night's encounters, Lacroix, the insane gnomes, the people clustered around him in mild curiousity. The Post sounded quiet. Based on what he had heard of the place, if you could hear yourself think, it was a slow day. Today seemed to be a slow day. Kinrade had to force himself to get up. Every movement was an effort. He ached all over, a dull throbbing that seemed to echo through his bones. He stood up, slowly, but staggered nonetheless. He examined the room, searching for a something reflective. A floor to ceiling mirror was mounted in one corner. Kinrade awkwardly made his way over to it, and examined his ragged body. He had no visible wounds, and nothing looked broken. Except maybe his ribs, but they were a mere inconvenience. He drew a deep breath, feeling it hitch slightly inside him. Not broken, but badly bruised. There were two doors to Lacroix's room. The front door, which led to behind the bar, and another, previously un-noticed. Kinrade let himself out this door, finding a path to the bathhouse. Kinrade approved of that. Very rarely did one find a clean minotaur, but time spent with nobles had given him an appreciation of the amenities of civilisation. The bath house was as raucous as the taproom, just probably due to different reasons. Lacroix, unable to be bothered building two seperate buildings, allowed males and females to bathe together indiscriminately. This occasionally led to trouble, but Kwasar, the huge half ogre, half frost giant guard tended to settle things down without any trouble. By the sounds of it, he soon be stirring to kick a few bodies out the door. Kinrade reached the door, and opened it cautiously. As he did so, a body flew into out the door. Kinrade's hands shot up, catching the body of what appeared to be a human. His huge frame was barely jolted by the impact. Kinrade looked past, unwilling to get involved in another's troubles. What appeared to be a weretiger stood just inside, panting angrily. Kinrade looked back down to the human, who looked up with sparkling amusement in his eyes.[/I] "The problem with weretigers is that they don't have pockets. The name's Ben. Drakenmoor." [I]Kinrade set him down, and stepped forward.[/I] Kinrade: And you would be? Weretiger: You may call me Flare Kenrilon. Kinrade: I [I]may[/i] call you anything I'd like. I asked who you were. Flare Kenrilon: As I said. Kinrade: Let me guess, he tried to steal something from you. Flare: Yes. Kinrade: Okay, just making sure I understood the circumstances. That done... [I]Kinrade sidestepped the weretiger and walked further into the bathhouse. Finding an empty pool, he settled his large frame into the steaming water, and cleaned his harsh fur off with a stiff brush. After about a qaurter of an hour, he lay back, drifting into darkness. Kwasar yelled something, there was the sound of a few large thumps, a high pitched female yell of annoyance. Kinrade ignored them.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Yeah, the etherealism is fine. If it gets in the way though, I'll throw something in to counter it. And if you try and "eat" anyone important....heads will roll. This starts quite soon, to my knowledge anyway. Apologies to ColourDeaf and Jedah, you're sign-ups didn't make it. Nothing overtly wrong with them, and I'm not cutting you out just because you're newbies, I just didn't like them. Everyone else-remember, own plotlines. Essential. Especially you Jack.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Lack of something more appropriate has led me to fall back on this.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I would have interpreted it more as resignation then jealousy. There wasn't enough of a hard edge to it for that. But then, I wouldn't dare contradict the great Mnemolth, [I]intelligentsia extraordinaire[/I]....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Perhaps it's because I'm uglier? Ever considered that.... Raven has this strange habit of disagreeing though. Then says that other people she knows agree with her, without giving out names.... But I'm certain that's just a hoax. There were seven posts because you were too lazy to dig it up yourself, and wanted me to send you a link to it. And you took your sweet time with it anyway.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]What's your point? My father (when he's not being a nut) does music reviews for the local newspaper. We get a hell of a lot of stuff weeks before its released. Let's face it, everyone can if they try.[/font][/color]