The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I like that. We all like Lestat. Out of curiousity though, do you Magnus, not Marius?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]It's not even a best of collection. It's just a few of their songs stuck together though. There was no real reason for it, except that they probably didn't want to release You Know You're Right as a single.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'm not really sure I understand how the word "exclusive" fits in here. If you had said something along the lines of stringent, I would have understood. But I don't think exclusive really works in this situation. We're not really requiring them to do anything special or anything like that, just something that they were meant to have done in the first place.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Just a point of interest. Their 'new' album isn't anything special compared to a lot of their earlier ones.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Unless it was when I was younger then 10, the part of my life I can't remember anymore, then I haven't. I'm an atheistic existentialist. Freedom, and thus responsiblity is important to me, so I deal with my own problems. I dealt with my insanity, my depression, and my mother's death on my own, I certainly didn't need any god figure, christian or otherwise to help me, and they've been the only serious problems in my life. Ask my family. My prediliction for taking care of myself drives them crazy....lol.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]As Valeigh and Rico left, Harlequin turned to Spyder, an amused look of his face.[/I] Harlequin: You seemed eager to get them out of here. Spyder: I want another bath. [I]Harlequin sighed, laughed, and laughed again as Spyder cursed and walked back into the bathroom. Running water was quickly heard. Harlequin sighed, and assumed a typical ready stance. His right foot dropped out into ready stance, and followed with a mid section punch with both fists, slowly. His stance reversed, and he followed with a twin knifehand strike, just as slowly. He dropped back into a guarding stance, performing a slow mid section block. From there, he was a blur of movement as the next 52 movements flowed in fluid succession. In less than 5 minutes, he returned to ready stance, breathing even. From the bathroom, Spyder called out.[/I] Spyder: Tong Il? Six dan? [I]Harlequin turned, bowing.[/i] Harlequin: Yeah, a favourite of mine. [I]Harlequin walked over, leaning against the door frame. Spyder was lying back, almost up to her eyelids in water. She emerged slowly, until her shoulders were above the waterline. Then she gracefully leapt up and out of the bath. She walked slowly over to Harlequin, a malicious smile on her face. As she reached him, one hand closed over his collar, the other stroking her face. Then she pulled him towards her, and spun out of the way, attempting to throw him into the bath. Harlequin fell, his feet hitting the rim, pushing out. He caught the other end, his six foot frame stretching to accomodate the huge tub. Spyder swore at him, and retreated into the bedroom. Harlequin kicked off, coming into a handstand, before slowly folding his legs down and standing up. And turned, Spyder laying on the bed, watching him. From the way she was watching him, and the fact that he could hear her breathing, it was obvious what she had in mind...[/I] Spyder: You know I don't like it when you do things like that... Harlequin: Oh? Spyder: It's too distracting. Now get over here. [I]Harlequin gladly complied. Reaching the bed, he slowly reclined beside her, leaning over her. His tongue found her neck, tracing intricate designs over her smooth flesh. His lips caressed her gently, before suddenly increasing the pressure. Spyder gasped, and her hand found his head, pulling it back. She looked at him a moment, then reached out. Far more intense than their physical joining was their mental symbiosis. Feelings, thoughts, emotions flooded back and forth, leaving them in blinding ecstacy. Hours later, Harlequin regarded the slyph beside him, asleep in perfection (OOC: Sorry, I felt the situation called for it). He smiled, thinking how lucky he was, and the smile was echoed on her lips.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I was recently spending some time in the Battle Arena, at which point I ran into three newbies. They were sparring, no suprise, but in such a fashion that it became obvious that they had never even glanced at the rules, and had no idea what they were doing. Now, I'm aware that most of the members that sign up do read the rules, but this kind of thing is really starting to become prevalent. So I was thinking; design some kind of written test, based on the rules, including specific rules for certain forums, that needs to be completed before you can register. I have no idea what the questions would be, and I have no idea whether certain people would bother to obey the rules after completing the test, but I still think it would help a fair bit.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]She's right Mitch. I don't believe in [I]anything[/I] anymore. Too many harsh experiences. I'm far too cynical to accept anything, for one thing. Blame my schizophrenia, if you will. It makes no difference what label you give it. The extent of my association with any deity is a habitual one, used in conjuction with the words "forsaken", or "damn it".[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Try equating some of my points with Jeff's black and white theory. That's where my "Does good every day of their life, doesn't believe in God --> goes to hell" statement came from. In fact, every point I made was directed towards Jeff. Your opinions are a little more liberal, so I haven't started on them, and didn't direct any of it at you. Oh, and as for the morality and stuff. It's basic nature to protect oneself. However, anarchy is also basic nature, of all creatures. Now, the intelligent mind fears anarchy, because the chances of living in a ruled society are much higher than the chances of living in a lawless one. So, we try to confine people with rules. Some smart person a few thousand years back decided that, "Wouldn't it be better if people thought they were following some basic human, or better yet, religious, value, then submitting to the temporal decision of some overlord? They'd be less likely to rebel against these laws we put on them, so we gain more control of them, and are less likely to be killed off by a violent society". And when you get right down to, that's what it's all about. Survival. We've adapted a lot of tricks to make it easier for ourselves, that's all. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'm more shocked than you are. Because we don't have that kind of money right now either. And your sig is longer than mine.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Eviceration, with a cheese grater. Rats, placed in a cage that is strapped to his body. Divide the cage into sections, one rat in each. They'll get hungry, then eat through him. Head first into a barrel full of leeches. Hooks placed at certain angles in the back. Hand him up by the hooks, place a fracture in the sternum, rib cage crumples in on his internal organs. Want a few more? Just remember, fish hooks, kitchen implements, and degredation.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]That is the most pathetic, bigoted thing I've ever heard. Do you know why that belief is prevalent? It's merely an extension of fear. Good men fear evil men, so they try to make every one as good as possible. You can't accept that goodness, should it exist, and I personally believe it doesn't, is confined to one single entity. If a person doesn't believe in your god, yet helps people every day of their lives, your god would consign them to some kind of eternal punishment? Excuse me, but how did your church get any converts at all? I certainly wouldn't follow what appears to be a somewhat sententious whiner. Welcome to the grey world, my lost cathartik friend. It's a lot more spacious here, but you can't see where you're going. It's somewhat fogged with misconceptions, prejudice, fear, and moral indignation: jealousy with a halo. Welcome to the real world. Your black and white theory might have worked in the Middle Ages, when you could simply burn anyone who objected, but all your friendly bigots can't do that anymore... so you fall back on absolutes. Absolutes are always the last refuge prejudice takes before the holder of the belief realises he's wrong. Your dogma is exactly the pathetic self-righteousness that has killed as many people as any war you can name over the years. The followers of your god can not claim to stand with the innocent. No one can. There are no innocents. But then, morality is also an extension of prejudice and fear. They are the conscious reaction to instinctive beliefs, not any celestial rule impressed upon us. As for my life depending on it, (I had a lot to do with Jesus's arguments, I was two feet away from him), you can bet that not only does not concern me, but if your god does strike me down, I'll join all the other matyrs out there. See you in hell.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Harlequin finished disrobing, gracefully slipping into the large bath. The water didn't exactly turn black immediately, but it wasn't pretty after he scrubbed himself clean. Spyder, of course, jumped out. Harlequin lay back laughing, before emptying the bath and refilling it. The water stayed clear this time around.[/I] Harlequin: Happy now? Spyder: Yes. Harlequin: Then why aren't you in here? [I]Spyder stood a moment, wondering the same thing. Then she slipped into the bath beside him. Smiling, he drew her to him, and started to kiss her softly.[/font][/color][/I]

[quote][I]Originally posted by [B]Final Flash[/I][/B] A thought--You claim we have free will, but what if those choices and such we make with our so called free will are predetermined choices, decided by fate? You can't prove I'm wrong. [/quote] [font=gothic][color=crimson]Simple. Either there is no higher power to choose for us, meaning free will exists, or some higher power, say it was God, wants us to do evil. And I seem to remember God claiming to allow his children the right to choose between good and evil. Or he's outright condemning people to go to hell. That is of course assuming the higher power involved is some kind of religious figure. And that religion has any basis at all, but I won't start that again.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Lacroix sat silently, softly whispering the words to an old song that had entered his head. He was on watch, Wind alseep in the jeep. The vehicle was parked in a storm drain, underneath a bridge. There were slight abutments on either side of the thin span. Lacroix perched in a tree about 20 metres away, keeping half an eye on the road. He doubted anything would come along. The branch swayed underneath him,gently moving in the night breeze. The road dipped slightly, coming down into the bridge. His reverie was broken by the sound of a number of vehicles approaching. The sound seemed to gutter, as if the engine was coughing. At last, it halted. Lacroix leapt down, running over to the side of the the drain. Running up the dirt beside it, he ducked in behind the railing. What looked to be a convoy was about 50 metres away. There was a swarm of men around it, holding up floodlights, and waving weapons around. More Soviets, by the looks of it. Several men, dressed in something other than military uniforms, came up to the lead truck, and slipped underneath it. Mechanics then. They came out a moment later, shaking their heads. There was a chorus of profanity and groans that even Lacroix could hear. One of the soldiers stepped forward, and pointed down the road. Lacroix swore softly. No doubt, they were going to roll the truck down to the gap, parking it on the sides of the bridge. They'd proceed to work on it, and if needs be, the other trucks could continue their journey. Lacroix leapt down, hurriedly waking up Wind. Explaining the situation, he started to lead him off. Wind halted Lacroix, a vicious grin on his face.[/I] Wind: This jeep has a propane cylinder in the back. We wait for the convoy to reach the bridge, then we blow it up. [i]Lacroix considered a moment, then nodded. Taking a long piece of rope from the jeep, they dipped it in petrol, then lay it out. It ran about 100 metres. Then fed it into the engine compartment, hoping that the smaller explosion there would set off the cylinder. Then they took the other end of the rope, and retreated up the small watercourse. The Soviet truck reached the dip in the road a minute later, the rest of the convoy behind it. Wind smiled, and lit the match. This was the dangerous part. If any of the soldiers noticed the fuse, they would most likely be killed. There were several tense moments, as the guards surveyed the night, and the mechanics set up shop. Soldiers milled around aimlessly, bored and tired. The night animals had flown at the sound of machinery, so the night was otherwise silent. The fuse reached the jeep, travelling into the engine compartment. Nothing happened. Wind and Lacroix looked at each other in confusion. Wind beckoned Lacroix to stay put, then crept back down. Lacroix waved at him frantically to return, but was ignored. Lacroix burrowed further into the watercourse, hoping he wouldn't be found, even if Wind was. Wind reached the jeep without mishap however. He waved at Lacroix, then turned, and opened the compartment above the petrol tank. There was a flare, then the night exploded. There was a chain of detonations, the sent fireballs flying in all direction. The shockwave was immense, knocking the breath from Lacroix, and throwing him to the ground, even several hundred feet away. The trucks must have been carrying munitions, or some kind of volitile chemical. The bridge was burning, consumed within a minute by a ranging conflagration. Lacroix wondered whether it was some kind of sign. Bushland around the bridge was catching alight, embers floating over and igniting trees and undergrowth. Lacroix painfully got up, and started to run. He didn't bother to check for Wind. Nothing could have survived that.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Even after TN points it out, there are [I]still[/I] mutliple spelling errors. Jack, being a schizophrenic, currently in remission, I can tell you that it doesn't really do anything like that. Or at least, I hope not, or the world's going to be pretty messed up... As for whether psychic ability exists... More than anything else, it is simply intuition. The mind coming to a conclusion, based on non-substantial evidence, that this age of logic doesn't accept. So we pass it off as a feeling, then get scared when it comes to pass. Or, is the phone case, does any here have any idea how many thoughts can pass through your head in a second? I don't mean directly, but subconsciously. If one of them happens to "mention" the phone, then it rings... well, seems uncanny. 54th time....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Hmmm. I seem to have it the other way around. We did our Christmas shopping today. This is a month or two after a long, expensive trip to America. My father insisted on it being a low-key Christmas. I told him to forget me entirely, let's face it, I don't care. Anyway, there were three of us, buying for each other and three cousins, and the total spent was $500. That's $80 a person Now that is ridiculous. Outright ridiculous. As for worst gift, I'd have to say the type of clothes my family attempts to foist off on me. The worst ever: a long sleeved flannelette shirt, checked black and red. What were they thinking? It just stinks of "Redneck". And as you may have noticed, my aversion to that area tend to come out somewhat stridently... 53rd time....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Not exactly celebrating, but I always mark the winning of another round by those corporate bastards who instituionalise everything and make everything appeal to the rest of the consumerist bastards we call society. You know why all those "disaffected youths", or whatever you want to call them, dislike all that kind of thing? They hate Christmas shopping and the like. 4 times out of 5, that's what it is. It's just an intelligent excuse to get out of it. I just need something to gripe about.... 53rd time....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]If there was destiny, or fate, or whatever, then why the hell hasn't someone worked out a way to bribe the Grand Jester that controls this pathetic mess we all live in? Call him God if you want, but if there really was fate or destiny, and no way to change it, then there would be no such thing as free will. Which there is. Which means fate can be altered, which means fate and destiny don't exist. To hell with it really. What makes anyone think that if there was a higher being, or whatever, it would waste its time tampering with the lives of beings such as us? Are any of you really that egotistical? 52nd time....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Well, just off the top of my head... The Silmarillion, J.R.R Tolkien The Hobbit, J.R.R Tolkien The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R Tolkien The Two Towers, J.R.R Tolkien The Return of the King, J.R.R Tolkien Pawn of Prophecy, David Eddings Queen of Sorcery, David Eddings Magician's Gambit, David Eddings Castle of Wizardry, David Eddings Enchanters' End Game, David Eddings Guardians of the West, David Eddings King of the Murgos, David Eddings Demon Lord of Karanda, David Eddings Sorceress of Darshiva, David Eddings Seeress of Kell, David Eddings Belgarath the Sorcerer, David Eddings Polgara the Sorceress, David Eddings The Redemption of Althalus, David Eddings The Diamond Throne, David Eddings The Ruby Knight, David Eddings The Sapphire Rose, David Eddings Domes of Fire, David Eddings The Shining Ones, David Eddings The Hidden City, David Eddings The Losers - David Eddings Magician - Raymond Feist Silverthorn - Raymond Feist Darkness At Sethanon - Raymond Feist Faerie Tale - Raymond Feist Prince Of The Blood - Raymond Feist The King's Buccaneer - Raymond Feist Shadow Of A Dark Queen - Raymond Feist Rise Of A Merchant Prince - Raymond Feist Shards Of A Broken Crown - Raymond Feist Kronder: The Betrayal - Raymond Feist Kronder: The Assassins - Raymond Feist Kronder: Tear Of The Gods - Raymond Feist Daughter Of The Empire - Raymond Feist/Janny Wurts Servant Of The Empire - Raymond Feist/Janny Wurts Mistress Of The Empire - Raymond Feist/Janny Wurts Honoured Enemy - Raymond Feist Murder In LaMut - Raymond Feist Talon Of The Silver Hawk - Raymond Feist Curse Of The Mistwraith - Janny Wurts The Ships Of Merior - Janny Wurts The Warhost At Vastmark - Janny Wurts Fugitive Prince - Janny Wurts Grand Conspiracy - Janny Wurts Peril's Gate - Janny Wurts Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind Stone Of Tears - Terry Goodkind Blood Of The Fold - Terry Goodkind Temple Of The Winds - Terry Goodkind Soul Of The Fire - Terry Goodkind Faith Of The Fallen - Terry Goodkind Battleaxe - Sara Douglas Enchanter - Sara Douglas Starman - Sara Douglas Sinner - Sara Douglas Pilgrim - Sara Douglas Crusader - Sara Douglas Homeland - R.A. Salvatore Exile - R.A. Salvatore Sojourn - R.A. Salvatore The Crystal Shard - R.A. Salvatore Streams Of Silver - R.A. Salvatore The Halfling's Gem - R.A. Salvatore The Legacy - R.A. Salvatore Starless Night - R.A. Salvatore Seige Of Darkness - R.A. Salvatore Passage To Dawn - R.A. Salvatore Spine Of The World - R.A. Salvatore (One other, not Sea Of Swords, can't remember the name right now, R.A. Salvatore) Daughter of The Drow - Elaine Cunningham Tangled Webs - Elaine Cunningham. Anyway, that's just off the top of my head. I'll do a real list up sometime.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Hmmm. Think I'll ressurect an old rpg scene of mine... IC: [I]Lacroix started the night out restless, unable to sleep. The bed he had been given was somewhat more spacious than he was used to, and far more opulent. He'd probably have better luck sleeping on the floor. After a few hours, he sighed, and arose. From his earlier visits, he knew of all the byways and passages that riddled the castle, and all the entrances. Walking over to the large, empty wardrobe, he stepped inside the door and crawled into one of the shelves, using his legs to push him into what appeared to be a wall. It swung open soundlessly. Apparently the Baron was a little less certain of himself than he seemed.... Lacroix slid into a passageway, landing on his hands easily and rolling to his feet. He listened intently, but the castle was silent. Taking a short moment to orient himself, he set off along the tunnel, traversing the winding turns designed to confuse an attacker with ease. Eventually, he ended up in the library. The library entrance was behind one of the shelves, of course, yet it opened an entire section of books. The interesting part was that if you removed one of the 20 or so books that made up the door, or even all of them, you were unable to tell there was a door there. And there was no wall at the end of passageway that was visible from the inside. And no wooden backing. Yet you couldn't see the black gap. Lacroix still hadn't worked it out. As was his custom, Lacroix knocked the door, whatever it was, open, then dove out silently, coming up on his feet in a catlike stance. Well...he was intending to. This time however, on his way out, he ran into another human body. His shoulder struck the being in the stomach. Lacroix immediately rolled away, and looked down. Alastuin lay there, looking up at him slightly surprised, but apparently uninjured. Lacroix gave her a hand up, and actually managed an apology.[/I] Lacroix: Couldn't sleep either? Alastuin: I rarely do. Lacroix: Alright. Question 2. Why were you going through tomes such as these? [I]Another reason the entrance was safe was that it was contained behind the tomes on demonology. Lacroix had read them, they had no idea what they were talking about, but it still served to intimidate the foolish.[/I] Alastuin: Nothing more interesting to read. Lacroix: Even though they aren't in the least bit factual? Alastuin: How was I to know? Or care... [I]Lacroix reached behind him and took a book at random. Leading Alastuin over to one of the reading tables, he sat her down and opened it, reading through the book. Whenever he came to an error, and there were a lot of them, he'd point it out. He was, however, nice enough not to corrupt her with true knowledge. Eventually, dawn found them. Lacroix lay back, against the table, Alastuin curled up next to him, her head in his lap. Seemed to surprise several librarians. Not their presence, they were used to Lacroix slipping in and out, just that he actually tolerated company.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Alias Name: Harlequin Age: 27 Expertise: Hand to hand combat, bioengineering, anatomy (knows a lot of strange ways to kill people, using some very strange substances), traditional weapons (swords, quarterstaves etc). Bio: Originally Lacroix s'Xalerian, Harlequin was one of those rare people who went off and studied something like bioengineering, then turned around and devoted himself to martial arts and combat training at the same time. mainly because he was an agent for the Australian government. ASIO wasn't really good for anything, and Lacroix was normally called in only they were really in trouble. However, Harlequin was also responisble for creating several biological weapons, and was the author of countless covered up mutations. Not a socialite by any means, Lacroix is somewhat insane, and normally emotionless. However, he can normally be depened on, usually because he couldn't be bothered finding a motive to betray you...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Make it England. Chances are that's what Raven and I will end up doing. Anyway... Inside Australia, I've only been to NSW twice. I've visited America/NZ for a while though. Have to say my favourite place, out of all those, would be certain areas of California. Mainly the mountains. Don't ask me to explain that though....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Yeah, it's all formulated these days. Even Melanie Rawn did exactly the same thing, and she's normally pretty original. I'd also add in Goodkind's Sword Of Truth, Sara Douglas's Axis, and whatever the trilogy after it is, maybe even some of Feist's novels and maybe one or two more. Still, the common theme is basically taken from rpging. Design the perfect party, then tranfer it into books. At least, I'm choosing to believe that so I don't have to accept that authors are running out of ideas.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Lacroix and Wind sat idly on their tree branch, the harbour of Soviets about 20 metres ahead of them being either blind or mentally bankrupt. There seemed to be about 7 of them. A single section. One person who was fufilling the role of corporal, Lacroix was somewhat fuzzy on Russian ranks, but the 2IC seemed to be an ordinary soldier. Two of them were wounded. Chances are they'd only just gotten out of a fire fight, and bunked down. They were still running scared in other words.[/I] Lacroix: Kill them? Wind: Not yet. They seem a little, uneasy. Perhaps it would be best if we heighted that somewhat... [I]They stayed in the tree until nightfall. Slipping down, they went in different directions, Lacroix right, Wind left. Each securely fastened one of their pistols to a tree, aiming it towards the small group of Russians. The next pistol was secured to another tree, in the next quadrant. Pieces of string were attached to the trigger, and Lacroix and Wind held the other ends. Wind let out the cry of a local nightbird, and the both started pulling strings, alternating combinations and times of fire. The reaction was immediate. Automatic fire ripped through the bush around them. Failing to hit anything, the gunshots kept coming. Lacroix and Wind, now down low, only had to wait until the Soviets tired, and resumed their defensive positions. Then they retrieved their guns, reloaded them, and crept in. They came in from the north quadrant. Lacroix ran in, leaping and coming down hard on the back of one prone Soviet, before kicking the second in the head several times. Over his shoulder, Wind took the coporal style person out with a single bullet. The other 4 Russians restarted their firing. Sidling along the ground, Lacroix took the first two out with a few choice shots. Wind was engaged in a fire fight with the other two. Lacroix circled around behind them, his katana coming out of its sheathe. The point took the first man in the kidney. Lacroix withdrew the blade, spun and backhand slashed the second one. The blade tore into his arm, before slicing into his ribs. Both of them were dead within a minute. Wind walked over, laughed silently with Lacroix, and they retreated back to the jeep they had left 50 or so metres away.[/font][/color][/I]