Sign Up Vignette [PG-LSV]

[Shy]

[center][font=georgia][size=6][I][u]Vignette[/u][/I][/font][/size][/center] [font=arial]?Thanks for the ale, son,? the older gentleman placed a handful of coins onto the solid oak table, and stumbled out of his chair, ?I best be heading out before the storm hits.? Michael, a young server at the Crossroads Tavern, sighed as he looked upon the job that awaited him. In less than a few hours this elderly patron had managed to send his table, and the surrounding floor into total disarray. It would take a great deal of work to undo the damage that had been done; Michael knew all too well that it would be him to clean up the mess. Unlike his father and grandfather before him, the child had no interest in tending to the needs of complete strangers. It was time for a change, he thought, and if one member of the family were destined for something greater than this drinking establishment it would be him. However, until then, peanuts shells and puddles of ale demanded his immediate attention. ?I hate this place,? he muttered darkly to himself, grabbing a handful of shells and tossing them into the sack of garbage he had placed on the floo, ?Filthy pigs. The whole lot of ?em.? ?Flithy? No. You?re just too young to appreciate the value of this place, grandson.? His grandfather had always kept a watchful eye on him, and sometimes he forgot exactly how close this watch became. Rarely a word could escape Michael?s mouth without the man knowing about it. ?What value does this place hold, Grandpa? How much could your lousy ale possibly be worth?? ?You see value in coins, Michael, I see value in other things? like knowledge.? The youth continued to stare at his grandfather absently. ?If you?d think of our patrons, our guests as more than customers you might see what they bring to our family. Those that frequent Crossroads are travelers, craftsmen, adventurers, and even explorers from lands far off. In exchange for a place to sit, and perhaps a drink, they are willing to share their experiences with us humble folk. ?Everyone has a story to tell. If you?d listen to some of our visitors rather than avoid them so passionately, you might come to learn that as well.?[/font] [center][size=4][b][font=georgia]* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *[/b][/size][/font][/center] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]What is it?[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]In an isolated tavern an eclectic mix of characters are seeking shelter from a powerful storm. To pass the time and entertain themselves they decide to tell stories to one another; some of these stories are from the characters? own past, some are tales that have been handed down through countless generations. It's called "Vignette," and it's a collection of seemingly unrelated and self-contained tales, as told by our narrators.[/font] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]Self-contained? Unrelated? What?[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]The purpose of this RPG is to tell great stories that are accessible to the readers. Unlike other RPGs where a great deal of background information is required to enjoy the story, each post is a story in and of itself. In theory, you will read the 45th post and be able to enjoy/understand it without having to read the previous 44. No backstory, no flashbacks, just tell your story and do it well.[/font] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]Who are the narrators?[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]You, the players, are the narrators of these stories. Our narrators are a diverse cast of characters, each covering a wide range of archetypes. These archetypes are expected to cover a wide variety of genre; science-fiction, western, fantasy, and more. By playing with established archetypes and genres the stories should be easier for people to follow as opposed to creating a whole new universe and a new set of rules.[/font] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]Will our characters ever interact?[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]They are constantly interacting. The narrators are sitting around a table at the Crossroads Tavern and telling tales of their (and possibly others?) exploits to one another. As I imagine it, the narrators were complete strangers until they met at the tavern, but there are no rules stating that the characters cannot have a history together (which may unfold during a story or two.)[/font] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]But don?t you want us to avoid delving into our characters? histories??[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]I want you to tell the best story possible, and I expect that your character would draw upon their own life experiences for their stories. Getting to know the narrators over the course of the RPG is completely welcome. However, each post should be enjoyable as an individual piece.[/font] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]What kinds of characters do you want us to make?[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]My only concern is that you create a character that does not limit the quality of self-contained stories you tell. A depressed teenager character might not have a lot of potential for individual adventures, but a cowboy, witch, assassin, robot, or even a villain would. I want characters from all types of worlds and settings; characters the reader can instantly fall in love with. Also, if you want to push the storytelling aspects of this even further, you may want to consider creating a unique character. For example, a historian or a grandmother might not seem very interesting but both would be considered great storytellers.[/font] [center][font=georgia][size=3][u][b]What should my sign-up contain?[/b][/u][/size][/font][/center] [font=arial]Character?s Name: Place of Origin: Describe your character in 50 words or less: [b]Submit a story, as told by your character. Whether or not your character is featured in the story is up to you, but I want a good grasp of the character by reading it, and I want to be entertained.[/b][/font]

[size=1]Any questions or concerns you have regarding the RPG can be posted here. I expect to start an Underground thread as a companion for this depending on the success of the main title, but until then any discussion about "Vignette" can take place in this thread.

-Shy[/size]

[Brasil]

[center][size=5]Marlow[/size] [size=4]Great Britain, Heart of the Empire[/size][/center] [size=2]"If interest were based on appearances alone, Marlow would walk through the crowd unseen. But his eyes possess a fiery sparkle, his voice is rich and smooth. He speaks with a wisdom far beyond his years, and this is why he attracts so many pairs of eager ears." [center]~~~ "Traveling Down the Nile"[/center] There was a time in years gone past when I traveled far and wide, but in none of my adventures was there ever the excitement I felt inside, when I traveled down the Nile in a ship not four feet wide. The water was moving quickly, cascading up the bow, drowning the deck before it and how-- But I stayed my hand from moving, locking it upon the wheel, for if I were to move it then, the rocky shallows of the river would tear hellish gashes in the keel. As my ship and I raced down that torrent of a stream, off in the distance I heard a scream, far beyond the edges of the trees. The shriek was human, that much I know, but the growl that followed? Oh, that was far, far too low. There are some who say there is no fate worse than Death, but I do say to them that perhaps there is, if that bloody screech was that soul's final breath.[/size]

[Ezekiel]

[COLOR=DarkSlateGray][SIZE=1][CENTER][U]Rebecca Carlton[/U][/CENTER]

[CENTER][U]USA, Texas[/U][/CENTER]

Having a strong accent isn?t all that marks Rebecca out. Her short, red hair, contrasting green eyes and healthy tan are a sure fire way of getting her noticed. With her height being less than impressive, but her heeled shoes classed as weapons, Rebecca knows how to leave an impression.

[CENTER][U]?Truth??[/U][/CENTER]

Having a good old family life and living up to my mother?s expectations of mothering 5 children and two puppies wasn?t what I had in mind for my future. Oh no, not Rebecca Carlton, there was no way I was sticking around in Texas, waiting for my head to start bleeding from boredom. As soon as I could, I grabbed the chance to leave and I swear down on my Grandpa that it was the best choice I have ever made.

Sure, travelling wasn?t easy at first but I sure have some things that stuck in my mind from all those months of confusion. England was my first stop; mainly because I had family there, and it was there that I first heard about ghosts. I was hooked from day one and my research took me to all different places, one was the town of York.

It was Halloween, a time when the ghosts are supposed to come by and scare tourists witless, you know the cliché guide speech. Anyway, there I was, just minding my own business when the most terrible feeling of cold swept over my whole body. I looked up only to see what looked like a shadow on the pathway, I was shocked, as you can imagine and called everyone over to see. It was only when I felt someone poking me in the cheek and I opened my eyes that I realised I had fallen asleep in the park?
[CENTER]----[/CENTER]

I know my sign up is very different form Siren?s, I was trying to show that Rebecca is a very casual person and her story is supposed to reflect that. Eh, hope I did okay please let me know if there?s anything that needs changing.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Vicky]

[SIZE=1][B][U][CENTER]Lykos.[/U]
City of Troy.[/B]

A warrior bred for battle in the great city of Troy, his shoulders are strong enough to carry the heavy golden armour and golden Trojan spirit. Some see him as a lion with golden hair for a mane, and others see him as a tamer with deep blue ocean eyes.

---

[U][B]The Greeks Are Coming.[/U][/B][/CENTER]

The morning sun was high above the great walls of Troy, Apollo was watching over us this morning. The great sun God sees all; he protects Troy, and its warriors. You would know the mighty power of our God if you sat on the stone stairs of the city and watching the people going about their daily business. Soldiers walking through the streets, children running and traders walking through the gates. But we all knew the Greeks were going to invade, and I say let them come for they can never break through the might walls of Troy nor can they defeat a Trojan warrior when he has Apollo watching over him.

I looked over to my right to hear the clashing of weak wooden swords and I found two children with green capes on their backs, clashing their wooden swords and jumping at each other. They would be warriors one day, just like me.

?Give me your sword,? I said smiling towards the tallest Trojan boy. He looked up at me, green eyes piercing through brown hair, and smiled back, handing me his crude wooden sword. ?I know you will become a great warrior one day, but first you must learn how to wield your weapon!? I said brightly, thrusting the sword out towards the smaller boy who jumped back. I bent my back leg back and pulled the sword up to my shoulder as if I was going to launch it over the beach, but I did not, I stood there smiling.

?Are you a great warrior?? The tall boy asked. I let my smile grow brighter, and nodded.

?I am,? I replied giving him back the sword. ?I was once a sailor and am now a soldier. I have travelled all over, from Troy to Greece. I have only recently returned to Troy when hearing news that Prince Paris had brought back a young women, and that the Greeks would launch an attack. Though I intend to fight in this war I also intend to survive it, even if the Greeks break-?

?Those Greeks could never break through are walls, yaaah!? The second boy yelled out before I could finish. He brought his sword forward to strike me, but I simply lifted my sword and laughed. ?Those Greeks will be crushed by the power of us, they don?t stand a chance in this war!?

?Very brave, I can see that. But do you know what war is? Its where people die for others and only be brave are remembered. Cowards are forgotten. I could easily die by one blow or be over powered but a Greek warrior, but I don?t intend to die. In Troy I was born, and in Troy I will die if I must.? I said boldly. The boys looked at each other for a moment, and thought.

?What will happen if the Greeks take Troy?? The one beside me asked, tugging my arm. I looked up to the sun, sighing deeply. Kneeling down I placed a reassuring hand on the boy?s small shoulder, and gave him a warm smile.

?Troy will not fall by the hands of the Greeks. It will stand strong as long as brave warriors like you refuse to fall. The walls of our city will be harder than the shield of a thousand warriors. When they attack you will not fight, but I, and many others will.? I closed my eyes for a moment and remembered I few of the times when I would have said the exact same words, only slightly different when it came to the location. The boy gave a nod, so I gave him back his wooden sword and rose to my feet, patting him on the shoulder as he ran off through the stone streets of Troy.

[I]I will be ready for Greeks. I know I will. I will hold my spear in my hand and charge like a lion at those Greeks in rage for they have no right to invade our realm. Prince Paris stole Helen, I know that, but who are the Greeks to say that her love is only for a man of their country? How can they start a war when Helen agreed to come back to Troy because of love? They have no right. They will never take Troy, and I will be the one to defend it.[/I]

As I thought about this there was a sudden jolt and fear running through the cities. I felt it. I looked up towards the towers above the city wall and heard the loud booms and bangs of the bells as the soldiers above battered them. The rest of the city heard, too. Screams erupted from the streets and men ran towards the armouries while the women picked up their children and ran back to their homes. I stood still on the streets as the soldiers ran past me, running with all their might to arm the men and to prepare for the Greeks. I too felt the same fear as my fellow Trojans, but I too felt their excitement.

After moments of silence I took one last glance at the sun and turned my back, and I ran towards the armoury, like a lion on swift and deadly heels, to collect my sword, my spear, my helmet and my shield, which I would use to defend Troy.[/SIZE]

[demonchild781]

Character?s Name: Kirra

Place of Origin: Middle Ages

Describe your character in 50 words or less: A strong woman who's traveled the world. Dark, short with a strange appeal to her.

I watched her from my corner seat. She wore tight, revealing clothing with her curly hair pulled back dramaticly. She wore heavy heeled boats that seemed none-too-pratical, but gave her powerful walk a sway. The rotating of her hips, the bounce of her hair and practically exposed breast was all some how beautiful.

I wasn't attracted to the woman; I enjoyed male company in my bed, but I knew when I saw something beautiful. And that she was.

I watched her carefully as she pranced across the room and out of sight. She was twenty years of age, flaunting herself to all the men in the tavern. She had fair skin, smooth with little to no freckling. Her hair was a stunning straw yellow with too much hair products in it. Her dress was low cut, tight around her waist and flaring lightly above her ***. Overall, she was tall, thin with ample hips and breast, and an appealing face.

"Whatcha be starin' at, Kirra?" A voice pierced the overbearing noise.

"Just the girl," I pointed towards the door.

"Ah, the fair one. She be in some trouble wearin' that garb around here." Ander sat beside me, her light hair falling onto the table.

"That she shall. That she shall." I replied.

[Annie]

Judith Makanary, San Fransisco, California "I am Judith, no other. My life has been full of health, love, pain, and disappointment. Countless times has my heart been shattered with letdowns, and my will to carry on has been interrupted with thoughts of suicide. No matter how much help I saught, I knew my life would always be as it may. But, that was years ago, and I'm free from my morbid depressions..and myself. I now have a will to go on; I now feel the warmth of love and care; my heart is starting to mend. I am-Judith..." A Tale of a Smile My heart beat fiercely as my feet carried me further. The night was frigid and rutheless to my bare, pounding feet. My heartbeat burst in my eardrums, drowning the faint yells and plees. I knew he was running after me; begging me to stay, begging my forgiveness. The children's playground, glittered under the warm yellow glow of a single streetlight. Ice blanketed all that stood still and cold. Swingsets cracked and creaked as I dodged between; my breath seemed to freeze in thin air. "Judith! Please, forgive me! Judith, you are overreacting!" His calls filters into the crisp breeze. Try as I might, I could not ignore. Maybe I was overreacting. I have that tendency, and I do react abruptly to petty things. I could not help that, and he chose not to help. That is why I am running. Running away from the pain he chose to give me; instead of love. My mind was clouded with memories that I wished would always remain and sorrows that followed my flee. The pain began to settle in that space we call a heart. I had finally found happiness with another, and it only crumbled beneath his venemous words he had professed moments before. I loved him. Loved him so much that I had to bear him my back as I fled from his crying. "Judith!! STOP!!" His voice echoed off of silent buildings; but just barely for me to hear past a sickening sound of sreeching tires gliding helplessly over the icey concrete. His plee bellowed into my head. "Nooooo!!" My head throbbed, my eyes swelled shut, my body ached to the bone. The taste of blood flooded my mouth and throat. My chest heaved, desperate to catch the breath that was knocked from me. It was here that I felt him. His arms held me close, his body rocked gently, his voice somber and soft. "Oh God, Judith...please say something.." "I-it hurts...Marcus, it hurts.." "Sssh," Marcus cooed, "it will be better soon. An ambulance is on the way...Oh God, stay with me...Judith, stay. I'll never hurt you again, I stake my life on it. We could move to the country together, and have children like you want. I'll do anything for you..I love you so much, Judith.." "..I g-guess you leave me..no c-choice.." His arms craddled me tighter, as if I were to just flutter in the wind like the gentle snow. This, this was the moment I gained my will to live. His sobbing mended my shattered heart. My shaking hands found his wet cheeks. He was smiling.

[color=indigo][size=1]Whew, I hope that does something. I got mushy, but it was the first idea that came to mind. Meh..[/color][/size]

[Heaven's Cloud]

Name Gwelldyon Place of Origin Faerie Brief A page for Queen Titania, Gwelldyon was on an errand for her majesty when Lord Oberon sealed the trails between Faerie and the world of men. Accidentally cast from his home, Gwelldyon swaps tales of travelings for food and lodging. Siver Tongue Many years ago I found myself on a path that I had never travelled before (not as common an occurance as one may think) within a forest that looked none to happy to receive me. Despite the ominous lichen that clung to ancient war torn trees and the ill spirited wood nymphs that spat and cursed when I passed by, the road was well made (Pheonician or perhaps Roman, the Romans crafted excellent roads) so I ignored my apprehension and pressed onward. After a long while I came to a clearing and encountered a gathering of magicians. This was quite sometime after Oberon closed the Faerie gates and most of the wild magic dissipated, so finding such a company was very unusual. The magicians all looked quite pensive, and, knowing better than to disturb a contemplative magician (for that is when they are most apt to try and make servants of my kind) I decided that it was an excellent time to retrace my steps. Unfortunately, the path behind me vanished and had been replaced by thistles and thorns. My fears came to fruition when a voice beckoned me from amongst the magicians. "Ah faerie, so you have finally arrived, we have been waiting for you for quite some time." The speaker emerged from the congregation. He was a handsome fellow with piericing green eyes and snow white hair. His white magician's cloak was decorated with a mantle of white feathers. In his hand he held my prison, a small silver mirror laced with enchantment. "Do you know me faerie?" I told him I did. Everyone knew of the Owl King, he had ruled most of what is today northern Great Britian and was campaigning to control a considerable amount more of southern Europe. "And you also are aware that you are now bound to me and while in my service your tounge will be cast in silver rendering you unable to speak false word?" I nodded, for as long as he held the magic mirror I was indebted to him. For the next several years I was at the Owl King's beckon. Together, we embarked on many adventures (though I will save those for another time) and I performed many feats of magic for him. And, though he never treated me ill, he was always careful around chose while around me knowing that I would seize any opportunity I could and turn it to my benefit. One winter day, while the Owl King and his men were discussing some troubelsome bandits in his northern realms, the King asked me for my aid. "Faerie, none of my spells have unveiled these clever rouges, what magic can we use to catch these clever foxes." I told him a spell that would allow him to find the scent of those he sought out and follow it wherever the scent may lead. The king was exceedingly pleased with the spell and that evening he and his army of magicians sang the incantation under the full moon. One by one the king and his men began to scream, clawing at their skin and hair. "Faerie you have betrayed our bargain!" I stared pityingly at the once majestic king as my prison fell from his hand and shattered on the hardened winter ground. As the screams gave way to howls I scratched the kings ears and said to him this: "Though my obligation to you has passed, I find no reason in not sharing the truth with you one last time. Though my silver tounge could not break, its reflection can be bent and skewed. Besides, what better way is there to catch a fox than becoming a hound?"

[Hevn]

[B]Question[/B]: How many members are you taking and is there a deadline for submitting sign-ups? Thanksies.

Anyway, fascinating idea ^_~

[Shy]

[QUOTE=Hevn][B]Question[/B]: How many members are you taking and is there a deadline for submitting sign-ups? Thanksies.

Anyway, fascinating idea ^_~[/QUOTE]
[size=1]I don't have a set number of members I'd like to include. No more than five or six, I think, just because I'd like to keep the group down to a small number. But then again, I'm not really going to turn away anyone if they have a fantastic sign-up. So... the number of sign-ups I accept depends entirely on the quality of sign-ups I receive.

As for a deadline, I also don't have one of those in mind. Also, it's time for final exams for me, so I' quite busy. I have no definite dates set up, though. You have more than a week and less than two weeks, sounds good?

-Shy[/size]

[Hevn]

[quote name='Shy][size=1']As for a deadline, I also don't have one of those in mind. Also, it's time for final exams for me, so I' quite busy. I have no definite dates set up, though. You have more than a week and less than two weeks, sounds good?[/size][/quote]
I'm also a bit busy and final exams are next week sooo... that definitely sounds good. ^_~

[Skye]

[size=1][center][color=indigo][font=veranda][b]Lishka Firebranch[/b]

[u]Middle Ages[/u]

?I never heard her say a word. But when she looked at you, you knew what she meant for you to know. It was frightening; her witch green-grey eyes haunted you. One would be warned to avoid her gaze.?

~*~

I was cold; dark chestnut hair whipped about my face as the wind bit through the heavy cloak slung over my shoulders. I bit my lip to keep from trying to curse (as it hurt to do so), and warm blood dribbled down my chin. I brought one slim, brown hand to it, and tasted the blood. It was salty. A small red drop fell onto my mare?s black neck, and she turned her head to regard me with dark brown eyes.

What I read in that expression no one else would have seen. I patted her silky mane in reassurance, and she snorted, continuing her trot. I sat back, the reins looped over the saddle horn. I pulled the hood of my cloak tighter about my face, and kept my legs tight against the barrel of my mare?s body.

We spotted lights in our path, and she sped up, doing a full out gallop. I guided her with my legs and shifting of weight.

?[b]Hail, lady![/b]?

I took the reins in my hands, and slowed the horse. I nodded respectfully. ?[b]You the healer they sent?[/b]? I nodded again. The man looked up to me, and I was surprised to meet eyes the same color as mine.

?[b]You talk?[/b]?

Despite being mute, I felt compelled to tell him who I was. To tell him everything. I shook my head. His eyes dropped to my hands, which started to move in sign. He watched for a moment, and then nodded. ?[b]You?re mute. Lishka?[/b]? I nodded affirmative. I signed something, and then his eyes widened. ?[b]Firebranch?[/b]? I nodded, curios about his shock.

?[b]That?s my last name.[/b]?

Our eyes met, and I signed, ?[b]Micah.[/b]? He nodded, and I slid off the horse, into his arms. Brother and sister. ?[b]Farmer Bent told me about a girl. ?Never any good. Never said yes sir, no sir.? I never knew who he meant.[/b]? Me. He meant me.[/color]

Whee! Fun that was. I think I will like this game.[/size][/font][/center]

[Guest Sean]

[size=1][center][B][U]Steve Murray[/U]
[U]Vertigo[/U][/B]

'We must become the change we want to see in the world' Guess who is the head of that change. The change in all of us. That change is rock?n?roll. And that is what life should be. It should be changed for the better good. What is he doing....

[I]The following story is just a story told from the eyes of Steve Murray. This is not him doing this, but it is a story he thought of and ofcourse manipulated.[/I]

[U]Spray[/U]
Lying down in my blood bath, the ceiling had the hint of bourgandy in it, also blood-stained. Stains not coming out, never will. That room forever tainted in the mist of death. And a knife lying in my hand, that tainted in the blood aswell. What wasn't stained in this room of hatred?

The door slowly opened up into the darkened hallway, the light's flickered ever so slightly. But they dimmed out again. I walked out of the room, still the smell of death followed up the hall. The blood dripping of the knife and of myself along the way. What was he doing with the knife anyway?

He knocked on the last door, 27, a moderatley aged women, around 32 answered and gasped. I smiled, the knife through the body, suffering from the metal plunging deep into her body. Spluttering up so much blood she choked, and suffocated. Her death was quicker than the last ones.

Again I lie down on the ground, the blood still spraying around the room, soon this room will be like the last. And soon the chain will go on once again.[/size][/center]

[DeadSeraphim]

Rail Maximillion
Brisbane, Australia

He is a vigilante, a murderer, and, to some, an ally. He has the frame of an Olympian God, the burning eyes of a demon, and the cold precision of an android. He lives for one purpose, and one purpose only: To dismantle the Brisbane Underworld one person at a time.

He is truely a man to be feared.

---

Best Regards to the Devil

He looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear, his hands shaking in terror. The cold steel of my pistol was pressed firmly between his eyes, and the man seemed to realize that this was it; he was going to die tonight, and there was little he could do to avert it. Didn't mean he was about to give up though.

'You don't know what you're doing!' he told me for the third time. 'You'll create large scale gang warfare if you do this! Hundreds will die!' My face remained impassive. 'Why don't you care? WHY?? You don't know what you're doing!' I raised an eyebrow.

'Are you done?' The man's eyes widened further.

'You-You don't care do you? You don't give a **** about what happens when I die, do you?' Still prostrate before me, he searched my face feverishly for a new excuse. Then he grinned, confident he had an arguement to stop me.

'Well, consider this then,' he said in a low sly voice. 'When you kill me you will be destroyed a thousand times over by my gang.' He paused for effect. 'Do you care now?' Silence. 'DO YOU?' I smiled oddly.

'No. No I don't.' His breath faltered as the truth hit him. He had been getting confident, thought that maybe he could convince me to spare him. But it had been nothing but a short-lived pipe dream, a fleeting hope that he would never have. A slow patch of wetness spread on his crotch as this fact played over and over in his mind relentlessly.

This did not go unnoticed, and I spat on his upturned face, an ugly sneer gracing my features.

'You disgust me,' I said, my voice bitter. 'You and all you're drug trafficking kind. It is my desire to destroy each and everyone of you before my time on this earth is through.' I closed my eyes, and listened to his soft whimpering for a moment. 'I love impossible tasks don't you?'

The man moaned softly and my finger tightened around the trigger, sending a bullet of hot lead through his skull.

Don Violi's body collapsed to the ground, and I looked down on it for a moment, before leaving the secluded alley in which I had murdered Brisbane's greatest drug lord.

'Best regards to the devil.'

That was fun to write, regardless whether I get in or not.

[Dragon Warrior]

[FONT=Trebuchet MS][size=5][b]Sootfeather[/b][/size] [I]Birthplace: Rutdagger[/I] Once a man, now a cat. Cursed by evil, forever trapped. He takes tasks from different masters almost every week in an attempt to find his prey?s whereabouts. A curse? Perhaps not. His newfound nimbleness, flexibility, and stealth are only tools in the search for his quarry that wronged him. [u]The Curse[/u] [left][size=2]?Sootfeather,? the unmistakable voice resounded through the dark corridors of the horrific building, ?so you did come.? Sootfeather stood forward out of the shadows, sword drawn, glaring to the source of the voice. ?We had a deal, Enguardus.? Sootfeather moved his eyes along with every movement the sorceress made down the staircase. She finally stopped when arriving at a small table with a large vase. She carefully poured cordial into a glass and sipped. ?Deal, Sooty?? she said in an almost innocent tone. ?I believe our deal was that I would protect your town while you were gone.? She grinned, the red wine dripping from her beautiful teeth like the blood a vampire drinks for succulence. ?You didn?t protect it,? Sootfeather snapped. ?You destroyed it while I was away, when I could be completely oblivious to your actions.? Then his mind began to wander to more important matters. ?My sister, you didn?t-? ?They were all innocent lives, Sootfeather,? the queen spoke, pouring another glass of cordial. ?Your sister is no exception.? Sootfeather charged the sorceress in anger, but was completely stopped in his tracks. He felt the effort to move his limbs but they didn?t go. He was hovering above the ground, powerless to Enguardus? magic. ?Don?t be a fool, Sootfeather. You may be the strongest swordsman Rutdagger had, but your pitiful abilities are no match for my black magic.? She tossed him to the floor, causing him to drop his sword to the side and crash into the wall. Spikes protruding from the gothic designs of her castle pierced his skin on impact. He let out a shriek of pain. Enguardus placed down her glass and waltzed over to her victim. She knelt beside her prey and made a fake grimace. ?Poor Sootfeather,? she said, running a gentle hand across his face. ?You?ve been hurt. Unfortunately, I haven?t been able to cast healing magic for quite some time now.? She stood back up and traversed around his limp form. ?I disposed of Rutdagger for the resources in the soil. As we speak, my army is building a mine under where your city?s remains are present.? Sootfeather glared upward with all the effort he had. ?You could?ve left us be. You could?ve dug under without bothering our village.? ?Aww,? she whimpered for his sake. ?I?m sorry, Sootfeather. I didn?t think of that.? She turned back to him. ?Or perhaps I did. I knew your greedy little mayor and government board would want some of the payment for digging under your town of Rutdagger. Disposing of any of your likes was the simplest yet.? She took up her staff once again and twirled it in her hands effortlessly. ?As for you, Sootfeather,? she smirked, ?I have no more use for you. You have lost everything you love, everyone you love, and now you?ll lose yourself.? A quick bolt to his heart was all it took. The magic mended his wounds slowly and painlessly. A droll laugh uttered from deep within Sootfeather?s throat. She had healed him! He stood up, looking at the holes in his clothes and noted that the injuries that had once accompanied them were gone. ?You fool, Enguardus,? he said, taking up his sword again, ?you have healed me when you meant to kill me. This will surely be your downfall.? ?Is that so?? she said wryly. Sootfeather dropped his sword. His bones cracked, his neck twisted. The most excruciating pain that could be known to anyone was occurring in his body. He coughed harshly and gasped for air. His arm began to bend causing him to wince in horror as it broke, then readjusted to a new form. He grew hair, his eyes were envisioned like they were bursting, and his whole being felt as if it was reconstructing. He lost consciousness somewhere after he felt something protrude from his backend. He awoke from unclear dreams only to find a plain of beautiful grass and a large, open blue sky. He scrambled about for balance, but found he was suffering some sort of paralyzation aftermath. He noted standing on two feet wasn?t the same feeling as it used to be. His vision was too blurry to make a decent recognition of the area around him anyways. It felt like grass under his paws, but he wasn?t sure. Paws?! His sight cleared only to reveal the horror that was he. Was it possible? Maybe this was the dream still or perhaps his vision hadn?t cleared and his mind and eyes were playing silly tricks on him. He tried standing again, but it was no use. He found walking on all fours exceptionally easy. His mind raced, his heart sank. He began to feel faint again and dropped back down unconscious. When he awakes again, he?d figure out that this was no dream, merely a curse. It was the nasty magic of Enguardus who hadn?t the heart to kill off someone as dear to her as Sootfeather, but merely make his life a hell? through cat?s eyes.[/left][/size][/font]

[Revelation]

Lillian Morgan LeFay II Unknown In a land far away, where the snowcapped mountain tops hide against the dark forest, there live a seductive enchantress. So fair and so white is she, capturing the hearts of those who lay eyes upon her, but who of they can say that she is the most beautiful in all the lands? For where the babbling waters flow against the white sand beaches, another creature of beauty makes her stay. An elegant siren basks underneath the fiery sun. These two creatures make their appearance where all could see, yet all think them to be rivals of the lands, never knowing them to be companions, allies, friends. They never knew them to coincide with each others' presence. They never knew them. And this is their story. Kisses of Sunshine Hidden in their place of conference, the enchantress recoiled into a throne of stone, while the siren took her seat upon a chair of vines. The two engaged into conversation, telling stories that they have heard, the people they had seen, and the things they told. Each night they retreated into this secret place and told of their days. The enchantress would tell of who would come down to ask for advice or magic potions, while the siren told of those who came down to capture her or wander off into her domain. This night was different. Their stories were not the same as the usual nights. One had a different story to tell, a thought that ran through their mind for quite some time. That one was the enchantress. Envy consumed her and her conscience was stolen by it. Nothing could get past this jealousy within her. The siren never knew of this and was not ready to reply. [B]"My dearest sister, Serena, you seem troubled. What bothers you today?"[/B] The enchantress said nothing. She merely smiled and replied, [B]"I am quite alright. I am only tired and weary from my day. 'Tis nothing to worry about." "But I worry about you sometimes, Serena. Lately you have not been as joyful."[/B] A worried tone escaped the siren's voice. It was shown that her concern was setting in. [B]"Please, tell me what troubles you so?"[/B] Hesitating, Serena did not wish to say anything, yet it was her sister's concern for her that allowed her to tell her of her distressed mind. [B]"Darling Illia, there is much to do with envy than there is to love. It hurts me so to keep in the dark forest where I am alone, while you prance around outside underneath the burning circle. 'Tis pain for me to see this sight, to know this. I long to be quite like you, but I know that the gods have made me this way and it will never be." "Oh, my. The stars were correct. I do not know what to say, my sister. All I know is that if you allow yourself to feel this way hatred may step in between us and we may never be known as the beauties of the night and day, the princesses of darkness and light, the everlasting magick and infinite song. We shall never be known as two of the truest sisters of Olympia. Would you wish that?"[/B] Silence hung in the air as the two sisters sat in their thrones. Each had nothing to say, each did not know what to say, and each did not know. Illia the Siren was empathetic, passive, and understanding to everything her sister felt. If she was hurt, Illia felt it. It was as if Illia took the sorrow, the pain, the anger on herself, while her sister merely expressed it. Serena the Enchantress, on the other hand, was aggressive, protective, and apathetic, the complete opposite of Illia. While Illia was emotional in all that she did, Serena was physical. Nothing they did or said was nearly quite the same, but their minds thought alike, their hearts were alike, and they were a one of a kind pair. It was hard to find sisters like these, where one ability coincided with the other. As the years passed by, Serena gradually left the dark forest to become known as the Lady of the Forest and Illia became known as the Lady of the Lake. They lived in peace as they did before. Never arguing, never fighting, always coexisting with each other. Their story was to bring happiness and understanding, to show their compassion for each other's love. How one difference could have brought down an entire relationship, but also how one voice could make others see. In a land far away, where the snowcapped mountain tops hide against the dark forest and the babbling waters flow against the white sand beaches, the sun does not give more light to one place or less light, it is all equal and underneath the sun lives two sisters who live in harmony and accept the kisses of the sunshine in a land faraway underneath the sun.

[Sara]

Charlotte "Lotte" Hassenpflug Hanau, Germany ----------A young businesswoman with dark hair and grey eyes, Charlotte's trade is stories. She buys them, she sells them, but most importantly...she collects them. She is field worker, executive, and sole employee of an organization called [i]The Anansi Project[/i], created for the purpose of funding her hobby. ---------- "[i]Do you know the story of Nyame?[/i]" The question was sudden, unexpected, intense. Jakob Muller was sweating, staring at the woman sitting across from him, leaning in toward him--leaning in over [i]his[/i] desk, looking every inch the powerful predator. And, against all reason, the young, upwardly-mobile business executive felt--for all the world--like he might be her dinner. She'd been in his office less than three minutes. He'd known she was coming. He'd been [i]prepping.[/i] Planning for the meeting, making sure he was utterly prepared, doing everything possible to avoid what had just happened. He was off guard, and she was in complete control. Again. When she'd come to the door, she had not announced herself, greeted him, or shaken hands. The breach of etiquette was faintly unnerving, and Jakob had not been sure how to react. Finally, the young man had cleared his throat, aware of the awkward silence between the woman and himself. He tapped his stack of papers against the desk, evening the edges...it was unnecessary. Not only were the papers meticulously ordered and even...it was third time he had done so in the last forty seconds. The woman still stood by the door, looking around the small office with distaste. Jakob coughed again, attracting her attention. "Frau Hassenpflug?" he prompted, rising to shake her hand. The woman smiled coldly as she returned the handshake. "Herr Muller." Jakob Muller felt slightly warm, and dropped his arm to his side as he sank gratefully back behind the safety of his desk. "Yes, well, ahem." He paused. "Well. As you know, my employer values your time, and we appreciate that you have taken us up on our invitation to learn more about your business. Mm." He paused. Jakob felt her watching him, waiting for his next pratised sentence. He [i]had[/i] practiced...his colleagues had warned him. [i]Know what you're going to say. Just say it. Don't improvise, you'll never get want you want from her.[/i] But now that it came down to it, looking at the dark woman before him, he almost didn't know if he had the courage to question her. "Well, you see, that is...Well...While we certainly [i]appreciate[/i] what you do, and are happy to sponsor your organization, naturally, of course, more than happy...the question has come up, well, er..." Charlotte Hassenpflug watched him with even grey eyes. He took a deep breath, and the last sentence tumbled out in a rush: "Just [i]what[/i] is it, exactly, that you do?" And then her question: [i]Do you know the story of Nyame?[/i] And then her answer. "Nyame is the name of God," she said quietly. "There were once no stories on earth, for Nyame kept them to himself in heaven. When he did not use them, they sat in a locked wooden box next to his throne. "[i]Anansi[/i], the trickster, the spider, spun a web to heaven. "He spun a web to [i]heaven[/i], Herr Müller, to ask the price for Nyame's stories. Bold little spider. He climbed up to heaven, and asked Nyame for the stories. And do you know what Nyame did?" Jakob Müller found himself frozen in place, listening to the woman who told stories with such ferocity. "[i]He laughed.[/i] God laughed at the little spider who wanted to hold the world's stories in his hands. He laughed...[i]but he agreed.[/i] 'This is the price for my stories, little spider,' he said. And he named three impossible tasks. " 'Bring me Osebo, the leopard of the terrible teeth. Bring me Mbolo, the hornets who sting like fire. Bring me Mwatiya, the fairy whom men never see. " 'If you do these things for me,' Nyame said, 'I will [i]give[/i] you the stories.' "Many men had died trying to pay Nyame's price for his stories. "Against all odds, through cunning and trickery, Anansi [i]completed[/i] the tasks. He tricked [i]Osebo[/i], he tricked [i]Mbolo[/i], and he tricked [i]Mwatiya[/i]. He spun them in a web and climbed back to heaven to pay Nyame for his stories. "When Nyame saw that little Anansi had returned, he laughed again. But the spider had paid the price for the stories, and the sky-god gave them to him. Anansi took the wooden box, and began climbing back down to earth. "But as he climbed, the box slipped from his back, and fell far to the ground. The lock broke open, and the lid fell away. "And the stories, no longer under lock and key, scattered far across the earth, to be found and told by storytellers everywhere." There was a breathless pause in her speech as she regained composure from her dramatic tale. "So you see," she finished, "you [i]do[/i] know the stories of Nyame." And she walked out of the office, leaving Jakob Müller alone.

[Zidargh]

[center][font=trebuchet MS][b]Name:[/b] Hojo Yi

[b]Place of Origin:[/b] Kyoto, Japan

[b]Brief:[/b] Born under his father, Motoshida Yi, whom was serving under the feudal lord, Leyasu Tokugawa, Hojo was brought up by the strict codes of priesthood. Once his father passed away, Hojo prolonged the life of his family?s name as a samurai bodyguard for Leyasu Tokugawa himself.

[b][u]Those Who Haunt The Shadows[/u][/b]

It was the great Battle of Sekigahara?

Lord Tokugawa had received word that Ishida had formed his entire army in order to intercept us at the plains of Sekigahara. This battle was going to decide the fate of who held the upper hand in this feudal conflict.

The rain had fallen at twilight before, leaving the air clear, the grass damp, and the sun blaring through the bright sky. Many soldiers had slipped amongst the grassy knolls and forest suburbs, but were left unharmed for the vegetation comforted their fall. Being the spiritual type, Tokugawa felt that the day had already been decided. Victory for the Tokugawa families.

Yet there was a feeling that lurked in my stomach so. A mixture of adrenalin? and uncertainty.

My part in this battle wasn?t going to be by Tokugawa?s side this time. I was replaced by his niece whom he had always cared for. Despite our efforts, no one could make Tokugawa feel secure as much as she could. Part of the Kunichi (female ninja), her skills were often unrivalled by many. Well, perhaps Heihachi Honda could match up to her with his spear at his side, the Tonbugeri. But that is a story for another day.

Anyway, I was set under the command of Amano Yasukage, serving as a mere unit who were to flank the nearest squadron by ambushing them in the woodland. Despite my arguments, I was bound by the oath my father swore before I was born.

As we marched forward, the random units scattered on the front lines of the Tokugawa army could be seen in the distance, the number of infantry within the units ranged between five hundred, and a thousand. Those men marching forth on their own were on a suicide mission, and they knew it. But as is the way with the Japanese men, loyal to the extreme, and completely stubborn.

As we approached the Sekigahara stream that almost split the lands in half, I began to catch the huge Lake Sekigahara to my distance. Its waters were tranquil, and I knew that Tokugawa was watching it in the event that reinforcements arrived for Ishida.

Suddenly, a voice roared out, ?Infantry and horsemen, halt!?

I hadn?t noticed that we had rifle cavalry behind us until our unit stopped. And whilst I looked around, I noticed that everyone else, with the exception of our General, had petrified like statues, their sights focused on the great, looming mountains to our flank and forward.

The tiny units miles from us continued to march onward to the misty distance ahead. Everyone knew that was where our enemy lurked. And everyone knew that once those units began to step on level ground, the cannonades would begin.

Amano?s voice roared like the white lion, ?Now look ahead of you men! Those who are marching for our Lord are saving not hundreds, but thousands. As soon as you see the first sign of the blitz, break up and charge into the forests to our left. There you will wait once you are in the deepest regions, and wait for my command. ?

Every soldier rallied forth in recognition of the order with their weapon raised above their heads. Including myself.

?And one more thing!? Amano continued. ?Beware of [I]those[/I] who traverse the canopies. Beware of [I]those[/I] who vanish and appear once you are a dead man. Beware of [I]those[/I] who haunt the shadows.?

All men began to stir at the mention of these beings, but there was no time to become hesitant. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

We froze once more, only to listen to the whistle of the iron balls rocket through the warm air, only to tear apart those that opposed them. And with that, we roared like the dragon upon its intruders, turned and charged to the left.

The light ahead grew darker as I entered the woodland. The odd ray broke through the leaves ahead, but apart from that, I was surrounded by an ominous atmosphere.

Despite the amount of men at my side, charging blindly with no goal in mind, I felt an urge to stop, for I knew that [I]we[/I] were the ones heading like lambs to the slaughter.
My armour rattled with every move I made. It?s red and black leather rubbing against each other, whilst the wood plating clicked as my shoulders shook. And as I looked up, I had noticed that the bamboo trees had already seen conflict. Random chunks had been cut out of them, some had been sliced apart altogether.

And as I watched the last rank of men fade off into the mist, I was left alone. I wasn?t quite sure why I stopped, but a gut feeling forced me into this position.

?Come on you coward,? I shouted in anger at myself, hitting my legs in frustration.

And just as my limbs began to cooperate with my spirit, a sudden whistle burst through the dense silence, whilst a flying, silver star zoomed past, cutting my left cheek on its flight. I didn?t flinch.

?Samurai! Run! Rargh!? Called out the fog as a grey-dressed being ran at incredible speeds towards me. Its tanto held to the side as it squatted in its run.

Unsheathing my weapon was the first thing I did in reaction, but then I caught sight of a man with his sword raised above his head with both hands. The cone-like hat on his head indicated that he belonged to my unit.

Suddenly, the grey-being stopped just like that, as if letting the brave soldier catch up. And just as the soldier brought down his sword, the being spun round, slicing the throat of the youth that tried to save me.

Ninja.

I had already plunged my katana into his back by this time.

Dead.

And then, in fear of what I thought was most likely, I charged ahead, into the misty forests where I knew more would be lurking. I should?ve left them with the thought that there were no more of us, but I had to find out for myself.

And there they all were, my entire unit, splayed about amongst the bloody soil. There was evidence of resistance however, as some of the Ninja were on their final breaths as they leant against the trees and plantation, but in comparison, the numbers were very few.

I left that war, only to go to travel the world, I?d forgotten who I was that day. [/font][/center]

P.s: I want a post background...

P.p.s: My [i]Hero[/i] post is nearly done.

[Corey]

[center][b]Allen Linney[/b] [i]California, USA[/i] ???[/center] Allen rubbed his nose. Very dry. Very dry... He'd have to get something to take care of that. Another story was slowly cooking it's way to perfection in the nooks of his mind. Allen leaned back in the old lay-z-boy recliner. His friends were still leaning forward, snorting the white powder off of mirrors, through dollar bills, and into their sinuses where it worked it's magic. He couldn't remember who had brought the stuff tonight, but it didn't matter. Walley leaned back and settled his blearing eyes on Allen. "So," he rubbed his nose, "what's the story tonight?" Allen stroked his chin, letting the coke settle a little more into his mind. "I think you guys'll like it. It's about this kid that has a great adventure." He sniffed, clearing the rest of his sinuses. "Actually," he said with a sly grin, "this kid was me." He smiled from ear to ear as his three friends gaped in awe. "You're shittin' us," Ralph said more or less believing. "No way! Last week you said you had super powers when you were little." Allen smiled at him. "Yeah man, I did. But this is after I lost them." The memories formed in his head as if spun by an invisible loom. He never was sure what was real anymore. Everything he made up in a haze and what actually happened to him was all the same. Neither seemed any more real than the last. "Ok," he looked around. "Anyone want another hit before I get started?" The three of em shook their heads. "Go ahead, man. We're waitin'!" Allen nodded in Lucas' direction and took a few deep breaths to steady his swimming mind. "Here we go. I was walking home from school on day. I went to school at-" "Allen, we all used to go to Burbank. It's where we met, man." Allen glared at Lucas, then broke into a drugged smile. "C'mon man, don't go interrupting me. You know the stories are always better if you just let me tell it." "Sorry Allen." "It's all good Lucas. Anyway, I was on my way home from Burbank and I tripped. So I'm sitting there on the ground cryin' a little because I scraped up my elbow, and I start looking for what I tripped on. There's this purple glass sphere laying in the middle of the sidewalk. Suddenly, there's no more pain in my elbow. I could hear the purple glass speaking to me. It wasn't anything like words, but something more, like it was talking in feelings. And it was talking about happiness and beauty. "So I reached out and grabbed the glass. My entire body felt like it was being turned inside out. I felt like I was falling up and down and left and right all at the same time. Then I opened my eyes and found myself on a beautiful green hill. I must have been taken to some other world. I couldn't smell any of the pollution we have here. The hills continued on forever! As far as the eyes could see. The sky was the most beautiful shade of blue and the clouds a puffy white." Allen opened his eyes to see all his friends with smiles on their faces and eyes closed. "And off in the distance I could see these small pillars of smoke rising into the sky. I walked down the slope and up another. Down the next hill was a little village. I walked down and said hi to the first person I saw. The woman came and took my hand, leading me to her house and inside. "The small hut smelled like cedar and was nice and warm. I asked her what I was doing here. She told me that I was just a visitor, and that I should be treated like a king as long as I was there. She brought me plate after plate of wonderful dishes. Smoked salmon and au gratin potatoes. Pasta with cream sauce and asparagus spears. Some kind of sweet cider and a slice of cherry pie. By the time she stopped bringing food I was stuffed beyond belief. "Then she brought a small piece of cake with purple sauce dribbled over it. The woman looked at me and said it was time I got going. I popped a bite of cake in my mouth and suddenly felt very woozy. The world tipped upside down and suddenly I was back on the sidewalk. I looked around quickly, not sure of what had just happened. A little piece of crumpled purple paper sat to my left. I looked at it and smiled, knowing that it would take someone else where it took me one day." Allen leaned back and crossed his arms. "So what'd you guys think?" They all clapped and Ralph dug another nickel bag out of his pocket. "I think it's time for a little more pep. Then we can go out for burgers or something." Allen smiled and nodded, pulling the dollar bill out of his pocket. He wondered what kind of memory he'd dig up tomorrow night.

[Hevn]

[CENTER]

Strawberry Netherworld They call us Ghosts, and we work for Death. What we do is fetch the souls of the dead. Lead them to heaven or to the fires of hell. And leave them there for eternity, with no one to tell. The Death Stimulator "Step up Mr. Pluto." A young redheaded woman in a sexy nurse uniform winked at Pluto before gesturing him to the technolized throne in front of him. It looked like a virtual reality arcade machine, only more sophisticated. He sat down as the lady reviewed his record. Name ~ Scott Pluto Age ~ 30 Occupation ~ Filthy rich businessman Personality ~ Selfishly arrogant Sin ~ Various cases of rape and murder Death by ~ Bus run down Destination ~ Hell She sneered then turned around to secure the steady customer on his chair. Leaning over, she whispered on his ear, "It?ll be over in 15 minutes. Have fun," then he sealed the man?s face. The last thing the man heard were fading stomps of stilettos then he went to irreality. Pluto found himself in a dark alley full of pauperized waifs and moochers. It disgusted him. They disgusted him. A small fry walked up to him and when she tried to touch him, he kicked her away quit vehemently. Then a woman laid out her soiled hands up to his face begging for anything but he only spewed at her. Nauseated of the stench, he paced out of the alley and ended up in the middle of a road, where a bus running fifty miles per hour ran over him. Darkness took him, and then pure whiteness. As he stood, an image seemed to form from a distance. He looked closely as it came nearer. "You?re the? the nurse." "So I am." "Where am I? Am I dead? Is this heaven?" The lady chortled. "No. This is not heaven, and this is not hell. You are somewhere in the middle of it. The Netherworld. The world of the dead." Pluto was struck with sudden fear. For a minute all he could do was stare in awe and take slow heavy breaths. The lady took his hand and led him to a ferryboat waiting down a narrow river that appeared beyond the fog. Then they sailed. "W?w? where are we going?" His heart was beating uncontrollably. "To your rightful destination." The sailing soon stopped. "This is where you get off Mr. Pluto." And he did so hesitantly. He began his journey along the thin paseo reaching a line of people. Dead people. Dead souls waiting for their final descent down to the raging inferno below them. Helpless and terrified, he waited reluctantly for his turn. Closer and closer he came and soon, in hell?s perpetual fires he started to burn. He felt heat jab through his body like thousand knives. It tore his skin. The unforgiving flames consumed his insides, his head. And for hours and hours he just burned but was never reduced to ashes. He cried and screamed, cried more and screamed more for what seemed like eternity? until the simulation ended. Pluto woke up hyperventilating, perplexed and affrighted. Seeing no one around and hardly caring, he darted out of the building. Outside, Pluto found himself in exactly the same dark alley full of pauperized waifs and moochers as in the simulation. He saw the familiar girl walking up to him. He avoided her stare and looked around confused. An old man glowered at him while the same woman laid out her soiled hands to his face. She too was fixing a weird gaze at him. Soon all of the mendicants were glaring and crowding at him. Panic-stricken and baffled, he started to run out of the alley and ended up in the middle of a road, where a bus running fifty miles per hour ran over him. "So, we meet again Mr. Pluto." I smiled sweetly.

[/CENTER]

Well, at least I hope you liked the story. I got the idea from a movie I saw once. ^_^

[Shy]

[font=trebuchet ms]Sign-ups are now closed. I thank everyone for the [I]amazing[/I] level of support they have given this project so far. I tried my best not only to pick the best sign-ups (which was a difficult task in itself) but to select a diverse group of players and characters. I loved reading each of the sign-ups, and if you ever want to talk about yours or why you weren't selected please feel free to talk to me anytime. So, enough of that then, let me announce the talented storytellers who did make it into ?Vignette.?[/font] [center][size=3][font=georgia][color=white][b]The Storytellers[/b][/font][/size] [FONT=Trebuchet MS][b]Lykos[/b] - [I]Vicky[/I] [b]Gwelldyon[/b] - [I]Heaven?s Cloud[/I] [b]Rail Maximillion[/b] - [I]Alan[/I] [b]Sootfeather[/b] - [I]Dragon Warrior[/I] [b]Marlow[/b] - [I]Siren[/I] [b]Charlotte Hassenpflug[/b] - [I]Lore[/I][/font][/color][/center] [font=trebuchet ms]There you have it, that?s the team. Pretty nifty, eh? It may be a week or so before the actual RPG is created and before then I?d like to set up how posting will work, and address the questions anyone might have. This will be done in the [b]Vignette Underground[/b] thread, to be created soon. Thanks again everyone. I look forward to reading your stories, -Shy[/font]