mossburg1000 wrote:i guess the lady has a "Disease" that keeps her from going out during the day light(that's the official story they give me).
David's a liar. He's just upset that we dragged him out of bed to get a sitrep.
Saginaw, MI Arson Investigation
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Sahra Kane
- Posts: 4
- Joined: Fri Dec 15, 2006 12:10 pm
- Location: Classified
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Celeste Darken
- Posts: 373
- Joined: Mon Feb 27, 2006 11:23 am
- Location: Inside the Darkness
Mistakes . . . attempts to retain sanity
I think these are the way over due, and for that, I apologize. Everyone suggests I not dwell on the past . . . but if that was the case, this would never get done.
This time it was Willie who drove, telling me what he had heard. “Laurie told me that a bunch of kids like to hang at the Hoyt Park after hours and do a bunch of weird stuff,” Willie related while keeping his eyes to the road. “He says they all wear hoods and act all funny. They do it every new moon, but also on other nights. The miscellaneous nights have only about five to twelve of them. But on full moons, they have as many as sixty.”
“Sounds like a cult all right,” I nodded. Then after a moment, I asked, “You found Laurie?”
He shrugged with a nod. “Friendly enough fellow, when he isn’t accusing you of butting into line.”
“Right.”
Willie took us to the park. The parking lot was far from empty; about ten cars were gathered at one corner, small sedans and large pickups were the range in size. All were dark, empty, and silent. Willie parked at the far end away from the others, and we quietly prowled to the edge. On one side of the park grounds was the edge of the zoo, a place set out for picnickers to be precise. The animals were quiet tonight, as though they sensed something amiss. On the other side, a wooded area offered excellent cover. The night was clouded and moonless, and one of the streetlamps along the street to the park was flickering like a candle, making the shadows pulsate across the grounds like groping fingers. There was a slight breeze, tossing about streamers of garbage from the tables and an open dumpster that hadn’t been emptied since Thanksgiving. Not a soul could be seen, but sibilant shuffling and whispering came from the woods, disembodied voices that I couldn’t make out; the conditions were not ideal for humans.
But for prowling vampires, it was perfect.
Yellow lights sparkled from within the treed grounds, turning into beams that periodically broke under the silent watchers. The shadows danced away from the light, in a game of Keep Away remarkably the same way Willie and I would have to do: stay out of sight, but hearing everything. Four men in dark robes over their coats and armed with flashlights tramped into view, talking quietly among themselves. They had red armbands along their biceps.
“You take the far side by the dumpster, Golding,” one said. “I’ll take the picnic grounds and clean up the mess there; don’t want people calling the cops on us because they think we’re doing something we shouldn’t. Keene, check to see if any of the cars were left unlocked. Prichard, take the street. If there’s anybody nosing around, enlighten them.”
They agreed with murmured consent and spread out; there would be just enough time to warn Willie on what I had heard before we were spotted. I quickly did so.
“Take care of them,” I muttered. “But be careful. I’ll take a look around.”
Willie nodded and I took to the darkness, bypassing the men without trouble and without their knowledge, heading into the trees. The gloom was still great within, but its aura was etched in sharp relief to the lights from outside. Dimly through the trees, I could see shapes going to and fro, shadows going from shadow to shadow. They gathered in little groups and parted just as quickly, never seeming to stay in one place for long. This little ritual lasted for about five minutes before they finally started pairing off. I followed a set of three and settled my back to a tree when they paused to speak in low tones.
“The night draws old,” one said, rubbing his mitten-encased hands together. “And we’ve had a month to see this through. We end it tonight, do you hear? Galvanis, you inform Master Sagan that all is going well. Glimmer, I want you to use your powers to get through any of the Cribald’s defenses. From there we’ll . . .”
The speech was odd, almost script-like and difficult to understand, and I wasn’t even certain it was going anywhere. But their plans were interrupted by a man in a dark cloak . . . one of the sentries. I stiffened and listened intently to his words.
“Oh, Sea, See,” he stated solemnly. “Keep a lookout, guys. There’s a girl wandering around here, and she’s not a member. She needs to be found, stat. She’s about eighteen, wearing contacts that make her eyes glow, and her makeup makes her look like she has pointed ears and fangs. Tell one of the guardians if you find her, okay?”
The group immediately acquiesced to his demand.
And the message got me worried. Had they managed to subdue Willie? But why would he give them my description if that was the case? For that matter, how, if they had defeated Willie, had they done it so silently?
I wanted to listen further, but with the notice on my description announced, patience was a virtue I decided to shelve for now. My “invisibility” was nearly undetectable by sight, but there were always those unlucky chances of detection. Besides, the group’s talk of plans was so ambiguous, I feared I miss something important elsewhere. I moved on.
Other groups threaded in and out of the trees, sometimes sitting in a circle and sometimes moving along. All were dressed oddly, but none save the sentries wore black hoods and armbands. No group ever left the confines of the forest. Staying near the perimeters of several of these groups, I listened in closely. Many seemed to be in some sort of bizarre trance of sorts, seeing things and hearing sounds that I could not. A few, like the one I had left, sat and discussed things.
But then I struck an artery. Two of the cultists were hiding behind a particular tree, holding jackknives in hand. Their speech was so low an ordinary human wouldn’t have understood anything. But between some code word of “Oh, Sea, see,” their plans were definite and very relevant to our mission: setting fires to various buildings. I climbed the tree with the silence of opportunity, slipping around the trunk until I was above them, crouched like a cat to spring. I memorized the words they spoke, watching their lips intently.
“I, see,” one abruptly said, the one I faced. He started rubbing his arms as my chill seeped through his bones. “This is our last assignment. Let’s not botch it, or Caravax will have our necks.” He pulled out a small handle from his coat pocket, flicking a switch. A blade snapped out like a spring.
“Let’s go, men,” he said with a malevolent smile. “No mistakes. The Mesitrars are our enemies. They must all be destroyed.” He drew an imaginary line across his throat with the blunt side of his jackknife.
Fearing for the lives of whoever these “Mesitrars” were, I glanced about hurriedly. It was obvious who they were going for: a beeline toward a group wearing the kind of outfits that should be outlawed. Denim jackets down to the knees, belted at the waist with braided, leather belts, balaclavas on their faces, leaving the hoods to their jackets down; some wore shawls, a few men in dresses. Pale mauve armbands seemed to link them all together.
“Semno, ras, 12,” the leader of the assassins spoke quietly. Almost as though he had a code, the ones wearing the armbands turned their backs to him!
I quickly leaped from my perch to a tree to the building the “Mesitrars” used as shelter from the wind. Eyeing the assassins and their victims shrewdly, I timed who would attack first, and maneuvered myself on top of him.
Of course, the one to strike first would be the leader. He raised his jackknife, preparing to strike at one’s back. A slight smirk passed his lips.
Then I dropped in front of him, his wrist falling straight into the palm of my hand.
“No tonight, fool,” I sneered, revealing my fangs. His look of utter shock and horror was momentary, then I thrust him aside. Snarling, I turned to another assassin, who had frozen in fear at my sudden appearance. A display of blood would not be called for here. I lunged for his knife instead of his throat.
But a shadow positioned itself between us, a heavily muscled arm whipping out to block my path. He grunted with the effort required to stop my momentum.
“Cee, no!” he hissed as I wrestled momentarily with him.
“Willie?” I questioned, turning my attention to him directly and feeling my surprise at his incredible strength fade.
“Wrong place, honey,” he said loudly, his eyes pleading for me to play along with him. “This isn’t Requiem.”
I stared, confused.
“Oh, Sea see,” Willie cleared his throat loudly, speaking now to the spectators. “Sorry, guys. My mistake. We’re supposed to be at the Requiem tonight. Wrong place.”
Surprisingly, we got out there with no trouble at all. The animals at the edge of the zoo were making a racket at my presence, but at the moment, I didn’t care. Once we were free to talk, I laid it out thickly.
“What was going on, Long? They were ready to kill someone, in case you didn’t notice!”
“No, they weren’t,” he replied, still walking, his gaze straight.
“They weren’t?” My tone was disbelieving.
“It was a LARP, Cee,” he explained. “Short for Live Action Role Playing. I was trying to get to ya to tell you. Thanks for really cutting back on the action this time. You could have injured an innocent.”
The rest of the night was not noteworthy. Willie needed sleep, and I wanted to scout out the hotel, anyway. The hotel was short and geometrical in shape, nothing extraordinary, especially hunched as it was between two other buildings. Our room was a cozy little place with two beds. Willie rigged the two beds to accommodate my safety during the day, though I wouldn’t sleep. He assured me he would get in touch with his contacts in the morning, and he also assured me they would be a lot more cooperative if he called them around ten or around noon tomorrow, rather than at three in the morning. I watched the alleyway in silent agitation from the fire escape while Willie dozed. The near mistake had narrowly been averted, but the close call left a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt like there had been nothing else I could do. The idiots truly had sounded like they were going to commit murder, those other morons sounded certain they were going to start a fire. It was a mistake anyone could make, I knew, but that didn’t excuse what I could have done had Willie not been there to stop me. It was a stark contrast of what I was now and what I had once been, the attitude adjustment necessary and how my capabilities had altered since my transformation . . . into a vampire. I had thought once I weighed my actions carefully since attaining my will again, but I saw now . . . I wasn’t weighing them carefully enough. When I had been a human, a slap across the face would, if lucky, leave a bruise. Now . . . such a careless action could snap spines and bend steel.
I knew such thinking was dangerous, but my thoughts continued along the comparisons. I used to be a bright, vivacious girl, the “late to bed, early to rise,” sort. I had once greeted the dawn with a cheery smile. Now I am never to bed, avoid the rise. I must flee from the dawn.
Go figure.
This time it was Willie who drove, telling me what he had heard. “Laurie told me that a bunch of kids like to hang at the Hoyt Park after hours and do a bunch of weird stuff,” Willie related while keeping his eyes to the road. “He says they all wear hoods and act all funny. They do it every new moon, but also on other nights. The miscellaneous nights have only about five to twelve of them. But on full moons, they have as many as sixty.”
“Sounds like a cult all right,” I nodded. Then after a moment, I asked, “You found Laurie?”
He shrugged with a nod. “Friendly enough fellow, when he isn’t accusing you of butting into line.”
“Right.”
Willie took us to the park. The parking lot was far from empty; about ten cars were gathered at one corner, small sedans and large pickups were the range in size. All were dark, empty, and silent. Willie parked at the far end away from the others, and we quietly prowled to the edge. On one side of the park grounds was the edge of the zoo, a place set out for picnickers to be precise. The animals were quiet tonight, as though they sensed something amiss. On the other side, a wooded area offered excellent cover. The night was clouded and moonless, and one of the streetlamps along the street to the park was flickering like a candle, making the shadows pulsate across the grounds like groping fingers. There was a slight breeze, tossing about streamers of garbage from the tables and an open dumpster that hadn’t been emptied since Thanksgiving. Not a soul could be seen, but sibilant shuffling and whispering came from the woods, disembodied voices that I couldn’t make out; the conditions were not ideal for humans.
But for prowling vampires, it was perfect.
Yellow lights sparkled from within the treed grounds, turning into beams that periodically broke under the silent watchers. The shadows danced away from the light, in a game of Keep Away remarkably the same way Willie and I would have to do: stay out of sight, but hearing everything. Four men in dark robes over their coats and armed with flashlights tramped into view, talking quietly among themselves. They had red armbands along their biceps.
“You take the far side by the dumpster, Golding,” one said. “I’ll take the picnic grounds and clean up the mess there; don’t want people calling the cops on us because they think we’re doing something we shouldn’t. Keene, check to see if any of the cars were left unlocked. Prichard, take the street. If there’s anybody nosing around, enlighten them.”
They agreed with murmured consent and spread out; there would be just enough time to warn Willie on what I had heard before we were spotted. I quickly did so.
“Take care of them,” I muttered. “But be careful. I’ll take a look around.”
Willie nodded and I took to the darkness, bypassing the men without trouble and without their knowledge, heading into the trees. The gloom was still great within, but its aura was etched in sharp relief to the lights from outside. Dimly through the trees, I could see shapes going to and fro, shadows going from shadow to shadow. They gathered in little groups and parted just as quickly, never seeming to stay in one place for long. This little ritual lasted for about five minutes before they finally started pairing off. I followed a set of three and settled my back to a tree when they paused to speak in low tones.
“The night draws old,” one said, rubbing his mitten-encased hands together. “And we’ve had a month to see this through. We end it tonight, do you hear? Galvanis, you inform Master Sagan that all is going well. Glimmer, I want you to use your powers to get through any of the Cribald’s defenses. From there we’ll . . .”
The speech was odd, almost script-like and difficult to understand, and I wasn’t even certain it was going anywhere. But their plans were interrupted by a man in a dark cloak . . . one of the sentries. I stiffened and listened intently to his words.
“Oh, Sea, See,” he stated solemnly. “Keep a lookout, guys. There’s a girl wandering around here, and she’s not a member. She needs to be found, stat. She’s about eighteen, wearing contacts that make her eyes glow, and her makeup makes her look like she has pointed ears and fangs. Tell one of the guardians if you find her, okay?”
The group immediately acquiesced to his demand.
And the message got me worried. Had they managed to subdue Willie? But why would he give them my description if that was the case? For that matter, how, if they had defeated Willie, had they done it so silently?
I wanted to listen further, but with the notice on my description announced, patience was a virtue I decided to shelve for now. My “invisibility” was nearly undetectable by sight, but there were always those unlucky chances of detection. Besides, the group’s talk of plans was so ambiguous, I feared I miss something important elsewhere. I moved on.
Other groups threaded in and out of the trees, sometimes sitting in a circle and sometimes moving along. All were dressed oddly, but none save the sentries wore black hoods and armbands. No group ever left the confines of the forest. Staying near the perimeters of several of these groups, I listened in closely. Many seemed to be in some sort of bizarre trance of sorts, seeing things and hearing sounds that I could not. A few, like the one I had left, sat and discussed things.
But then I struck an artery. Two of the cultists were hiding behind a particular tree, holding jackknives in hand. Their speech was so low an ordinary human wouldn’t have understood anything. But between some code word of “Oh, Sea, see,” their plans were definite and very relevant to our mission: setting fires to various buildings. I climbed the tree with the silence of opportunity, slipping around the trunk until I was above them, crouched like a cat to spring. I memorized the words they spoke, watching their lips intently.
“I, see,” one abruptly said, the one I faced. He started rubbing his arms as my chill seeped through his bones. “This is our last assignment. Let’s not botch it, or Caravax will have our necks.” He pulled out a small handle from his coat pocket, flicking a switch. A blade snapped out like a spring.
“Let’s go, men,” he said with a malevolent smile. “No mistakes. The Mesitrars are our enemies. They must all be destroyed.” He drew an imaginary line across his throat with the blunt side of his jackknife.
Fearing for the lives of whoever these “Mesitrars” were, I glanced about hurriedly. It was obvious who they were going for: a beeline toward a group wearing the kind of outfits that should be outlawed. Denim jackets down to the knees, belted at the waist with braided, leather belts, balaclavas on their faces, leaving the hoods to their jackets down; some wore shawls, a few men in dresses. Pale mauve armbands seemed to link them all together.
“Semno, ras, 12,” the leader of the assassins spoke quietly. Almost as though he had a code, the ones wearing the armbands turned their backs to him!
I quickly leaped from my perch to a tree to the building the “Mesitrars” used as shelter from the wind. Eyeing the assassins and their victims shrewdly, I timed who would attack first, and maneuvered myself on top of him.
Of course, the one to strike first would be the leader. He raised his jackknife, preparing to strike at one’s back. A slight smirk passed his lips.
Then I dropped in front of him, his wrist falling straight into the palm of my hand.
“No tonight, fool,” I sneered, revealing my fangs. His look of utter shock and horror was momentary, then I thrust him aside. Snarling, I turned to another assassin, who had frozen in fear at my sudden appearance. A display of blood would not be called for here. I lunged for his knife instead of his throat.
But a shadow positioned itself between us, a heavily muscled arm whipping out to block my path. He grunted with the effort required to stop my momentum.
“Cee, no!” he hissed as I wrestled momentarily with him.
“Willie?” I questioned, turning my attention to him directly and feeling my surprise at his incredible strength fade.
“Wrong place, honey,” he said loudly, his eyes pleading for me to play along with him. “This isn’t Requiem.”
I stared, confused.
“Oh, Sea see,” Willie cleared his throat loudly, speaking now to the spectators. “Sorry, guys. My mistake. We’re supposed to be at the Requiem tonight. Wrong place.”
Surprisingly, we got out there with no trouble at all. The animals at the edge of the zoo were making a racket at my presence, but at the moment, I didn’t care. Once we were free to talk, I laid it out thickly.
“What was going on, Long? They were ready to kill someone, in case you didn’t notice!”
“No, they weren’t,” he replied, still walking, his gaze straight.
“They weren’t?” My tone was disbelieving.
“It was a LARP, Cee,” he explained. “Short for Live Action Role Playing. I was trying to get to ya to tell you. Thanks for really cutting back on the action this time. You could have injured an innocent.”
The rest of the night was not noteworthy. Willie needed sleep, and I wanted to scout out the hotel, anyway. The hotel was short and geometrical in shape, nothing extraordinary, especially hunched as it was between two other buildings. Our room was a cozy little place with two beds. Willie rigged the two beds to accommodate my safety during the day, though I wouldn’t sleep. He assured me he would get in touch with his contacts in the morning, and he also assured me they would be a lot more cooperative if he called them around ten or around noon tomorrow, rather than at three in the morning. I watched the alleyway in silent agitation from the fire escape while Willie dozed. The near mistake had narrowly been averted, but the close call left a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt like there had been nothing else I could do. The idiots truly had sounded like they were going to commit murder, those other morons sounded certain they were going to start a fire. It was a mistake anyone could make, I knew, but that didn’t excuse what I could have done had Willie not been there to stop me. It was a stark contrast of what I was now and what I had once been, the attitude adjustment necessary and how my capabilities had altered since my transformation . . . into a vampire. I had thought once I weighed my actions carefully since attaining my will again, but I saw now . . . I wasn’t weighing them carefully enough. When I had been a human, a slap across the face would, if lucky, leave a bruise. Now . . . such a careless action could snap spines and bend steel.
I knew such thinking was dangerous, but my thoughts continued along the comparisons. I used to be a bright, vivacious girl, the “late to bed, early to rise,” sort. I had once greeted the dawn with a cheery smile. Now I am never to bed, avoid the rise. I must flee from the dawn.
Go figure.
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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Willie Long
- Posts: 495
- Joined: Tue May 17, 2005 11:08 am
- Location: East Chicago
- Contact:
Bert_the_Turtle wrote:I'd just like to have seen those clowns get their collective ass kicked firsthand.
Naw, Jack, what you would have liked to see was the look on their face when Cee and I picked up their SUV and turned it upside down while they were inside.
Lazlo Field Agent
More Qi! Train Harder!
http://usashaolintemple.org/
More Qi! Train Harder!
http://usashaolintemple.org/
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Bert_the_Turtle
- Posts: 3618
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2006 8:50 pm
- Location: In Between the Supernatural and the Innocent
"Naw, Jack, what you would have liked to see was the look on their face when Cee and I picked up their SUV and turned it upside down while they were inside."
Oh, that's priceless. Hahahaha!
Celeste:
Anyone could have made that sort of mistake. And that's why, as you learned, its very important to be sure about what you're getting into before doing anything.
Next time, consider just grabbing some poor slob from behind and asking him. I don't think most people would lie to you if you do it right.
Oh, that's priceless. Hahahaha!
Celeste:
Anyone could have made that sort of mistake. And that's why, as you learned, its very important to be sure about what you're getting into before doing anything.
Next time, consider just grabbing some poor slob from behind and asking him. I don't think most people would lie to you if you do it right.
Dym, Ваша боль будет вечна
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
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Willie Long
- Posts: 495
- Joined: Tue May 17, 2005 11:08 am
- Location: East Chicago
- Contact:
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
You know, still not givin' a damn. You are a pathetic looser with nothing better to do than harass the good folks here at Lazlo. If you pulled off the crap you say you did, then prove it. if you say you can wack Ron, then do it. Personally even if yo found him he'ld beat the bloody piss out of you, then double cap you for shits & giggles. Your a nut case that needs help, like 30 cc's of Thorizine, or maybe shock therapy.
So until then jackass, go away.
So until then jackass, go away.
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
Umm...
Umm.... Electro-shock therapy usually makes things worse.... or a loon's acting skills better... (Negative reinforcement and all)
Secrets and secrets, truth and lies, but which is which? Not knowing is the way to die.
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Willie Long
- Posts: 495
- Joined: Tue May 17, 2005 11:08 am
- Location: East Chicago
- Contact:
Holister wrote:What's Up Willie, hows it goin'.
Did ya know that Willie Wonka lost one of his Umpa Lumpas. Wonder if there is a reward for his return. *-)
If it wasn't for a frontin' punk-ass bitch I'd be straight.
Would you reward someone for returning this cat to your county, Sheriff, or lock him up for littering?
Lazlo Field Agent
More Qi! Train Harder!
http://usashaolintemple.org/
More Qi! Train Harder!
http://usashaolintemple.org/
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
-
NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
Holister wrote:You know, still not givin' a damn. You are a pathetic looser with nothing better to do than harass the good folks here at Lazlo. If you pulled off the crap you say you did, then prove it. if you say you can wack Ron, then do it. Personally even if yo found him he'ld beat the bloody piss out of you, then double cap you for shits & giggles. Your a nut case that needs help, like 30 cc's of Thorizine, or maybe shock therapy.
So until then jackass, go away.
I'll be in his dreams in a few minutes. Also, calling me names is not making me go away. You give me strength with your taunts chowdermouth.
Feel my power. Fear my wrath. The Red Devil is on the warpath.
You all stuck your noses in my business in saginaw. You should not have meddled. There is only one way to get rid of me. And NO one here knows....
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Celeste Darken
- Posts: 373
- Joined: Mon Feb 27, 2006 11:23 am
- Location: Inside the Darkness
The poultry that knew too little
NAIN ROUGE wrote:Stay clear of Brightmoor willie.
You know too much.
And you too little, Nain. You are either warning him while backing away in fear or making a very big mistake.
Probably both. I've watched your antics with a mixture of humor and disbelief. We have yet to see you actually do something. You seem content to blow raspberries and flash various fingers. I suggest you leave while you can. If you finally do act, you will be destroyed. If you continue down this line of mocking, you will end up messing with something far more powerful than you.
Like Willie.
If you're so intent on taking a bite too large for your voracious mouth, take him on. I would enjoy watching Sifu pound you into the ground. And if you can bring your stomach and intestines into the action, try taunting me. What, will I be next to “suffer” your wrath? I am immortal, so unlike the others, I can actually wait for that to happen without dying from old age.
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
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Celeste Darken
- Posts: 373
- Joined: Mon Feb 27, 2006 11:23 am
- Location: Inside the Darkness
I'm waiting
I'm waiting. Are you going to disappoint me?
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
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Bert_the_Turtle
- Posts: 3618
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2006 8:50 pm
- Location: In Between the Supernatural and the Innocent
Re: I'm waiting
Celeste Darken wrote:I'm waiting. Are you going to disappoint me?
Something tells me he's used to disappointing the women in his life.
Dym, Ваша боль будет вечна
Re:
Seems he falls short in all departments. No wonder he's the angry red inch!
Secrets and secrets, truth and lies, but which is which? Not knowing is the way to die.
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Shang Li
- Posts: 753
- Joined: Mon May 22, 2006 1:42 pm
- Location: Nowhere, Everywhere, I am unsure how to explain it
Where and when bokokoro? (damned american keyboards)
You want a challenge?
I Challenge you bokokoro.
I deem you to be a flawed blade.
Your might at it's highest cannot match the power of a single falling cherry blossom.
I declare you Eta, oath-spewer.
You want a challenge?
I Challenge you bokokoro.
I deem you to be a flawed blade.
Your might at it's highest cannot match the power of a single falling cherry blossom.
I declare you Eta, oath-spewer.
Understanding, is not a thing that comes swiftly, but rather in stages, a journey that once begun, must be seen to it's end.
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Celeste Darken
- Posts: 373
- Joined: Mon Feb 27, 2006 11:23 am
- Location: Inside the Darkness
And so am I
NAIN ROUGE wrote:Oh I'm here.
Pack of Hellhounds at your feet , Vamperilla.......
Destroying twelve Hell Hounds . . . while trying to conduct some research in a library closed for the night . . . is an interesting activity.
I’ll let everyone conduct their own hypotheses on how the encounter went.
However, I will mention that the pack mentioned is at my fee. Or wast; one Hell Hound got away.
But I am still here, Nain. And doing well.
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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NAIN ROUGE
- Posts: 64
- Joined: Mon Oct 23, 2006 4:30 pm
- Location: Detoi'
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Shadowstalker
- Posts: 2793
- Joined: Fri Jul 01, 2005 11:46 pm
- Location: Where needed
