Zephyr

Strikes me as someone either opposed to normal cultrual cross-mixing/evolution. After having been to japan over the summer I almost feel like asking the writer what her opinon is pertaining to the "Americanization" of the youth of Japan. While many of us here in America are taking an interest in Japan, and even emulating it, a similar event is taking place with the youth in Japan taking an interest in America. (I will admit some opposistion to that, since I do not wish to see a polite nation take up the behaviors of Americans) I can see, to a degree, where the writer was coming from on it. Americans do have a habit to taking our interest in things in the wrong directions. Many of the "posterboys" for Japan fandom are seen as being at the extreme. They are more interested in the karate, katanas, anime, pop music, sushi, and several other mainstream things. However, I feel the writer may have forgotten that there are many more, less vocal, people who are interested in the culture, language, art, history, and many other important ideas, to some degree. Of course, the problem may just be the American habit of taking things too far, as my friend would agree to everytime I use the American-style of a British accent (completely false, and rather annoying). :p

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Too much happening the last few days. Wesley held a hand up to the side of his face as the wind whipped through the wasteland at the edge of the Grand Grounds. Most people would not bother going this far out from the closest thing to paradise this world had left, but at least out here Wesley and Ariel were safer from the army and other Furians. A low rumbling reminded him of the downside of this area, the lack of food sources. Deciding it was a bad idea to go much longer without food, Wesley made his way into a nearby building, which was little more than a burned husk by now. Once inside the building Wesley reached into the pouch on his hip and pulled out a small bag of dried meats. He handed a piece to Ariel, who sat beside him and began to eat. "Sorry about this, Ariel. Tomorrow we will find something better to eat." It was a lie, there was little to eat out here anyway. For now the two would have to survive as long a possible on whatever they could get. This did little to faze Ariel, who merely smiled sweetly and returned to eating. [i]Maybe we should risk a trip deeper into the Grounds. Our supplies are running thin.[/i] "Having trouble with food as of late?" A voice echoed from the darkness. Wesley was on his feet in a second, guarding Ariel as best he could. "My sponsor could help you with that. They are quiet accomodating to those who cooperate." "And just who would this sponsor be?" Wesley could really have cared less, he just wanted to find the voice's owner. "That would be the military," the reply was flat, as though expecting immediate refusal. "They happen to be very friendly to cooperative Furians, like the ones that have led me to you just this morning." "What would I have get out of this deal? And what would I have to do?" "They will provide you with a means to survive. Food, shelter, clothing. As much as you two need. All you have to do, is help them get to other Furians. Think about it for a day. I will find you tomorrow for your answer." With that the voice faded, and everything returned to the way it was before the voice had appeared. Ariel dangled her feet off the edge of the bench she was sitting on, as Wesley took a spot next to her. "Everything we need to survive, huh?" Wesley spoke in a low thoughful tone. OOC: For now I am setting up my character as a bad guy, but since he lives for his own purpose, and to protect Ariel, that is likely to change. This is really just a way for the characters to meet.

OOC: Okay, Alpha gave the go-ahead for my idea. Just let me know if you want something adjusted, Alpha. Name: Wesley Halpern Age: 20 Gender: Male Good or bad: Indifferent (fights for his own beliefs, let me know if this is a problem) Psychotic attack: Feather Dance. This attack?s name is as deceptive as it is deadly. By focusing his mind, Wesley can create a torrent of high-velocity projectiles in the air around a diameter of about 20ft. Normally he carries a set of metal spheres for this task, but lacking those he can create projectiles from surrounding objects. Appearance: Wesley is approximately 5? 10? tall, and has a rather thin build. His eyes are dark green, and his hair is raven black. Slight muscle tone hints at years of surviving on his own. His arms and legs are long for someone of his height. Wesley?s normal attire is a ragged black T-shirt and light blue jeans. He also dons heavy boots and a light tan cloak, with a high collar, to survive the harsh environment. On his right leg is a pouch used to carry his metal projectiles, and other small items he may need. Personality: Calm, patient, and rather quiet. He normally keeps to himself, but has a strong bond with a human name Ariel. This girl is also his weak point, as his temper will flare if anyone threatens her. He prefers not to use his psychotic attack, but shows a cold, emotionless side when he is forced to. Other minor techniques: Longbow (single-shot projectile at long range) and Shield (small protective barrier formed of small objects, can be stationary or moving like Feather Dance) other info: Accompanied by a young human named Ariel. Wesley killed her parents, believing they were soldiers after his life. He took Ariel and began to raise her as his daughter in atonement for his act. Name: Ariel (real name unknown, named by Wesley) Age: 5 Gender: Female Good or bad: Good (though too young to pick any side) Psychotic attack: None Appearance: Ariel stands about normal height for a 5 year old child (not sure how tall that is). Her hair is a very light blonde, and her eyes are almost grey in color. She wears a white dress that is discolored by dirt, and showing signs of wear and tear. Unlike Wesley, she wears regular walking shoes that are still in decent shape. When outside she dons a cloak, similar to Wesley?s, which has an added hood to protect her young face from the sun and weather. Personality: Very cheerful and playful. It seems that nothing puts her in a bad mood or makes her sad. She is also quite shy, and will stay behind Wesley when around new people. Ariel is strictly obedient to Wesley, and will follow his instructions without hesitation. Other minor techniques: None other info: As mentioned, Ariel is completely human. One unusual aspect about her is her lack of speech. It is unknown if she cannot speak, or chooses not to, but regardless, Wesley seems to understand her well enough. She knows of her parents? murder at Wesley?s hands, but this does not seem to stop her from behaving as his daughter.

As was his style, Kyouta sat back as everyone else decided on the truce, and answered in turn. He really could care less what anyone else was saying, and zoned out as he ignored them. Finally, everyone else looked his way, as he had been the only one not to answer. "Well, Kyouta?" Toshi chimed in. "Well what?" was his only responce. "Will you agree to the truce? No killing each other, and work to stop the Underground tournaments?" "One condition," he replied, drawning a look of irritation from the others. "No one gets in my way. Stop me from having fun with other fighters, or hinder my actions in any way and I will kill you." "Why do you have to be so stubborn, Kanno?" Shun jumped in before Toshi could. "Those are my terms. You can ignore them if you like, but it will void my end of the truce." With that he stood and walked out of the resturaunt. [center]---***---[/center] The next day Kyouta showed up for school on time, which only happened on days the fights were held. He was greated by the news that an early fight was to be set today, and felt a jolt of excitement shoot up his spine. Kyouta appeared at the staging area for the fights and removed all articles of clothing as instructed. The only things he was allowed to keep were the earring he took from his last fight and his flute, which hung from his neck by a small cord. Reaching up, Kyouta rubbed the crystal in his earring and spoke quietly. "Maybe you will have a companion soon, Touka." With a grin on his face Kyouta was let into the maze. Upon entering he raised the flute to his lips and began to play his "Banshee's Call," the melody infamous in among the students. To the smart fighters the song was a warning, but it served as a beacon to the foolish. Maybe today he would lure in someone as fun to play with as Touka had been. OOC: I think I should clarify my character's posistion a bit. He has agreed to avoid killing the rest of the group, but he is not going to tolerate any of them who try to stop him from killing altogether. Since he gets pleasure from the fights he is not going to give up on them completely.

Ah yes, that font flows much better. Thank you for the hard work, Illusion. I truly appreciate it.

Inuyasha. How about a more interesting anime title? Submission: LEFNE DLIE Hint: Anyone seen my Lucy plushie? ;)

A somber flute melody could be heard through the streets as Kyouta walked through the neighborhood. Normally he would have no reason to even be here, but a letter he found stuffed in his locker gave him a purpose. Pausing for a moment, he checked the letter once more. [i]Kyouta, given the incident today I was unable to speak with you directly. However, the group you met earlier is meeting to discuss an issue related to the Underground fights. Show up at the address below after school, or don't. It is your choice. --Toshi[/i] Kyouta growled quietly at the arrogance of the letter, but pressed forward with his flute quietly playing. It seemed that the sound was a familiar one, because he was instantly greeted by Toshi before he could even reach the door. "So, you decided to show up after all." "Yeah, you see I got this arrogant letter about the Underground, and figured that if my time was wasted I could just maim the sender as compensation." Toshi did not seem to find the humor in the joke, not that many could tell if Kyouta ever made joking statements. Without another word Toshi waved him in and shut the door. Inside Kyouta was faced with the group from the gym earlier, with an extra face among the crowd. The only one Kyouta acknowledged was Destovi, who he nodded to before leaning against the nearest wall with his arms crossed. "So," Shun broke the silence first, "back the the question you so artfully dodged. Who left the marks on your neck?" It seemed that Kyouta had entered in the middle of an interesting conversation already.

Wow, great work, Illusion. I really like them, and you did pick the right character. I just have one small change to ask for. Can you pick a different font, and apply it to number two? The current font is somewhat hard to read. Thank you.

I would like to request someone to make a banner from Boogiepop Phantom. In specific here is what I would like: --An image of Boogiepop in the center, preferably the real (Touka) Boogiepop, and not the Manticore-faced Boogiepop (If you have no idea what I mean, then either works) --A backgroud of the "Butterflies of Light" that Manaka creates --The word "Shinigami" in the upper-left corner, and the word "Noir" in the lower-right corner I greatly appriciate anyone who would be willing to help out. Thank you in advance.

Kyouta slammed into the wall across from the security office as he was literally tossed out. His face showed that he had been roughed up a bit, but that is what happens when you try to cover up another's crime. As the door closed he spat at it, a line of reddened saliva ran down the words placed on the front. Pushing off of the wall, Kyouta made his way out of the school. "Kyo-kun!" As the words were spoken Kyouta's mood changed from slightly smug at pissing off the security officers, to irritation. Even without the annoying, high-pitch voice it was obvious who had called him just from the way she said it. Naoko Kamikishiro, one of Kyouta's old "toys" that failed to get the hint that it no longer amused him. The only thing worse than how dense she happened to be, was how she insisted on clinging to him everytime. "What do you want this time, Naoko?" Not that he had to ask, she was too predictable. She even attempted to use a sad puppy look, hoping to dig up some shread of his sympathy. "You no longer hang out with me," she spoke in a false sadness. "And you never make me feel good any more. How come?" "You no longer interest me. Just too boring." Kyouta did not even try to look like he cared. "Leave now, and stay away." "NO! I wont!" Naoko clung even harder to his arm. "I'll nev..." before she could complete the sentence Kyouta grabbed her by the thoat and held her against the wall, in plain view of the entire school. She was easily three inched off the ground, and had his thumb and index finger digging into her windpipe. Oddly enough, she put up no struggle, and had a look of ecstasy in her eyes. Naoko was a masochist, and seemed to thrive on Kyouta's sadistic nature. A few seconds before she would have passed out Kyouta let go, and Naoko fell to the ground. "That is the last time. Leave." "No," she gasped weakly. Naoko crawled forward and made one last grasp for Kyouta. A swift kick to the chest stopped her, and smashed her back into the wall. Kyouta simply turned and walked away. OOC: Well, now that we have established a bit more of my character's sadistic ways.... Besides, everyone else has had their own "interesting" relations. :D

OOC: Ahh. Everytime I get here the page count jumps. So much to catch up on. Lilt, I still have not thought of a good way to get my character as part of the group, but Destovi's post gives me an idea. Not suprisingly, Kyouta was more than late for class today, again. By the look of the clock as he made his way in, it was well into the middle of his gym class. For one he actually felt like joining in. Maybe he could find someone to "entertain" himself with. Of course, by now most people shied away, for fear of broken bones, if they were lucky. As he entered the gym, not bothering to change into uniform, he heard a low whisper from the students. This did not bother him normally, however today he was not the cause. In the center of the gym was a rare, and interesting sight. A student holding his own against the teacher. It proved to be rather disappointing when the student finally won the fight, because Kyouta wanted to see some real bloodshed. Immediately after the incident several students went rushing out of the gym. No one wanted to be at the scene of a murdered teacher, and that is how the school would spin it to their adavantage. Among the group that stayed Kyouta noticed the same girl from the roof yesterday. Unlike the rest of the students, he actually approached the body and inspected it, while the rest of the group gathered around the boy who had killed the teacher. "Heh," Kyouta sounded after a second or two, a small grin on his face. The group looked at him as he rose. "Fine work, but you should drag it out next time..." he approached and whispered to the one who has fought, "...it really adds to the pleasure of things." "Knock it off, Kanno. Quit passing your mental issues on to others." Kyouta did not know the name of the one who chastised him, but he did know this person was awfully friendly with Toshi. Kyouta just laughed at this. "No fun." With that he turned to look at the student who had been the center of attention. "It is rare to find someone I might be able to respect. I guess I should do something equally as rare." There was a short pause, mostly for effect, and to see the others worry a bit. "Name's Kyouta, what's yours?" OOC: Okay, writing this gave me another idea. You can probably blame my character for the teacher. He hates the staff, and likes to piss them off anyway.

Adult swim has brought some really great onto the the air. Sealab 2021: The best. Nothing beat the original seasons, before the voice actor for Murphy passed away. "I bet your Lymph nodes are as big as cats." Robot Chicken: This one makes me wish I had all of my G.I. Joes from childhood, a camera, and a lot of alcohol. The writers are either the greatest intellect on Television, or the greatest idiots with free time and connections. Harvey Birdman: Nothing like a classic superhero show gone horribly wrong. The quotes from Peanut and Phil are so random that I can't help but laugh. "Ha ha! Cookies on dowels." Venture Brothers: Umm, it's okay. The beatdowns handed out by Brock are about the only thing that prove to be really interesting. After growing up on Johnny Quest it is good to see it twisted in such an fashion.

OOC: Normally I would apologize for the late entry, but it seems I missed the fun anyway. Lilt, for now I will leave my character on his own, and we can work out a way for him to join the group later. [center]***At School, Prior to the party***[/center] Kyouta sat at the top level of the school's fire escape and started into the distance. By now the day had to have been half over, judging by the appearences of other students, however he could not be sure since he had skipped out around his second class. Below the shouting of the gym class could be heard. Lately they had taken up rugby as a standard sport, just to help cull the herd outside of the Underground. Having grown bored of the view, Kyouta picked his flute and began to play as he made his way onto the roof. Lately he had started work on a new melody, slightly more grim than his infamous "Banshee's Call," but still not quite near completion. It seemed that today would not bring and easy end to the song either. "Finally found ya, you little prick," a voice shouted from the roof access. "You're gonna pay for what ya did to Touka." Looking back Kyouta saw the form of a student he knew of only as Masami, the older brother of Touka. Kyouta slowly stood and faced the student, who was at least four inches taller than his own 5' 10", and probably fifty pounds heavier. Not giving Kyouta even a small grace period, Masami jumped right into a fight. Despite having the size advantage he was still out-classed. Kyouta managed to break several ribs with a sharp strike, and launched Masami back onto the fire escape from earlier with a kick. Masami tried to regain his balance, and spat on the ground as his feet failed him. "Damn that witch. She told me you we a push over and just got lucky." "You are a fool," Kyouta spoke quietly and in a level voice. "There is no room for fools. And they give me no pleasure." With that Kyouta grabbed the student, raised him off the ground, and with a open-palm slam to the chest knocked him off the the fire escape. A thud was all Kyouta heard as he turned away. Reaching up to his left ear he felt the earring he had taken from Touka after killing her in the Underground. "At least you were a worthy member of the family." Kyouta was interupted by the sound of clapping. Looking over he saw a girl from the same class as himself. He believed her name was Toshi. "Just as I thought. That baffoon was not as good as you." "So, you were the 'witch' that sent him?" She nodded. "Perhaps you have never seen me show dislike for tests." "I know enough about you. In truth, I just wanted to know if you were worth inviting to my party." "I don't do parties," he responded as he walked past her and into the school. Her hand stopped him in his tracks. "Why not? You might make friends. From the look of it you could use some." She gave him a slightly snide grin. For a time his laughter echoed through the halls of the school's upper level. "If you say that, then you know nothing about me." With that, he stalked away, bringing his flute back to his lips. OOC: As stated above, Lilt, we can find another way for him to join the group. A party just does not seem like his thing anyway.

[QUOTE=Delta][COLOR=#656446]Oh yeah, don't pencils work underwater as well? I saw a clip about scuba divers and I saw one of them write something on a clipboard with a yellow stick (which I assumed was a pencil). [/COLOR][/QUOTE] You know, that is an interesting question, and I do not know for sure. I would think that since the average "#2 required for classes" leave behind a fine, and not too firmly rooted, powder it would be useless. However you can bet there are ones on the market that are able to do that, though I would venture a guess they are not graphite. Maybe a colored pencil, though I have no idea what they acutally use. (Now I am going to be contemplating this all night)

[QUOTE=NekoSama101]to agrue with the whole homosexuality being bilogical, here's proof that it is not, that is actually a choice. (thanks to troubledwith.com) "No solid scientific evidence exists today that people are born homosexual."[/quote] However, is their any solid evidence that shows it is not true. Just because the evidence is not their, does not mean we can discount the possiblity outright. [quote]"According to Joe Dallas, author and former homosexual, ?People tend to view homosexuality more favorably when they think it is inborn. No wonder gay leaders (not all, but most) push the born gay theory; it furthers the cause.?1 " "The same holds true for homosexuality. From conception, males differ from females. Every cell in the male body is different from every cell in the female?s. There are vast disparities between males and females that are currently overlooked by the popular media. But, by design, male was meant for female, and vice versa. " there you go, scientific proof. and i can get more if you want. By relizing that it's a choice, then it definatly does seem like a trend. How ever,like most trends, it may not, and it doesn't, occur everywhere.[/QUOTE] No offence, but until I see a degree attached to that name I cannot say I trust his "scientific proof" about the differences between males and females (unless that is from a different source). Keep in mind, while the male and female bodies are different in many ways they must also be similar in many ways in order to even allow for procreation. As for the "male was meant for female" comment, consider this: the majority of human behaviors already go against the natural order ( we are the only species that seem indepently, consciously, and intentionaly capable of destroying the order of nature).

Here is a rather interesting way to view the situation: in either case the five are doomed. Here is how I came to that conclusion. I view the group as representing society as a whole, as such one could expect no aid from a group outside the 55 listed (since they are everyone). If the fifty storm the homes of the five and take all, the five are reduced to the fifty at best, killed at worst. However, if the fifty save their morals until the very end they are lost, and a five survive in the short term. In the end the five would also die off, as the fifty would have likely been the only source of labor, and thus food, housing, clothing, etc., in the group. As a result the five would have to become the new fifty and fend for themselves. Such a sudden change would result in hoarding, in-fighting, and closing themselves off from each other. In the end, they would either kill each other, or starve if they failed to perform as laborers. Viewed as such, it would be better to attempt to same the largest group. While it may not be moral to steal and kill, the society was already too corrupted by those unwilling to help their fellow people. Right now I feel like using a quote from the Boogiepop novel: "Do you think to do nothing when you see a fellow human crying?" (End of cynical moment)

Well, since people are biting into this already, how about a new spin. Here are three things to think about: (1) Zero Gravity When NASA first started sending up astronauts, they quickly discovered that ball-point pens would not work in zero gravity. To combat this problem, NASA scientists spent a decade and $12 billion developing a pen that writes in zero gravity, upside-down, on almost any surface including glass and at temperatures ranging from below freezing to over 300 C. The Russians used a pencil. Your taxes are due again--enjoy paying them. (2) Our Constitution "They keep talking about drafting a Constitution for Iraq. Why don't we just give them ours? It was written by a lot of really smart guys, it's worked for over 200 years and h***, we're not using it anymore." (3) Ten Commandments The real reason that we can't have the Ten Commandments in a Courthouse is that you cannot post "Thou Shalt Not Steal," "Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery" and "Thou Shall Not Lie" in a building full of lawyers, judges and politicians! It creates a hostile work environment. (I feel that number 1 is appropriate, due to fast approaching April 15th)

Well, as my username may suggest, I have a "two sides of the same coin" style for my emotions. As such I would say that happiness and anger are the two strongest. Normally I am in a good mood, and use it to weird out the people around me. However, it can take very little to cause my mood to shift toward anger, and rapidly some times. Luckily, my self-control outmatches them both and keeps me stable. *Eye twitch*

OOC: This one has caught my eye. Sounds like fun. Name: Kyouta Kanno Gender: Male Description: (See attachment) Thoughts on fighting and death: Kyouta does not fear the fights, or the possibility of death. In fact, he seems to thrive on their existence. More than that, he shows an almost sadistic passion every time it is his turn to fight. Personality: In both the underground, and at school, Kyouta would be best described as insane. He is perhaps the most sadistic of the students in the ring, opting to draw the fights out in order to watch his opponent squirm. While not fighting he sits back in class, not even bothering to show interest. His attitude had driven the rest of the students away, and scares the teachers from reprimanding him. Character details: Almost contradictory to his violent, sociopath nature, Kyouta has shown a fondness for playing a silver flute. It is not uncommon to hear his own melody drifting through the halls, usually in the middle of class. The students refer to this melody as ?The Banshee?s Call?, as it is often the last thing they hear before setting foot into the ring with Kyouta.

13, no question to it. I'm not sure why, but I have always liked 13. I would have to guess that it is because the number is unlucky, so for someone as strangely backwards as I am it should be lucky (I even call it my lucky number). Sometimes I even like numbers that include 1 and 3. For instance, my locker number at work is 103. It is also the opposite of the number for the day of my birth (31st day). I love being strange. :D

Cheers rose from the small crowd of half-drunk steel workers inhabiting the bar on this particular night. The shouts were a mixed cacophony of slurred curses and encouragements. It was a wonder that a fight didn't break out, but not too suprising since they were already watching one. In the center of the floor two seemingly mismatched opponents trades hits. The largest of the two was a foul-mouthed member of the steel worker group, and the only one that seemed to be holding his alcohol. Opposite this man was a girl, half his size, but with blue eyes that looked ready to burn a hole in his soul. Despite their differences, the steel worker was destined to lose this time. An open-handed palm to the chest knocked him back just long enough for the young girl to sweep his feet out of from under him. Before he knew it the large man was face down, with a boot pressed against his shoulders. "Now," the blue-eyed hellion said, "about that bet we had..." A grunt or irritation escaped the man's throat, but in the end he held up his end of the bet. "Fine. Barkeep, add this young lady's drinks for the night to my tab." The bartender merely nodded. Even though she was only 18, no one her had looked past the false ID and just accepted her as 21. For the rest of the night she sat there, laughing up a storm with the group. Even the man she had beaten, who later introduced himself as Kyle, was there joking with her. In the end she had to leave first, still steady on her feet despite the drinks, but was rather disappointed. It was rare for her to find a group she got along with, but her nomadic nature would not allow her to stay for long. [i]You had way too much fun in there tonight.[/i] A male voice echoed in her head. A grin escaped her lips as she kicked the motorcycle to life and flipped down her helmet's visor. "You're damn right I did." With that Jaime's female personality gunned the cycle's engine, and flew down the backroads in the small Illinois town.

I am not sure where to start here, so I guess I will start with my beliefs about existance. I have given the idea some thought in the past, and have come up with a personal definition to existence. Existence: The state of being able to affect the course of a single predetermined event within a system. Now the fun part, what does that mean. Simply put, so long as you can change one event in any system (such as the universe), you can prove that you exist. For instance, a spark has a brief lifespan, however we can prove its existence because of the flash of light, and combustion of dry leaves (as an example). The spark changed the predetermined events by creating spontaneous light, heat, and a resulting chemical reaction. That means that even for a brief instant that spark existed. As for death, I have a strange belief about this one. While we as humans may cease to exist as living beings, we still exist in the various forms that created us, both physical and energy. And since matter and energy are never created or destroyed, I believe that we still exist even after death. Thinking this way, the idea of reincarnation is not so hard to believe when you consider the matter and energy we are composed of are used to create something else in the universe. Thus, our existance is perpetual, even if life is short. That belief may also be the one that drives the human race to reproduce. The urge to live forever, even it is through the life the species as a whole. Since our genetic makeup is transfered to our offspring we continue our life through them. Well, that is enough philosophy for today. Otherwise I will ramble on for a while. :animeswea

I am looking for someone to create a Madlax banner for my signature. Here are the main points I am looking for: -- Images of Madlax and Mr. Friday (see avatar), possibly on opposite sides or back-to-back in the center -- The words 'Akai Tsuki No Kakera' -- A background that fits well with the characters (I'm not too picky this time) Well, that's pretty much it. As I said, I am not too picky this time around. I appreciate any banners offered to me.

Upon the conclusion of Lord Vylon's speech, Alno'dra remained seated quietly. He leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees, hands in front of his mouth, and eyes shut. Meanwhile, Aria simply rested her head across his shoulder, allowing him some time to think. While his external appearance was calm, inside his mind bolted between every point that was brought up in the meeting, and how they were connected. The sound of approaching footsteps returned him to reality. Looking up he saw two Dragonheart Lords approach him, one a young woman with light brown hair, and the other a gentleman with black hair. "You seemed lost in thought, Lord Alno'dra." Alno'dra nodded. "Yes, just trying to figure things out. But I am afriad you have me at a disadvantage, Lord...?" "Kain Caznim, and this is Lord Keisha," the black haired man replied, motioning to the young lady at his side. Alno'dra stood and gestured to Aria."And this is my partner, Aria. You are right about me being lost in thought. I was trying to remember something I read years back that I think has a link to the Bloodshard harvesting that Lord Vylon mentioned." "You mean the enchantment he spoke of?" Keisha asked, knowing what Alno'dra meant, but trying to dig out more info. "That is correct. I remember reading about an enchantment that could 'take the power of a dragon, and place it in the palm of a human's hand.' I could never find more information about it, so I figured it was just a metaphor for something else." Alno'dra shrugged. "I guess it was more than that." Alno'dra once again became quiet, and unconsciously rubbed his chin in thought. Lords Kain and Keisha stood in thought for a moment too, before Alno'dra broke the silence. "I think it would be best to ask Lord Vylon about the enchantment. If you will excuse me." The pair nodded, and Alno'dra walked off in search of Lord Vylon.

OOC: Curse you, Oblivion. You took my idea. :animeswea Anyway, here is my sign-up. Let me know if anything needs to be changed. Name: Jaime Wolf Nickname(s): Gemini, Castor (Male) & Pollox (Female) Age: 18 Gender: Male/Female (I?ll explain later) Origin: Central Iowa Current Residence: Wanders, but currently in northern Illinois Curse: Jaime is able to change the physical shape of his/her body; to take on any desired form. The basic limitations for a human form are the only thing that provides limits on the form taken. The downside is that Jaime has lost the memory of his/her original form, and his/her personality has split into two forms: one male, one female. Appearance: (Male): In his male form Jaime usually takes on the shape of a person six-foot tall, with red hair, and brown eyes. His body is not generally strong looking, and tends to have long arms and legs. His face is one that most people would forget in a heartbeat, since it is rather generic and does not really stand out. His attire is normally just a T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and black street shoes. (Female): Jaime?s female form tops out at about 5? 7?. Her hair is black, about shoulder length, and has blue streaks across the front bangs, which match the dark blue of her piercing eyes. She has a decent amount of muscle on her arms, and a red tattoo that looks like thorn-covered vines on her upper right arm. Few forget her face, not for it?s beauty, but for how her eyes seem to stare into their souls. Her attire consists of a pair of jean with frayed cuffs and knees, a white sleeveless shirt, a denim jacket with the arms torn off at the middle of the upper-arms, and a pair of boots. (Side note): Appearance will obviously change when needed during the RPG, however the appearances above are for ?off periods? when there is no need to change into someone else. Also, for the sake of simplicity I will assume that clothing is part of the change (unless you want it to be different, Kitty). Personality: (Male): Calm and levelheaded, he takes his time to think about his next move. He is friendly, but not really outgoing, though it does not seem to be difficult for him to make friends when he speaks with people. Also shows himself to be intelligent. (Female): The proverbial ?wild side? of Jaime, she is cunning and ruthless. She is not outgoing, but can be boisterous in a group. It can be hard for her to get along with people, since she seems to either scare them or annoy them. More often then not she would prefer to fix her prized motorcycle than deal with most people, and she would gladly stab someone in the back if it got her what she wanted. Biography: Jaime was born as James Wolf, and into a rather normal family. His father worked in a factory during the day, and his mother worked late at an upscale restaurant a few towns away. While they did not have a great deal of money for luxury items, they managed enough to stay healthy. All in all, a normal family life. In truth, the whole town was just plain ?normal.? Not much seemed to change in city, and no major events caused it to stand out. The town was just normal. Average. Boring. This began to change shortly after his tenth birthday. He began to notice strange behaviors with his body, where is seemed that clothing would fit one day, but not the next. One morning he woke up to find his hands had grown longer nails, and were somewhat feminine, though he chalked this up to just being groggy. He also began to notice the growing presence of a voice within his mind, one that did not seem like his own. Soon, he started to black out during classes, and wake up to find himself in trouble for something he never did. No matter how many doctors he was taken to no one could tell him anything but one thing: he was ?normal.? Everything culminated at about the age of twelve, when he finally became conscious during one of his blackouts. He saw himself pummeling someone, yet had no control over his hands. When he tried to shout no words came out, but a female voice answered him. The voice asked why ?we? should stop, that they attacked ?us? first. James learned after the fight about his ?second mind,? and even about the abilities he had. After all those years it turned out he was not normal. The next several years were difficult, as the two had to learn how to work together. One change made was calling themselves Jaime, so that there would be no argument over a male or female name. Other issues involved who would have control of their body, and how far they could push its limits. In the end they worked things out, but there was another strain they had neglected. Due to the differences that Jaime had, people had begun to look at his entire family differently. Old friends stopped seeing them, people in town whispered, and as a result the marriage between his mother and father was tearing itself apart. In one final act to save it both sides of Jaime agreed to leave. In the end they left in the middle of the night at the age of 17, taking only what money they had saved, enough dried food to last them for a week or two, and their father?s unused motorcycle. Since then they have wandered around, working odd jobs, and hiding their unique ability.