Inuyasha Fandom

Name: Eric Vensh Age: 17 Appearance: [IMG]http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a131/ThousandPainfulMiles/Anime%20Guys/anime160.jpg[/IMG] Personality: A youth alive with the fires of passion and creativity, he journeys in search of his destiny. Being alone in the world doesn't seem to bother him on the outside, but he is no ordinary boy. He's the grizzly remains of human wreckage, pieced back together through the magic of his amulet he always wears, and the aid of a traveling doctor, who just happened to find him. To this day, he has no idea why he simply has terrible maiming scars along the length of his body, and why he didn't die that day. These thoughts go with him wherever he goes, and drive him to protect others from the same (or possibly worse) fate than he once had. Weapon: A mystical chain sword, capable of becoming a bladed whip or acting as a bastard sword, depending on which setting he wants. He also keeps a dagger hidden in his right boot. Dragon Spirit: Fire

Rayne slammed his fist on the sterring wheel, bending it slightly out of shape. "Damn it. We can't risk our cover being blown. Ren, get up there. If Anue is going to move in, she's going to need help." They had parked the car in the adjacent parking deck to the hotel, ready to move. "Right. I think I can get up using the alley. I hope I can find an unoccupied room to burst into." "Worry about that later. Just go. I'll move into position myself. I need to know just who we're dealing with." A crackle over the walkie talkie alerted him to something going on. "Come again?" he asked as Ren opened the door and left. Tahlia's voice came over the walkie talkie. "Rayne, Ken's managed to get another room on the same floor. I'm in the women's bathroom in the lobby. There's a ton of guys and girls in black suits. I count fourteen just in the lobby alone, not counting those I've seen in the hallways. Whoever they are, they've got some serious manpower." "I'll move out now. Watch it. Don't draw attention to yourself. Scope it out. Ken should be nearby." "Roger. Pizza delivery... are we really playing this role?" "You scared? I can have someone else do it." "Haven't you learned by now? I'm already dead. I fear nothing!" Rayne smiled at her ferocious demeanor. "You may be harder to kill now, but a bullet through the brain does just a good a job on shikabane as it would you. Be careful." "Fine. I'll get on it." With that, the walkie talkie went dead. Rayne took it as his cue to move. He got out of the car and proceeded to walk to the hotel. But, he couldn't finish his short walk. "Hold it." A gun poked him in his back. "We know you're here to target our product." "Who, little ol' me?" Rayne asked innocently.

ALL HAIL THE SPORK!

Name: Kristopher Fuller Age: 25 Appearance: Possessed of short and brilliantly bright red hair, Kris stands in at 5'10" and weighs 179 lbs. He doesn't look his weight, though he doesn't strike people as obscenely buff either. Wearing glasses, a small red hoop earring in his right ear, he always has a smile. Usually, Kris wears a beater under an oversized dress shirt, with a studded dog collar. He also wears baggy blue jeans and black tennis shoes usually. His smile has been known to brighten a room, while his hazel eyes have been known to keep it hostage. Skills: Fast typer, lock picking, people skills Gear: EVP reader, laptop computer, three digital camcorders Supernatural Power: Kris has the ability to sense spirits, even if they haven't manifested. As a side effect, he has a subconcious precognition ability as well, able to react to things right before they happen. Biography: His first supernatural dealings involved a girl who haunted the first house he lived in. Killed by her own father, she remained buried beneath the garage floor. He saw her drift around the house, and always seemed to be near the wall of the basement covered in weird stains that never went away. After moving out of the home, it was revealed that the body of the girl was buried behind that wall, four feet under the concrete floor of the garage. Since then, he's been fascinated by the occult and the supernatural.

[quote name='Lilt' timestamp='1301034327' post='705908'] [b]An opera singer would be great. I just actually started Parasite Eve actually and without spoiling anything, I can see it fitting into our RP pretty well. The only idea that I have that is musically related is a Shikabane drummer maybe? Amateur bands put out an ad for a drummer and they all end up dead. Kind of a reverse Spinal Tap I guess.[/b] [/quote] Interesting. I like it ^^

Rayne smirked when they began to pull straws. As it turned out, Onidus and Anue were the first to go check out the singer. Rayne and the others bid them farewell, though Rayne made sure to tell them to be careful as well. Tahlia smiled, and sat down on one of the couches in the living room when they had left. "Rayne, tell me. Just what harm can this singer do?" "I don't know. But, I assume more than we can guesstimate she's already done." Rayne bit his thumbnail, and sighed. "I only hope that if we can get her before the concert. Many, many kids are going to be at the concert itself... I'd rather not make a spectacle or traumatize them." "As I'm sure a sniper shot to her head on stage would." Ren piped in. She came back into the room with a sandwich. "I know I would have need some serious therapy." "As opposed to now?" Tahlia giggled. Ren smiled sheepishly. "Well, I guess knowing I'm dead helps." "I suppose." Rayne remarked, his eyes trailing to the television. "I vote we watch cartoons. We have time until Anue and Onidus report back in." "Did Ken call yet?" Tahlia asked as she grasped the television remote and pressed the power button. She flipped through the channels until she came upon a show featuring bugs bunny. Rayne smiled, and spoke. "I remember when Bugs Bunny was first aired." "Yes, yes, we know you're an old man." Tahlia chimed. Rayne only tuned into the show with a smile. It wasn't long before Ken indeed called. "Greetings, Rayne, I must give my sincere apologies for not calling sooner." "No problems. We have a new mission, if you'd like to be filled in." "Of course, comrade. Please, continue." "We're taking out Kun Osaki." When Rayne spoke, there was a funny noise on the other end of the line. "Something wrong?" Rayne inquired. "Kun Osaki? The singer in town for a week?" There was a hint of being startled, something that didn't happen to Ken often. "Yes. Is there a problem?" "Yes... I am supposed to attend the concert..." Rayne remained quiet for a minute, thinking. It wasn't hard to imagine the issue Ken would have. "You know, taking out the singer will aid in protecting her." "Victoria might be in danger?" It was faint, but Rayne could hear the note of panic in his voice. "I assume you mean that rhetorically. Yes, Kun is a danger that can't be ignored. It wouldn't be too hard for her to lose it at a concert and kill an entire crowd. And if Victoria was in the crowd..." Rayne let his words trail off, not wanting to speak of the potential horrors that could happen. "Might I suggest you head to the hotel? We already have a plan, though it is best if we work together." "I shall be there as soon as I possibly can." With that, Ken hung up and Rayne's face looked troubled. "So eager to save the woman he loves..." "Rayne..." Tahlia placed her hand on his shoulder, and he looked into her pretty eyes. "Can you blame him? You already said she looks like the woman he loved when he was alive a mortal." "No, I can't. Even I was in love, once upon a time. But, I fear that should an enemy learn of her... she would be his only weakness. I don't think Ken could handle losing her twice." "I think he's tougher than that." Ren replied, as if she was rooting for him. "Besides, I don't think he'd ever let something happen to her." Rayne remained silent, and turned back to the television. He knew that history not only repeated itself, but relished in repeating its most bloody moments. He could only hope Victoria wouldn't become a casualty again.

Welcome to the forgotten city of West Burmon, Illinois, with a population of what was once about 10,000 people. The town now lies abandoned because of the immense amount of supernatural activity. It is said that the town is filled with the restless spirits of the dead, and a town in which the living constantly lives in fear. Many of the dwindling number of residents speak in hushed tones of the dark and grisly history of the city from the butchering of all of the nuns and patients in the now abandoned catholic hospital to the tales of the terrible accident that destroyed most of the Frances Jane Memorial Train Depot. The river that runs through the city played host to the days when paddle boats steamed the mighty Mississippi, and saw many gruesome shipwrecks along the shore. The rundown though once stately Morrison Manor has seen the worst of the town, the history of the structure has been plagued with a blood-soaked past. The entire city has been the subject of many, many heated debates about the supernatural. Almost every building in the town has a history, and there are plenty of people who like to journey into the town to catch a glimpse of these phenomenon. Many leave West Burmon and refuse to speak of the terror they faced while amongst these aging and deteriorating buildings. Several other stories of this town involve the spirits allegedly haunting the Patricia J. Hennsy Memorial High School and Middle School. Joined only by the grounds, these two buildings were built in the early 1800's and were the town's pride and joy. The schools were reported haunted as early as 1830. Through the decades until its closure in 1960, the school played host to almost twenty murders, suicides, and fatal accidents. There have been several apparitions spotted. The Middle School's first Principal, Jean Jacues, who fell asleep at his desk in 1807 and passed away. Three other spirits are the victims of a violent murder that took place within the basement of the High School in 1889. A student and a teacher were having an affair, and when the principal then found out, a Mrs. Rita McDaffing, the principal shot them both with a 12-gauge shotgun, and then herself in the office after writing a suicide note about the ordeal. Two other spirits are the ghosts of a young boy and a girl, who play together on the ruined playground. The story goes that the young boy was a student who was stung by a bee, and suffered a fatal allergic reaction before the paramedics could arrive. The little girl is said to have been the victim of a freak accident when a massive tree branch broke off the trunk of the ancient oak tree located in the playground area and crushed her skull. Both of these deaths are supposed to have occurred in the 1901-2 school year. Another popular story concerns the school buses that once brought the students to these once hallowed places of learning. They were all parked in the parking lots of their respective schools upon them closing, though it is said at random they disappear if only to be seen rumbling along or parked elsewhere in the residential areas. There are three documented cases of there being fatal accidents involving three separate buses, of which there were no survivors. As for the St. Maria Hospital, the story is that in the year 1953 a George Manusco was admitted to the hospital with a terrible fever. His illness was never revealed, as when he awoke later that night, mad with his fever, he grabbed a fire ax from the hall outside of his room and began to brutally murder all who crossed his path. He killed almost 150 people (most of which were either people who were bedridden through sickness themselves or nuns) before he turned the ax on himself. The hospital was never opened again after the massacre, and its doors were closed forever. The spirits of those killed are said to make themselves known in a variety of ways. What's most unnerving about the building of this former house of healing is that the bloodstains of those killed can still be seen, as the blood was never cleaned up before the doors permanently locked. In effect, all of the equipment, lights, medicine, and rotted foodstuffs remain in the building. The Train Depot itself was build in the late 1800's or early 1900's, if only to be immediately shut down due to a terrible accident that took the lives of seventy people. From what can be gathered from public records, the train depot had a passenger train come into the station shortly after noon, next to two other trains that had also pulled into the station. One of the steam powered locomotives suddenly exploded, sending pieces of the iron making up the locomotive flying in all directions. These pieces were reported to range wildly in size. Two pieces were send into the neibouring trains, causing these too to explode. A fire broke out, decimating the depot and the remaining train cars. Eyewitness accounts when recorded told of how the fire rapidly sprang along the floor and the rafters above the trains, trapping many people and paired with the chocking steam, suffocated many people. The ruins of the depot still stand as a testament to a time long gone by. Again, as with the hospital, the ruined train cars were never moved. Tracks were laid to circumvent the depot, as the tracks in the station itself were claimed to be beyond salvation and the city didn't wish to deal with the costs of tearing the building down and rebuilding. The ruins of the building, trains, and tracks appear today as they did on the day of the tragedy. The next popular discussion is of the residential area, said to be plagued with strange occurrences. Many, many different apparitions have been seen roaming the streets, and not all of them human. Several breeds of dogs have been seen, as well as several different colored cats. Many different apparitions have been seen here, their clothing dating from the early 1800's to the 1960's. From the larger, older, and more luxurious homes comes the sounds of parties held by an invisible crowd. Lights within the homes turn on and off (which should be impossible as the power to these buildings has long since been severed), and candles are said to be lit and flit about the rooms. The stories of several different models of vintage cars and trucks are told repeatedly. In some of these stories, cars will pull out of driveways and drive down the street, often with no driver. 3423 Russo Drive is said to have the most interesting vehicle. The home itself is nothing special to look at, though the ancient 1956 station wagon is. Rusted throughly, the car sits on flat tires. The car was simply abandoned there. The car is said to start up on its own, with all of the noises of a car that hasn't started in years. It will roll forward, playing music from its radio distinctive of that time period. Other stories involve phantom vintage vehicles which disappear as one approaches them, or cause accidents with terrible crunching and grinding of metal. On inspecting one's vehicle, the other vehicle is gone, and there is no damage done. It's not just the streets that are haunted, but the homes as well. A fair few were the scene of another massacre, when a woman used her make-up salesman routine to approach all of the houses in a neibourhood, and kill all of the residents of the homes with an ax. She wound up killing fourty-three people including children, some of which were infants. Thankfully, her rampage was on a school/work day, or there may have been many, many more deaths. Near and spread within the residential areas are several sprawling parks. Spindler Park, named for the park's third mayor, has been the site of many spectral encounters, namely caused by the restless spirits of children. In 1890, a young woman filled with grief over the loss of her young child wandered into the park and hung herself. It is said she wanders the park, dressed in a flowing black dress and her sobs and wails of anguish can be heard during the nights of the full moon. Another park, Rene Bradley Park, was the scene of several horrid murders, including that of thirteen children and a lynching of four women by a religious cult. The rotting wooden structure of a massive playground still echoes with children's laughter and screams. Sarah Gestault Park is infamous for the statue of a young girl who supposedly weeps blood every night of the full moon. A fourth park, Glen Oak Park, was the scene of a theological horror. An unknown person attacked, bound, and gagged the clergy of a local church, and brought them all to the park to be butchered. Of all the body parts recovered, there were several missing organs from the five bodies. All of their hearts were missing. The symbol of the cross was carves not only through their faces, but through their skulls as well. Perhaps the most odd haunting is that of the fairgrounds, where it is said the ghosts of an elephant and a tiger can be seen and felt. The Miriam the elephant was struck by lightning in 1918, and instantly died, whereas the Tiffany the tiger died of old age in 1920. There is a memorial to the beasts on the grounds. Another specter within the grounds is that of that of Miles Gray, whose name belied his colorful nature, and he was a jovial and humorous circus clown who died of an unknown disease in 1949. It is said he appears sometimes with and sometimes without his clown suit. Within the rotting big top there is supposed to be the spirits of a young man and woman who died in a trapeze accident. Many times the wooden roller coaster can be heard running along the tracks, but the ride has long been closed down, and sections have collapsed due to rot. The sounds of the carnival that was once here can be heard on some nights as well, and people claim to have seen its bright and flashing lights and heard the carnival music only to arrive there and find it dark and ominous. The Morrison Manor itself seems to be quite the paranormal hot spot as well. Boasting a massive Victorian mansion. a poolhouse, a gazebo, a ballroom, and a massive rose garden, the once beautiful mansion grounds have fallen away to rot and disrepair. It was here on July 4th, 1932, that a terrible series of crimes took place. Owned by Reston Morrison, he and his family boasted many almost legendary parties, included on the guest list was many a Hollywood star or musician. Every single man, woman, and child on this property were murdered, and in cold blood. Through a variety of means, the people here on that night were killed in terrible fashions. But, the stories of the grounds of the mansion itself are steeped in blood as far back as the late 1600's. Past lynchings, murders, suicides, and a collapsed mine are on the grounds. All in all, there have been 367 documented deaths and 45 verified deaths on the property since the late 1600's, long before the mansion was built in the mid 1800's. Even after the manor was erected, the number of deaths escalated ever more. Downtown, once again, is filled with disturbing haunts. The Macremay Movie House once held massive audiences captive in front of the silver screen as well as play productions since its construction in 1899 up until its closure in 1980. Three actors, two actresses, and two employees have died in the course of the productions of this theatre. Many accounts reveal the scent of two distinctive perfumes, ghostly apparitions, and the sounds of a performance. On occasion, movies have begun to play from the reels still stored in the projector boxes. In the parking lot of the building are strange sightings of a classic Ford Mustang, a vintage hearse of unknown make or model, and a Volkswagon Bus. Elsewhere downtown, the City Hall and Courthouse soars majestically into the sky. Closed since 1970 when the rest of the town was almost completely abandoned, these two three story buildings sit next to one another with a parking lot shared between them. There have been twenty deaths between the two buildings, including the most commonly spotted spirits of that of Jason Marley, a judge who died of being accidentally electrocuted, Nancy Fields, a twenty year old woman who died after being murdered because she refused the advances of an aging and popular judge, Miranda Cummings, an elderly woman who cleaned the buildings, and Aaron Yeln, who was the town's fifth mayor who passed away at his desk due to a heart attack. A city park sits near these two buildings, and has the feeling of being safe permeating though it. A fountain and statue of a woman sits at the center of the park, facing the courthouse. It is said that she overlooks the park as some kind of savior and on certain nights she moves and sings and prays. There were several reports of people attacked in the park, if only for their attacker to be thwarted by a woman who bore a disturbing resemblance to the statue. It is thought that the spirit is that of a woman named Annabel Maston, who was an adamant and early supporter of women's rights. She was quite popular in the town, and had a very pointed view of justice and how people should be treated and punished for crimes committed. She was seen as something of a local hero, because of her work for charity and for her immediate actions to find missing people during bad weather, sometimes by herself. It was one night after leaving her home that she mysteriously disappeared, and to this day remains unsolved. After her disappearance the statue of her was erected, and the strange happenings began to occur. A young man named Bradley Cadds was convicted of a crime in 1922 of which he maintained he was innocent of until his hanging on the gallows once located behind the City Hall. Allegedly, Cadds was in love with a young woman, named Mary Morrison, who coincidentally happened to be the daughter of the Morrison family who lived in the famed Morrison Manor. The story goes that it was her father who accidentally killed her out of rage when he forbade his daughter from seeing the simple farmer. When she refused, he savagely beat her and locked her up in her bedroom. When she refused to eat, he again beat her. Unable to convince his daughter to his side of things, he allowed her to escape, if only to shoot her as she ran away with a hunting rifle. Though he aimed to kill her, she managed to get away. Knowing where his daughter would be headed, the angry father was determined to never allow his daughter to be with the 'filthy lower class'. On arriving at the home of the Cadds, the father was already too late, his daughter had died in the arms of Cadds. Through his anger he had failed keeping this from happening, and he was able to twist the story of how things happened and had Cadds hanged for a crime he did not commit. Cadds and Mary are said to haunt the Cadds estate, and have been seen together walking on several occasions. It seems Mary's father failed at keeping them apart after all, and this is one of the few more or less happy hauntings in the sad tale of this forgotten city. Finally, the last area of the town that's a trendy topic is the Ashley Cemetery and the roads around it. This particular cemetery is haunted by many things which are described as 'less than human.' People Tell stories of the ancient stone centerpiece gazebo, which houses the statue of an angel who was modeled after the founder of West Burmon, Westley Burmon's own daughter, who died of Tuberculosis shortly after her father founded the town. She is the first person buried here on these grounds, and is said to possess the statue on occasion. The statue has been known to change positions, poses, and watch people. Other apparitions have been known to appear in the cemetery and chase people. The road on the outside of the cemetary is supposed to have a phantom black big rig which chases down your car and attempts to run you off the road. Rumor has it, the big rig was picked up by a tornado and flung around, killing the driver. This story however has never been proven. Of course, these are only a few of the stories of the hauntings of this abandoned town. These occurrences seem to plague this poor town. Why that is no one knows. But we're here to investigate, and lay these poor souls to rest. Why is this town so haunted? Why were there so many tragedies? Just what is it in this town that causes all of the activity? is the area of the town cursed? That's what we are going to find out. We are the Peace Makers. We lay to rest the spirits of those departed and unable to find peace. Using our abilities, wits, logic, and our own supernatural powers, we are those who help those who are unable to help themselves. How will you help them rest? Here is the sign-up sheet: Name: Age: Appearance: Skills:(what are you good at?) Gear: (Do you have EVP readers? Cameras? A spork? What did you bring with you?) Supernatural Ability: (nothing too powerful, perhaps things related to ghost hunting) Biography:(what was your first supernatural experience?)

I am willing to bet that the souls of all those lost WILL congregate. If any of the towns that were wiped out are ever rebuilt, the restless spirits of those poor souls will make themselves known. Eventually, I'd like to go to Japan to give my respects to the dead.

here's what I have to say on the entire subject... and yes it's me ^^ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rV5p0Z_Kvc

Never remark on how wonderful someone looks while sleeping. You will be accused of having a fetish for dead people. Hence why I will now refrain from commenting on the Irrcorruptibles.

my birthday is actually coming up soon. It's going to be on the 21st

Actually.... I'm following on twitter. http://twitter.com/search?q=%23fukushima

Just confirmed: presence of Caesium-137 and Iodine-131 in the vicinity of Fukushima.

Rayne smiled, it was ten minutes after sun up now, and Anue and Oni rushed in the door. Tahlia had long dince returned, and fallen asleep. The sounds of music had stopped as well, Ren was asleep as well. Rayne had a laptop next to him, dimly glowing and showing hospital, police, and a e-mails, all pertaining to one person. "So, you finally make it back." "Hey, we're back before the city woke up." Anue quipped, and Rayne shrugged and finished off his coffee. "So... Our next target." With this Anue and Onidus froze, and slowly turned to look at him, their coats only halfway into the closet. "What is it?" "A pop singer. And her newest album is already number one on the charts. Quite a comeback after a few years, correct? Not bad, for a shikabane." Onidus sat down on the couch, and next to him Anue sat down. They knew Rayne had more to say, and he pressed a button on his computer. Instantly a woman's voice could be heard. Her voice was beautiful, and The others listened to the music. "Kun Osaki is dead." "Who is?" Rayne turned to look at Ren, and smiled. "Sit down, we're talking about the pop singer who's making a comeback." "Why can't we have this conversation at a reasonable hour?" Tahlia said, and came out of her room, dressed in her night clothes. Her hair was mussed, and she yawned loudly. "Let's get this over with." "Right... So we're going after Kun Osaki. People have been disappearing for some time around her. A taxi driver, a producer, a landlord... too many to be just coincidence." Rayne paused, looking at the stereo as it finished Kun's song. "There were rumors of her frailty. Supposedly, she had suffered from heart disease as a young child, but it had been taken care of. Then, one day she fainted in the recording studio. A publicist said she was just exhausted fro all her work, but it was more grave than that." "Come to think of it, she hasn't been seen in public for years." Ren added. "There were no concerts during all this time either." "You're right..." Anue stated. "It's all just a big cover-up. But who has that kind of power to cover something like this and keep it secret?" "Well, think about it. Almost everyone in show buisness has a connection to the underground. She's no different, but I suspect that it's those around her who are the ones with that kind of power. The producer, the manager, all of them. She's been known to have enourmous groups of body guards. What we're going to have do depends on how things go in the next week. There is, for whatever reason, a comeback concert being held at the city civic center seven days from now. It's time to study our enemy folks." "Roger that." "On it." "When can we start blowing things up?" "I'll be on it first thing when we wake up." Rayne looked at his empty coffee mug, and smiled. "Time for bed... " He walked over to his own chambers, and waited for a moment for everyone to close their doors before he his own. It was with that Rayne took off his clothes, sent Ken a text message to return the next day for their new mission, and lied down to sleep.

I can see all of this going on, and it's sad to see and hear about. I can only wonder as to how the people will live their lives now, though all they can do is move on. The lives and precious treasures lost to this quake are beyond measure in the scope of humanity. I hope those lost rest in peace.

Never underestimate the power of a loaded diaper. They have weight restrictions for a reason.l

So... I was reading about what some salvagers, treasure hunters, and divers do to the remains of the people who are lost at sea when they discover wrecks. It's horrible! The wedding ring removed from the skeleton of a person who died aboard the SS Superior City when it went down is a prime example. Why is so little care given to these people? I, for one, wouldn't some treasure hunting ***** thieving my wedding ring, for the world to see it. It's almost like a mockery of how the person died. I mean, there was no effort in trying to locate the widow of the poor sailor, in order to give the ring to her. That would be understandable, but there was no such thing. Instead, it just went right into a museum. That angers me. Alot. And then there's the pilfering of relics from shipwrecks like the Titanic. I don't really care about plates and china and wine casks and that crap. But the boots that lay side by side I do. They mark the remains of where a person once lied there on the bottom of the ocean floor. To bring something like that up is to defile someone's final resting place. The ship itself is also just that, a mass, watery grave. It's all fine and dandy to explore it, I don't think the victims would mind visitors. I wouldn't. But to remove things from the rooms is. Look, but don't touch, you know? But, then there's the dismantling and discarding of ships with no regard as to the men and women who died on them, the USS LST-480 and the other vessels which burned in the West Point Loch. No one knows about these other victims of Pearl Harbor because it was deemed top secret until 1960. That aspect I could care less about. But, then the ships involved in that accident were all just cut up and dumped into the ocean, with no heed as to just what had happened. But, my rant doesn't end there. So many people just don't seem to care about the lost liners of the times, or they mock the wreck and the deaths of those on board. These queens of the ocean are doomed to be forgotten, lying broken on the ocean bottom, remembered only by those who survived them. Obsurity is something that is and never was deserved by these luxurious floating palaces. Ships like the Montana and the City of Taunton were abandoned to just waste away at the mercy of the waves when they ran aground. And countless other great ocean liners were doomed to just be cut up and sold for scrap. Why do we let this happen? These ships were the icons of a time in history when their decadence was unprecidented. And yet, we allow their mindless destruction, and for them to remain but names in log books. You would think they could remain as floating hotels or just museums, testimony to a once great era in luxury travel. What do you guys think?

Wonderful lessons... here's another: When clearing off your windsheild of ice in the middle of winter, DO NOT put hot water on it thinking the ice will just melt away. Your insurance company does not cover stupidity.

Corpse Princess is a big inspiration, I happen to have a few nasty little surprises that I recently came up with thanks to it.... I might do a Shikabane Opera Singer eventually.

Go ahead and google her, she's a character from Corpse Princess, though I'm just taking the name, her looks, and profession. She's a shikabane, you'll find a youtube vid of one of her songs I'll be using as well. But... That's where all the similarities end, unless you count her regrets and obsessions. i cant reveal anything else