Claire

[FONT=Arial]"This was the original design for Michael Myers in the musical version of Halloween, but that idea kind of flopped. Dramatically."[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]This sort of relates to my "You Can't Say That" thread, doesn't it! Good timing, now I know what to say. =D Regardless of how offensive something might be to a certain group, it doesn't make it illegal. Free speech means saying whatever you want, even though it might offend or insult somebody. Free press is the same thing. I'm not Danish, or even Muslim, so I can't really relate to the way any side of this conflict feels, but I am interested in things dealing with freedom of speech and other means of self-expression. Like on a video I watched in which a bunch of Catholics were protesting the movie Dogma, claiming it to be a hate crime and offensive. They never had to watch the movie, ever, and will never have to. They just wasted their time with the assembly, really. The only thing that anyone can debase the newspaper for is it's racist (for lack of a better term) cartoon. The Muslim people can simply not read that paper ever again, and I'll bet that would hurt it more than help it. If they wanted, they could print their own anti-that-newspaper-comic, and it would be perfectly legal. Free speech is free speech is free speech.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]That's right, I thought I'd be cool and spell it with an apostrophe! All grammar aside, here it comes. Just cause I've been wanting to do this for a while and I finally found the inspiration to do it. So here it is! [CENTER][IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v630/ShikyoKasu/piabhc.jpg[/IMG] (I'm pulling a Dragon Warrior, minus the l337 Photoshop)[/CENTER] [CENTER] [B]Pine Barrens, New Jersey, 1982[/B] [/CENTER] They seemed extremely pleasant in the early October breeze, swaying gently in the wind. They were all [I]too[/I] pleasant. Christine shuddered, wrapping her lose bathrobe tightly around her body, green eyes staring into the forest. She sighed and shook her head, reminding herself that it was only a forest and not the pit of horse-like demons that almost every local said it was. "They're crazy old hicks," she told herself, turning away from the Pine Barrens. The feeling of someone's eyes boring into her soul filled her, flipping her foreboding stomach like a pancake. She didn't want to turn around, for fear of seeing a monster on the forest's edge. "Get a grip, Christine," she whispered, taking a deep breath. She reached behind her to close the porch door, making sure not to look at the Pine Barrens again, and headed into the kitchen for breakfast. [center][b]Last June[/b][/center] The doorbell buzzed all day when she first moved into the house. She only saw it as an inexpensive two-story abode with plenty of space for one person; maybe two, as she often hopefully reminded herself. She was unpacking her bedclothes when the doorbell first rang at 10 AM, the day after she first moved in. "Good morning!" exclaimed a middle aged man in a business suit. She figured he was just a door to door salesman, and tried to disguise her reluctance to speak with him as pure morning sleepiness. "I heard you moved here from Florida. Welcome to New Jersey! You're gonna love it here - the summers at the beach, the white Christmases, the ghost stories-" "Ghost stories?" she interrupted, heartbeat picking up. She once had a terrible experience with a "haunted house" as a child, and never forgot about it. The businessman laughed heartily, patting her on the shoulder. "Sure! I bet every state has its little scary tales, just to make the place more interesting. In my opinion, Jersey sure has a bunch of those..." he said, his happy expression dulling to a slightly confused one. She felt herself trembling, and hoped the man wouldn't notice. "What kind of-" "Hi! I'm Damien Mathers," he finally said, extending a hand to her. She shook it uneasily, becoming confused at the man's inability to focus on one topic at a time. "Christine Weatherby," she replied. Mathers said that it was nice to meet her, as any polite person would do, then glanced at his watch. "Woops," he muttered with an accident prone smile stretching across his face, "I'm going to be late for work. I hope you enjoy it here in Jersey, Miss Weatherby!" She nodded and said something of the same effect to him, ready to close the door and return to her unpacking. However, Mathers whipped around quickly, startling her. "Wait, Christine! Don't believe any ghost stories! I've lived here my whole life and I've never seen any supernatural things anywhere. It's all a load of bull!" he yelled, grinning. She pretended to have closed her door before he could say anything, almost certain that he would come back to the door and try again. As she didn't want this to happen, she was chastising herself mentally. She peeked out the window to see him climb into his obnoxiously red sports car and drive away. She sighed with relief - she didn't like Mathers, nor did she trust him. She didn't believe that he was a Jersey native, because he carried no accent on his voice at all. He sounded like someone who had recently moved from Florida. She laughed at his silliness, confident that he wouldn't bother her again. Surely he didn't think she was an idiot? She had figured out that he was fibbing, and he wouldn't be respected by her. The doorbell rang again not but ten minutes later, this time bearing a shaky, wrinkled man wearing a plaid shirt, overalls, and a John Deere trucker hat. For pete's sake, she thought, I don't think I'm in Jersey anymore, but in Kansas. "Mornin', miss," he said, his voice disagreeing with his appearance in the most New Jerseyish sound that Christine had ever heard. "I saw that crazy Mathers man over here. Don't believe anything he tells you! The summers here are hellish, the winters here are bleak, and he's definitely not a Joizey native. In face, he just moved here two years ago. He wouldn't know anything about the truth behind our stories. Because you know what?" He leaned in, sneering so that Christine could see his yellow teeth. "They ain't stories!" With that, the old man turned and hobbled away, leaving her in a mild state of shock. "Why don't I like anybody in this state yet?!" she whined to herself, slamming the door and twisting the master lock into place. --- To be continuated. Of course, this is by no means a great work. Just a little background info; it's a conglomeration of parodies of well-known horror movies that takes place in New Jersey in 1982. The characters are all actually being "acted out" by members of my band, Pandora in a Box, as the title states. This is a future planned movie thing that I want to include on the future planned tour DVD on the future planned tour of New England and parts of Europe (because I can, that's why). I don't have all the "actors" worked out yet, but Christine will probably be portrayed by me (I'm not egotistical, it's just the way it worked out. There are better, more fun parts played by other members/roadies!) So, if you wanted to know, that's the story morning glory. I hope to pick up the pace reall soon.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Yes, all of the "poems" I write are actually song lyrics without the music. And my most recent one is actually about me not being afraid of things I used to be afraid of anymore, like thunderstorms, Salvador Dali (some pictures of him were pretty frightening), and I recently watched The Shining without getting scared (or most of it, I kept turning it off before every tricycle scene). It's more like me proclaiming that I'm not scared of them anymore, and that they should just stop trying. =) I wrote another one about my annoying friend, but I don't have it with me. I'll post it later, though. Oh yeah, I wrote two songs recently, so I'll post them both later. Yay![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Ophelia heard her stomach gurgle out of uneasiness. She did remember the chimera; she remembered all the chimeras, just not their names. She didn't want to talk, or actually be in the presence of any other being, human nor chimera. She just wanted to go home and study for that pre-calculus test she would've taken the next day, five years ago. But she would never be able to go home again. "It was terrible," she said to herself, suddenly unaware of the other chimera at the table. She realized that he was still there, and sighed. "Sorry - I kind of get zoned out easily." Her eyes became shaded by her hair, and she lifted a black clawed hand to brush it away. "Do you need to talk about it?" the other chimera said, a mix of intrique and concern flooding his face. She shook her head no, glancing up at the moon.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Hehe, you have too much talent. Dork! Anyway, I really really liked it. I'm terrible at criticism, though, so don't really expect any words of betterment from me...ever. I just thought it was a really nice poem, very funny, and well-written. You have so much wit, that I bet if we put you in the ocean, it would sink you. =D. I know I'd be a very happy girl if my boyfriend wrote this for me (but he doesn't have to, because he's perfect ^_^)[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]It's been a while, hasn't it? I almost lost this thread. And now, a new one. ------------------------------ [b]Shining[/b] I can feel you moving underneath, you know The darkness ripples in an oh-so blatant way You're not all that you used to be Mr. Boogeyman, face the new age of day No system will you follow Colliding with the floor Rejecting what you don't know I can't see your horror anymore I can see you cowering and I can smell your fear Your antics once so frightening will never pay You're not all that you used to be Mr. Boogeyman, face the new age of day No system will you follow Remove yourself from here Rejecting what you don't know You've lost your impish leer No system will you follow Colliding with the floor Rejecting what you don't know I can't see your horror anymore (there is nothing to fear except fear itself) No system will you follow Colliding with the floor Rejecting what you don't know I can't see your horror anymore No system will you follow Colliding with the floor Rejecting what you don't know I can't see your horror anymore I can't see your horror anymore [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I try really hard not to get dramtaically hurt. I fall down a lot, but it's more fun than painful, and I can just jump right back to my feet and forget about it half the time. But I have had some pretty bad pains in the past...ooh, a painranking system! Good for me! 4. I used to be a kind of sporty person, but not anymore. I was riding my bicycle around the cul-de-sac, and I decided to be adventurous. I screamed, "Born to be wild!" (for some unexplicable reason, I was a very very pathetic child) and jumped off a storm drain. I flew off the bike and injured my ribs, and was lying in the middle of the road in pain. Tsk tsk tsk. It must've been pretty funny, except for the pain. My mom was mad at me for leaving my bicycle in the road, when I came inside to lie down. It fricken' hurt to breath, I wasn't about to go back out there and overexert myself! 3. I'm pretty sure I've broken my left pinky finger twice, consecutively. The first time was in seventh grade, and I was playing basketball with my neighbor. He threw the ball to me, and when I tried to catch it, it bent my finger all the way back. It started swelling and turned blue and yellow, so someone I know from church (who is a pediatrician) told me to tape it to my ring finger to help it heal faster. So, in eighth grade, I was throwing clothes into the washing machine (about an hour before I needed to be asleep) and once again; I bent my left pinky finger back too much and I'm pretty sure it broke. It swelled (sounds like it should be swole, but that's not a word) again, and turned the same sickly shades as before. The most annoying part about that second experience was that the school nurse refused to give me any tape for my obviously painful finger, just because I didn't go to the emergency room when the incident happened. And when she finally did give me tape, it was pointless: she gave me half an inch. I just had to use scotch tape, which I should've done in the first place; it would've saved me yet another insulting experience with the child-hating nurse. >_< 2. I think this happened when I was in sixth grade...I was at church, making crepes (mm, crepes), and wearing these annoyingly trendy backless shoes (because however many friends I did not have, I still tried). Well, I was excited to finally taste the crepes, so I decided to run into the kitchen with those cloggy shoes. However, my ankle slid off the back and bent, and I fainted from the pain. At least I think I did, I only remember sitting down to save my foot, then finding myself lying down on the ground. I only sprained it, though. 1. Period cramps! Enough said![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I've been to several different message boards, tried to maintain an account, and failed, simply because I couldn't keep an interest level high enough to continue going to any of them. OB is the only forum that I enjoy and go to on a mostly daily basis, because most of the members here are extremely intelligent (at least to someone like me) and I can really get inspired by them. It's always interesting to read someone's thought-out opinion on something, and not try to decipher it: "i like sald fngrs a lot bcuz it is rrll rrll funny ya lol." Yeeaaah. That's exaggerated, and not everywhere but hey--I've been on the N message boards. O_O;; most of the members on that board are within a range of ages...maybe 11-16 or 17? They certainly type like it (even the older ones), and they are extremely shallow. I finally just gave up on the board after my first four posts, because I couldn't take it anymore. So, tis a very very good thing that OB is different from a lot of communities. Difference is most often wonderful. By the way, my boyfriend was permanently banned from GameFAQs for posting ONE insult to ONE person, who was in fact a big idiot when it came to rating games ("i give sc3 a 4.5 because the announcer guy is like 'soul calibur.........................................3!') or something like that. I think his ban was overturned, but I don't remember. GameFAQs is not such a great board. *waves the national OB flag while humming the OB anthem*[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Ophelia seemed to just materialize by the tavern's front door, dressed oddly casually for a the dark atmosphere: a soft brown shirt with sleeves that reached her elbows, a knit green shrug around her shoulders, light fitted jeans, and scuffed checkered converse. She sighed, her lipstick red lips shut tight, and scanned her lupine eyes around the room. She was too young a chimera to know the extreme difference between that and human - she didn't even know who to trust. She noticed the two at the bar and instantly recognized them from the lab. Their names slipped her, but they were definitely familiar. Regardless of this, she was uneasy about approaching them. [I]Maybe I should just wait a while[/I], she thought, and took a seat by the window to stare out at the bright crescent moon. Boredly, she produced a pair of black earphones from her pocket and plugged them in, fingering a button on the next generation media player that only came out a month before the lab incident, and drifting away into a pleasance that only her music could bring her now. "Welcome...would you like something to drink?" She paused the media player, right in the middle of one of her most favorite songs, and glanced at the voice. It was a pudgy, middle-aged man with large glasses and a too-tight apron, who obviously didn't notice anything strange about her. She knew that he would if she opened her mouth, and she merely shook her head, careful not to reveal her ears from behind her golden hair. "Nothing? No water?" he asked again. She hated when waiters were persistant like this. She only shook her head, and replayed her media player. She didn't care that she came off as rude, she only cared that she got away with it. She glanced at the chimeras at the bar, wondering if they would pay any attention to her... [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]The guys from Immortal put on their battle faces - er, makeup - and strike very intimidating poses as they prepare to fight to the death against KISS. The conflict? Who started the metal band face paint trend.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Just so everyone knows, this thread isn't just for debating the right to burn a flag, but for everything concerning the first Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Just seemed like that's all we're talking about here... I wrote my paper today, and included something my mother and I realized this morning; traditionally, a damaged flag is burned. It's possible that people who burn the flag think that it has been symbolically damaged and are burning it to show remorse for what we've done in the country. Probably not, but still; it's a thought. =) We're watching the "You Can't SAY That!" video all week, and it's covering a whole bunch of interesting things. I was surprised that a bunch of college students screamed a rational man off their campus because he was trying to start a civil discussion that everybody deserved equal rights from the government. I might've heard wrong, but if I didn't, this seems completely ignorant. The video also went over Death Row; inmates are not allowed to have last words before they are executed. Ultimately, I believe they should be able to say their last words before they are killed. Sure, they weren't humane when they did whatever they did that put them on Death Row, but really: what are a few last words going to hurt anybody? If they say something extremely insulting to the grim reapers, those grim reapers are going to be watching them die anyway. Maybe the person wants to apologize, or say a prayer before they're executed, there's no harm in that. What gives the government the right to be just as inhumane as the killer was when they committed their crime? He who has not sinned may cast the first stone. There shouldn't BE a first stone.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Out of the blue, my American Government teacher started showing us an ABC News video about laws concerning self-expression and gave us an assignment to do on our opinions about flag-burning. "Is it free speech?" I thought it would make an interesting sort of debate, almost, here, so I decided to go ahead with it. This assuming that everyone who plans on participate knows that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and should theirs differ from yours, you are NOT entitled to insult or flame them for it. I'm sure most people accept this, but looking through some past threads (such as the gay marriage thread, which seemed to turn into a heated religious debate), I just want to make sure. My feelings toward self-expression constantly differ. The first Amendment in the Bill of Rights states (I had to memorize something like this for American Government) this: [QUOTE]Congress may not create an official church or enact laws limiting the freedom of religion, speech, the press, assembly, and petition. [/QUOTE] To me, this means that every citizen in the United States is allowed to say whatever they want, they can follow whatever religion they want, or disregard any form of religion at all, print their own opinions in any publication they want, gather in most any place for any reason as they want, and ask for changes within the way things work as they want. Flag-burning, however, is a very strange way of self-expression. I feel both sides of the argument, those for a law against it and those for "self-expression," aren't behaving as they should be. Personally, I don't see burning a flag as such a big deal, other than the open fire endangering everything around it. People can complain all they want about people "desecrating a national symbol," but seriously; what's the point? It's just a piece of cloth. Maybe even a piece of paper. I realize what it means to some people, especially veterans who have gone through a kind of hell in order to save the freedom of the citizens of America. I also realize how many times I have and am going to contradict myself during this little rant, but as I've said before, my opinions change a lot. I suppose I'm kind of trying to figure out exactly where I stand on these issues. I think I might have some very logical reasons against flag-burning, but I [I]am[/I] just fourteen years old. Who knows what my "logic" might really be? The flames that destroy the flag are definitely dangerous, first and foremost, what fire isn't? On the video, it showed a man holding a rather large flaming flag by the only tip that wasn't burning, which only lasted about a second. He dropped it in a hurry, leaving it to burn away on the sidewalk. There were many people around, which increases the safety hazard. Also, what good comes of it? The only way burning a flag will affect anybody in authority is that it will make them very angry. It seems like a childish way to try to get what one wants, by throwing a firey temper tantrum against "the mother"--the government. Finally, many people find it extremely offensive. The people who burn the flag have done nothing to help the country improve, and if they obviously don't like the way things are being done...Canada's just across the northern border. Now, for my "logical reasons" as to why there shouldn't be a law against flag-burning. It's just a flag. Seriously. I know if it were a prize from a great war, a literal certificate of freedom won by the ardor of many many people who were wounded or killed, then it would definitely be wrong to burn it. However, I now feel more against flag-burning than when I started this thread, so I'm glad I did. This could really help me on my assignment. Now, aside from flag-burning, there are lots of other dampers that points of authority have put on freedom of "self-expression" (which isn't mentioned in the first amendment, anyway. Religion, speech, press, assembly, and petition doesn't mean 'I have the right to wear provocative clothing to school because it's against the law to limit freedom of self-expression' or 'I have the right to burn this flag because I'm expressing myself'). The thing I've experienced that I've gotten the most worked up over is the discrimination against Christians: certain jobs and schools prohibit their staff and students from wishing someone a merry Christmas. THIS is just plain ridiculous. Not only is it limiting freedom of speech, but also freedom of religion. Frankly, I don't see what is just so darn offensive about "Merry Christmas." I'd be offended if someone didn't say that to me (depending on how close I am to such a person, I don't care what strangers or accquaintances say to me). Obviously, it's a phrase of good will and love, and nothing more. However, those same places that banned Christmas have [B]allowed[/B] "Happy Hanukkah," another religious wintertime holiday, and every other form of religious and non-religious winter greeting. Why not Christmas? Even non-Christians celebrate it, for pete's sake. However, I don't like to see obscene language or other types of profanity in public. I don't like to hear it on the radio (which I hardly ever listen to anyway), nor on TV, nor anywhere else. I don't like it, and sometimes I can't help but be exposed to it. No one can tell me that, "If you don't like it, don't watch/read/listen to/look at it," because sometimes I can't stop it from coming to me. I know this falls under freedom of speech, but is it really necessary? This might be the last point I touch on, because I have some other things I really need to do. The video showed groups of angry angry Catholics protesting the movie "Dogma." Why? They say it was blasphemous; a hate crime. Obviously, none of them were forced at gun- or knife-point to watch the movie, and none of them were shot, stabbed, burned, mentally corrupted, possessed, smothered, etc., while watching this movie. I haven't seen it myself, so I wouldn't really know how "offensive" it was to the people who said it was. But a hate crime? That's a bit much. So, what are your opinions on these things (and things I haven't mentioned?) Just how free should we be with our "self-expression?" Who has the right to ban something from some people, and not ban the same thing from other people? It is a very confusing concept, and I'm going to try to get some light shed on the whole thing. [QUOTE] [I]My father says anyone can burn the flag, as long as they wrap themselves in it before they set it on fire.[/I][/QUOTE] -my American Government teacher[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Wouldn't it be great if people just randomly burst into song, like on Broadway? I have the perfect idea for this: Dance magic dance, dance magic - put that baby's spell on me! Jump magic jump, jump magic - put that baby's spell on me, SLAP THAT BABY! Make him free! Anyway, I think it's great that schools are including DDR in their curriculum. Heck, if my school was that smart, I wouldn't be taking PE online! (Which completely defeats the purpose of PE, but I don't care. I have home DDR). I might even have some friends with my amazing l337 DDR skills, who knows! =) Alas, Florida has yet to realize this concept, much to my (and assured many others') dismay. Maybe someday before I graduate! Now I realize how badly I need to play DDR, but I have a headache. AND I'm watching Labyrinth. Dance magic dance... I just hope that a childs grade in class won't be determined by their grade on the machine. Seriously, that would suck. I can't do heavy DDR on a machine, and that's the best mode there is for me. I'm sure no class would be that unfair, though, DDR can be pretty tough.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I really love the Kingdom Hearts soundtrack.

[FONT=Arial]Sure, sure! So much for explaining things, I just don't feel like it anymore. 1. Pick a Band or Artist: [B]Siouxsie and the Banshees[/B] 2. Are you male or female: [B]She's a Carnival[/B] 3. Describe yourself: [B]Lonely One [/B] 4. How do some people feel about you: [B]Silly Thing [/B] 5. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend: [B]Not Forgotten [/B] 6. Describe your current boyfriend/girlfriend: [B]Candyman[/B] 7. Describe where you want to be: [B]Paradise Place[/B] 8. Describe how you love: [B]Kiss Them For Me [/B] 9. What would you ask if you had just one wish: [B]The Sweetest Chill [/B] 10. Share a few words of wisdom: [B]Blow The House Down [/B] 11. Now say goodbye: [B]Lullaby[/B] Alternatively; 1. Placebo 2. Scared of [B]Girl[/B]s 3. Passive Aggressive 4. Teenage Angst 5. Sleeping With Ghosts 6. My Sweet Prince 7. English Summer Rain 8. I'll Be Yours 9. Second Sight 10. Protect Me From What I Want 11. The Bitter End OH, two in one post! What choo gon' do, then? Oh well. [/FONT]

[quote name='? Nomad Tical ?']Hm, you know I really liked this. It was highly descriptive, which is nice, something I have a very hard time with. The entire thing was orchestrated very well, though the only minor thing that bugged me was the gangsters saying 'What the crap' XD. Other than that, very nice.[/quote] [FONT=Arial]Yeaah, I'm really not comfortable with being any more profane than just "crap." I considered making it something like, "What the -- did you just DO?" or something, but ultimately abandoned the idea. I'm glad the other two threads got deleted, though. What an embarrassing accident. xP;;[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]*gasp* My first RPG. Eee! I'm glad you came up with this, because I was afraid I'd hardly ever get a chance to try to play along with something I liked. Name: Ophelia Kröger Gender: Female Age: 21 Caste: Canis lupis, wolf chimera (I'm so happy you included this, I know exactly what to do with it!) Appearance: She stands at only 5'3" tall, and is somewhat underweight. Her parents, who have since disowned her, were also quite petite, which accounts for her small stature. Her hair, golden blonde with an unnatural shine, falls to her shoulders and very gently twirls into elegant ringlets. Her cynical blue slitted eyes, both haggard and angry, shimmer brightly under the silver moonlight. Being small, her body never really matured; her thin curves are only slight and her bosom, while proportionate to her chest and head, would disappoint the average human woman (and man). She may be one of the least obvious chimeras of the whole lot, unless one is close enough to see her hairless pointed ears and sharp black fingernails. Her mouth always in a tight frown, her near vampiric canine teeth are hidden and cannot giveaway her true race. Though she detests humans for both making her the way she is, and hating her for the way she is, she tries to fit in with them in an exterior way: often seen in human clothing (such as fitted jeans, converse, and sweaters). However, at night, she sports outfits (such as [URL=http://www.dracinabox.com/pinstripebust2.jpg][B]this[/B][/URL] ) that humans don't normally see in public, as she can live as a wolf chimera would without any human interference. Personality: She is angry at humans, and has no problem expressing it. Reticent and often morose, she could be mistaken for a younger teenage human with an angst problem. She can only trust other chimeras, and even then, she feels completely alone. Other than her blatantly hateful attitude, she is a very enigmatic figure. Weapons/Skills: Should she need them, her "fingernails" are very effective claws, as well as her long, sharp fangs that cut like knives. Being a wolf chimera, her senses are slightly better than those of humans, as well as her stamina and strength. She can smell anything from at least two miles away, and can run to the location in about eight minutes (depending how far away it was). Even with the enhanced skills she possesses, she is not perfect, and is often afraid for her own life... Writing Example: This could not be true. Her reflection must be warped - this must be a strange, funhouse type mirror. She knew what she looked like, and the mirror was not showing it. It was trying to tell her that she resembled one of those chimeras that were becoming all the more abundant in the area, and she knew that she was an average human being. "You're lying," she told the mirror, as if it would comprehend her distraught tone of voice and begin to show her the truth. However, it only made her terror much worse. Fangs. Her teeth were long and sharp, like a blasted vampire. She shook her head frantically, convinced that she was having a terrible nightmare. A lucid dream gone terribly wrong. She tried to remember falling asleep in her own bed, but could only recall... "Did it go this way?" came a voice, followed by a constant bass of thudding footsteps against the cold metal floor. Ophelia turned from the mirror, startled, even though she figured it was only a nightmare. The voices were male, and incredibly horrible. They were only voices that seemed to belong to normal, human men, but they were extremely frightening. They lacked any emotion, and filled Ophelia's heart with foreboding. "It's footsteps. See them? On the floor, going toward the bathroom." The voices grew louder, as did the footsteps. Ophelia's terror increased - almost to the point of collapsing to the floor in a teary heap. Suddenly, she noticed things that she hadn't noticed a mere second ago: her vision was much clearer and brighter, and her other senses were sharper. She could smell that the men who approached were wearing cheap cologne, regardless of the fact that they were at least twenty feet away, behind a closed metal door. Their voices sounded as if they were right outside, but she could sense that they were further away. "What's happening to me?" she asked herself aloud, reaching her hands to rub her tired eyes. Pain shot through her eyelids, and she yelped. The dream was too vivid and real; her fingernails had become pointed and black, like claws, and she had inadvertedly stabbed herself with them. The men were closing in quickly - she didn't have time to worry about the strange changes the dream had done to her. She glanced around, heartbeat speeding up, for any means of escape. Her surroundings finally became clear - she had only noticed her wrong reflection in the mirror on the wall when the dream began. The nightmare was taking place in an eerily clean, white, stoic bathroom; a men's bathroom, oddly enough, due to the urinals on the walls. She couldn't take the time to be disgusted, as she sensed the carriers of the scary voices were opening the door to the bathroom as she thought. "Are you in there?!" one of the men exclaimed, stupidly. She wouldn't answer him, she was smarter than that. The other man seemed to slap his partner in unconcious agreement with Ophelia, and then pushed open the metal door. As if something possessed her to do so, she let out a vicious cry and leapt on to the man who entered. He screamed in fear, just as she screamed in anger, and lifted his hands to protect himself as he fell to the floor. The other man reached into his labcoat pocket and produced a small, clear syringe, filled with a bubbly yellow liquid. Before he could inject it into her, Ophelia quickly attacked him and knocked the syringe from his grasp. "Oh my Go--!!" he cried, slamming himself into the wall instinctively and sliding into a protective fetal position. She didn't even have to look at either of them before taking off down the hall - she didn't want to put human faces and stories into the dream, feeling extremely guilty for hurting both men. She didn't even know why she did, or how she could; it seemed as though she had become a vicious animal. Frantic voices rang in her ears, calling for help against an "escaped experiment." Experiment K. Why did that sound so familiar to her? She almost felt as if it were her own name... Every time she met up with another man in the hallways through which she ran, the same wild animal broke from her spirit and wrought havoc upon the unfortunate being that got in her way. She couldn't control herself, no matter how badly she wanted to just evade the person and continue running. "What am I running from?" she asked herself, approaching a large, open door. This must be the exit, she thought, happiness and relief filling her tense mind. She didn't need to answer her own question; she knew what she was running from. Fear. Strangely, she met no more faceless men as she leapt out the door and continued in her race against no one. Regardless that the moon shone as only a sliver in the dark black sky, she could make out every car, bush, tree, every obstacle that she might've run into if she were awake. Now that she wasn't in the hot white building anymore, she seemed to like this dream. At least, she enjoyed it until her dream-self fell asleep, on the ground in an open grassy field. She enjoyed it until she awoke under a burning red sun, the field still an open, grassy one. It was not a dream after all. Several hours of incredulous thought turned into several more hours of hysterical weeping. She really was...a chimera. ---- Eep. Not so great. Oh well, it was interesting to do. =) I almost made it a "twenty gallon brass syringe...filled with holy water..." but then I thought, "Leave Rasputina where Rasputina be." [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]I've had the idea for this ever since I was in the fifth grade (2001, I think), and it's slowly been fleshing itself out over the years. I've had plenty of different attempts to write and rewrite it, but this is my best on yet. I haven't worked on it in a while, and I really only have this first part done enough to share. I hope any comments I might get will inspire me to continue working on it. =) And thus, it begins: ------ The phosphorescent stars white-washed an otherwise dark black night sky, casting serene light and ambience over the world below--even though the lit streetlamps made the sky harder to read. Cool November air circled around every moving object and collected close to the ground, the worn black sneakers that stepped lightly across the sidewalk kicking up the faint mist. The boy was alone and tired, his hands shoved into the pockets of a hooded navy track-jacket that was zipped halfway up. His blue eyes and smooth blond hair shone under the artificial light made by the street lamps, giving his skin a pale tone. A fleeting sigh escaped his colorless lips as he followed the sidewalk around the corner; the street sign had been blacked out by graffiti. This obviously wasn?t a very good place to be at night, but the boy was there nonetheless. He had the appearance of a skinny boy of fifteen, but the eyes and demeanor of an adult cynic. He was very mature for his age; such that he was isolated from other teenagers in his school. He was the only sophomore who had a job at a coffeehouse, as far as he knew, which was both gratifying and lonesome. His friends each had different jobs that they were perfectly happy with, and even if they did want to work for Obscurities Coffeehouse, there wouldn?t be any open positions for them. There wouldn?t be any positions at any other Obscurities Coffeehouse, either; Mont Eneigé was the only city in the world with a single Obscurities building. Mont Eneigé was also the only city in the country that had such fierce rivalries with its neighbor, Bay City. The cities were both very small and modern, but Mont Eneigé was much more sophisticated than Bay City. The former town was completely French in origin, with a history of giving the world talented artists, writers, musicians, and the like. However, Bay City had a poor school system and was overrun with bad neighborhoods and a few gangs who enjoyed playing rough with Mont Eneigé locals. No one in either town was sure what spurred the tension, but it was common knowledge that Bay City mostly carried it on. The boy?s parents always warn him to be careful when walking to school, to work, and back to the safety of his home. The legal driving age of Mont Eneigé was sixteen, and the boy didn?t even have his permit yet, so he had to travel on foot to his every destination. This was especially dangerous, however, especially since Bay City tough guys like to wander over to Mont Eneigé and show their strength on the lover-not-fighter locals. In his past year of working for Obscurities and walking home at ten o?clock at night, he had never encountered a Bay City enemy, and he didn?t plan on ever meeting one. He had long since tired of his nightly route from the coffeehouse, seeing the same black river every single night, the same sleeping houses with their windows still boarded up from the freak blizzard hurricane of the previous year. Seeing the plywood nailed over the windows reminded him of how terrible the storm was; the circulation of cold rain, snow, sleet, and heavy frigid winds had formed from the remains of Hurricane Frances, freezing over in the Georgia mountains, strengthening, and heading straight for Mont Eneigé and the neighboring cities. The weathermen on TV had all begged the residents to board up and evacuate?they were so nervous because nothing like this had ever happened before. His mind wandered, thinking about the phenomenon. Forecasters predicted a storm with the force of Hurricane Camille that ravaged coastal areas several years ago. This tore huge rifts of fear in the hearts of everyone in Mont Eneigé; some overreacted and feared that the apocalypse was nearing. Someone with the National Hurricane Center came up with the term ?Cryocane? a list of alphabetical names, beginning with Amelia. He was so busy thinking about Cryocane Amelia that he missed the next right turn into his home cul-de-sac of Appartenez Circle. He continued forward until he reached an alleyway, turning into it by mistake. The realization that he was not in his neighborhood came with the light of a fire burning inside of a garbage can. He snapped back into reality, blinking, calculating where he went wrong inside his head. His eyes intent on the trash can blaze, they didn?t notice the shadows lurking toward him. ?Andrew Crystal,? said a deep, male voice. The boy glanced around, searching for the source?a tall blond boy in a Bay City High School shirt stepped into the light. ?How do you know my name?? Andrew wanted to know. The boy gestured to Andrew?s chest, and he looked down to see his employee name tag protruding from his jacket. His boss would climb down his back about forgetting to hang it up the next time he checked into work. Several other boys gathered around Andrew and the first boy, smirks on their unfamiliar faces. ?We don?t have an Obscurities Coffeehouse in Bay City.? the stranger said, inching forward. Andrew connected the boy?s almost smug attitude and the small mob surrounding him, and ended up with an unnerving solution to everything. ?Why is a BC gang loitering around here? It?s like you?re just asking for trouble.? Andrew knew that he was standing in the middle of what could be a vicious organization from the rival city, but he couldn?t show his anxiety. He figured the gang members were like dogs?they could smell fear on anybody. Provoking them was probably not such a good idea, though. ?Picking off what we don?t want around. Lucky you.? Andrew?s heartbeat fluttered, his muscles tensing. He heard the breathing of the gang behind him, and he realized that he had no chance to escape. How grim, he thought, Garrett: if my mental telepathy is working, come help me out. ?I have no attachment to Mont Eneigé, whatsoever, okay? I hate this stupid rivalry between our cities. Please, just let me go. I need to get home.? he tried to reason. It was apparent that the gang leader didn?t care for civility. Someone grabbed him from behind, locking his arms around Andrew?s arms and hips and lifting him off the ground slightly. He couldn?t move his arms at all, which let a furtive spark of fear shock his face momentarily. ?Get ?im, Art.? said Andrew?s captor. The gang leader tightened his fist and lunged forward, sending it into his victim?s stomach. Andrew winced?it hurt mildly, but it was nothing serious. His mind was working on remembering various escape techniques that he was taught in Karate during the third grade. Art punched again, hitting the same spot. The pain had lessened; Andrew almost laughed at the gang leader?s feeble strength. The boy who was holding him wasn?t very smart to let his legs dangle; before Art could strike again, Andrew bent his knees and pushed against his captor?s hips. The boy let go of him and stumbled backwards, into a fellow gang member. Andrew landed on his knees, which hurt more than Art?s knuckles, and rolled to the side to stand up. Art wasn?t as slow as he had hoped, as the gang leader whirled to face Andrew and sent another punch, this time at the boy?s face. Instinctively, Andrew yelped and threw his arms over his head to protect his skull. The gang had become angry, and they were all leaping on to him at once. The smell of sweat and body heat gave Andrew nausea, in addition to the pain of the random attacks he was receiving. He became dizzy before long, and he only wanted to pass out and play dead. His stomach bubbled and he felt something rise up within him?he was sure he was about to throw up. Instead, there was a scintillating flash and a burst of heat, and Andrew?s hair stood on end. Suddenly, the whole gang was toppled over on the ground several feet away from him. The boy lowered his shielding arms and gasped, looking closely at everyone to make sure they weren?t unconscious. They were at least alive, and they were slowly collecting themselves, yelling to each other in worry and fear. Andrew heard the names Art, Jay, and Ryan a few times, so he made a mental note of them to report to authorities. He stepped back, worried, unsure of what just occurred. However, as concerned as he was, the gang was hysterical. ?What the crap did you just do?? screamed one of them. Andrew couldn?t see any of them in the dark; he realized his vision was getting dim. ?Does he have a flamethrower? Who the crap carries a flamethrower!?? ?Let?s get out of here!? Andrew pressed himself against the wall, clutching his churning stomach and softening his breath. The gang was running from the alley wildly, calling for each other. Their frightened voices faded away, and he held his breath, listening closely to make sure that the gang hadn?t left one behind to finish the fight. After a short while, he was sure that he was the only one in the dark alley. He edged against the wall, still holding his stomach as he walked out of the alley, and the light of the streetlamps illuminated him in the dark night. His house wasn?t too far, but he stumbled the whole way. His eyelids refused to remain wide open, and he was so nauseous he was afraid he would vomit on the side of the road. It hadn?t rained in a while, so this was the last thing he wanted to do. A splitting headache burst through his skull, nearly collapsing him on the sidewalk. Three more minutes of pained walking and he was finally at the front door to his two story house at the end of a cul-de-sac. He fumbled for his key in his jeans pocket, but found the door was unlocked before he found it. Slightly bewildered, he stepped into the house cautiously. ?Mom?? he whispered, peering into the unlit living room. He glanced upstairs to see if his parents? bedroom light was on, but strangely, it was not. Andrew pulled the door shut behind him and locked it, slowly making his way up the stairs. At the top, he squinted into the darkness that was his parents? bedroom, and found them both fast asleep. He felt he should let them have their rest, and he would deal with his problem in the morning. He decided to sit on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, in case the nausea became too severe. Within five minutes, he was fast asleep, leaning against the bathroom wall. ------- So, like I said, I hope I'll get the inspiration to continue working on this. Oh, and I just realized that the cryocane shares my username. Silly me, it's not out of vanity (it's not even my real name), it was just the very first name that started with an A that I thought of. There's also a character in this story that shares my EXACT SAME alias (Amelia Julia Revenant). I guess I just really adore that name. =)[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Mario: Double you tee eff?! Bowser: Thanks a bunch for taking that crazy woman off my paws. About another week of PMS and I'd have died![/FONT]

[quote name='Starwind']This is actually a pretty cool idea here. I just put mine up and I'm taking alook around. So few of us live anywhere near the Tarpon area or even the Tampa area. Where are all the sweaty Florida nerds, man. It's just me and Stark. Why are we alone down here.[/quote] [FONT=Arial] And Amelia, you forgot to mention Amelia. =) I was a little nervous about the marker pinpointing our location at first, but since it's not sc'reet address or real name, I'm sure I'll have no stalkers coming to find me. It's less revealing than myspace, at least. *shudder.*[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Do the songs have to be all originals, or can they be covers? Oh well, I'm doing it my way. >=) 1. Pick a Band or Artist: Rasputina My favorite band in the world, whom I'm currently obsessing over. I figure with their many many songs, I'll be able to find one for each category. 2.Are you male or female: Herb Girls of Birkenau The lyrics don't really describe anything about my gender, but the title mentions that I am a girl. =) 3.Describe yourself: Any Old Actress Again, the title alone is enough for me. I'm just a regular old actress. 4. How do some people feel about you: Endomorph I believe an endomorph is considered to be a very passive, quiet person? I maybe wrong, but I sort of remember looking it up. 5.Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend: Mr. E. Leon Rauis Since my ex boyfriend (all though I hate the term) came from an online relationship, this is great for him. We only communicated through emails, and recently he hasn't been mailing me. For months. He lived in Louisiana, too, so I'm even more worried about him. "Regretfully so he still wants you to know of the things in his heart he can't say. His penmenship does a disservice, it's illegible to this day. Oh, Mr. E. Leon Rauis believe me, I hope it all turned out okay." 6.Describe your current boyfriend/girlfriend: The New Zero The title is somewhat helpful; my boyfriend goes by Forever Zero on MSN (from Chrono...either Cross or Trigger, I don't remember). Also, "He has agreed to take me to the Ice Hotel from the magazine" reminds me of him, because he's willing to do almost anything he can for me. 7.Describe where you want to be: My Little Shirtwaiste Fire I'm not sure about this one, either, but I'm pretty sure the Triangle Shirtwaiste Company was in New York. *_*!! 8.Describe how you love: Brand New Key Rasputina makes this song seem stalkerish. "I rode my bicycle past your window last night..." is proof enough. XD. I love Rasputina, as I think I've mentioned, so put two and two together. =) 9.What would you ask if you had just one wish: Cooped I'd wish to be "cooped" up in a room with Rasputina. Seriously. 10.Share a few words of wisdom: Bad Moon Rising "Don?t go around tonight, it?s bound to take your life. There?s a bad moon on the rise." I know it was originally Creedence Clearwater Revival, but I ADORE Rasputina's version. It's much darker than the original, and heavier (which is strange to say about cellos, but it seriously is). So, that's my advice. It's like "people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones." 11.Now say goodbye: Dwarfstar "I wanna tell ya 'bout my friend the dwarfstar. The last time that I went to see him, he had passed away!!" And also, after this finality in the poor little dwarfstar's life, they say "the end" when the time comes. Perfect!![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Holy crap, I thought I'd never meet someone who likes Voltaire, much less one who has even heard of them! Yaaaaay! I especially like "Goodnight Demon Slayer." Rasputina is another amusing band, as well as the BEST band in the entire world. They've also been classified as goth (all though I've read that they prefer not to be called that), and they play ONLY cellos (with the exception of the only male member, who plays drums). Cellos are better than air. For reals. Most of their lyrics are amusing, so it's kind of hard to pick just one. Kate Moss, The Donner Party, Nozzle, Five Fleas, and Christian Soldiers are actually just monologues read over some pleasant cello, often in a very strange way (i.e., Nozzle and Kate Moss are read by a seemingly deep voiced country bumpkin, the Donner Party is read by the singer with a Kansas/British kind of accent [and is interrupted by the bumpkin from Nozzle and Kate Moss in a hilarious way], Five Fleas is a layered monologue of the singer speaking the same speech in two different pitches and rhythms with a New Yorker accent, and Christian Soldiers has her speaking in a soft, British voice.) I suppose I shall first share Christian Soldiers, because I love it: [B]Christian Soldiers[/B] The medevial exorcists used a 20-gallon Brass syringe. A 20-gallon brass syringe, filled with holy water. A 20-gallon brass syringe filled with holy water which they put into, Into the anus of the possessed. and now for a real song: [B]Rats[/B] Very many years ago, the Bolivians were starving so, They had rats as big as ponies there. They asked the Pope To declare them fish. We thank the Pope for granting us this wish. When Friday comes, we'll all call rats fish. We catch them with a net, kill with the gun. We'll call it all forgotten when we're done. They didn't look like rats at all, but like some horrendous horse doll. Still they had to eat this thing. In gratitude, the Pope-they kissed his ring. We thank the Pope for granting us this wish. When Friday comes, we'll all call rats fish. We catch them with a net, kill with the gun. We'll call it all forgotten when we're done. We'll call it all forgotten when we're done. If you're interested in hearing Rats, they have a studio remake (live) on their [URL=http://myspace.com/rasputina]myspace[/URL] (that's a link, by the way).[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Oh nose, I'm not the only Floridian. Oh well, I don't care. =) That thing is super nifty. I just wish I were located in Europe or something...some place more interesting than where I am. >=( [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial]Aaah, the vocals came out slightly better than I expected, but they're nothing special. It makes me really sad. =(. Anyway, I've uploaded it to my band's myspace, so the song should be available within a few days. Notice that I slightly changed the song, and that it's title is "Five Gold Pieces." Now, I don't expect anyone here to know what I'm talking about in the song -- that's because I wrote it specifically about my eighth grade year in middle school. "Woods are for people who think they know what they want" is referring to Into the Woods, a broadway musical that combines fairytales and sends them "into the woods" to get what they want (the baker and his wife want a child, Cinderella wants to go to the king's festival, etc.). I was a part of this musical (the junior version) the summer after my eighth grade year, and it was the best experience I ever had. "Taking a bow with a neckline that swallows everything" refers to the dress I wore as Cinderella's stepmother, which had the biggest neckline I've ever worn. I even made a joke about it, because Lucinda was complaining that I didn't put the gold slipper on her foot after cutting off her heel (ItW is MUCH better than Disney. >=). To this I said, "Well, I had a choice between shoe and neckline: shoe, neckline, shoe, neckli--I'm picking neckline." Because if I bent over, the neckline would droop. And I've got...cleavage. =). So there, that's the story behind it. It's about eighth grade and not wanting to leave my friends. Simple, non?[/FONT]