The Harlequin

[font=gothic]OOC: Anything between Alastuin and Davien is only a subplot, one that does not concern your character. Your slipping in of the Legend/Twilight stuff is unoriginal, to say the least. And while your reading this, would you please make your posts clearer?[/font]

[font=gothic]Cloricus, this might surprise you, but every now and again I decide to display a veneer of manners. Try it sometime, it's great opportunity to stab people in the back afterwards. Anyway. As for the (and I paraphrase)"Would you go off to war?" part, no Liam, I would not. If people wish to invade Australia, I would resist, but under no circumstances would I sacrafice my life for a cause so removed from affecting me that it was almost ironic. You know that already, but this gives people a chance to argue with me[/font]

[font=gothic]Just as a note, if anybody wants to get on Jesus Chicken's back about his comments, save your time. It's my fault he's like that. The thing is though, even if they blew each other away, there would still be citizens in other countries, people who had left their homeland, only to find it completely destroyed, who would most certainly resort to the original problems. We'd just have another wave of terrorists. When it comes to war, there is never a solution that everybody likes, and if you really want to kill people to solve your problems, you had better be prepared to kill the whole damn world. Not that I'd object if someone did that... LIFE IS AN ABERRATION OF TIME AND SPACE![/font]

[font=gothic]Alright, this is probably going to offend some people, but I'll say it anyway. The ANZAC legend is the most glorified stupidity around. We celebrate the fact that a bunch of people sat in a hole for a while, then ran in and got themselves shot due to general idiocy on the general's part. How is this noble? How did this sacrafice that proved nothing really help us?[/font]

[font=gothic]Hehehe, I'm with you there. Although, you know that I wouldn't care no matter what. To keep this on something resembling topic, and perhaps to back up my earlier point, doesn't this kind of sentiment just show what all these skirmishes do? They desensitise people. I mean, every night, we hear something like "Two civilians died today", or something. Eventually we just think, So what? People die. It's war. What do they expect?. And we just tend to ignore it. So really, skirmishes are even worse than real war.[/font]

[font=gothic]At which point they'd be too messed up to do anything in retaliation anyway... Really though, if Pakistan and India go to war, they should do it right. Killing a mere few soldiers who were only killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time isn't war, it's a skirmish. If they're going to bother the rest of the world with threats of war, at least resolve the situation one and for all. Otherwise, it will just recurr every few years. Every generation at best. On a large picture, the death toll would end up being less if one completely destroyed the other now, than possible aeon's of strife.[/font]

[font=gothic]Spyder: So what now. Harlequin: They're in rather loud vehicles, although they won't be going so fast. Is there any cover around? [I]Looking around, they spy a stunted group of trees, far too withered to provice any cover. Slightly behind the trees, there is a small, grassy knoll.[/I] Harlequin: Perfect. Here's the plan. I go stand in the middle of the trees, and feign exhaustion, of injury. The rest of you hide behind that small hil there. Athen, you still have your shrapnel grenads don't you? Athen: Yes. Harlequin: Then the rest is simple. Rico: That depends. How fast can you run. Harlequin: At least as fast as the rest of you. Besides, I'm already dead. I'm not going to expose the rest of you to something like that. [I]With no further words, the group set off, heading towards the nightmarish grove.[/I][/font]

[font=gothic]Davien: Well, I followed Spyder, Cathos followed me, and I don't really know who this other...person... is. I'm sure Spyder could shed some light on it though. Spyder: Maybe later. Davien: As you wish. Anyway, was there anything else you wanted to know, or did I just answer everything? Saethi: How about details? Davien: If you want. I was busy, when Spyder decided to slip out. I was fairly sure she was going to attempt to...procure... my car again, so I followed her. When she didn't, I became even more curious as to why she would leave without saying anything, after all the trouble she took getting in to my place at all. After the little, ahem, fiasco that occured when she reached here,... [I]Davien breaks off and points to the other room, which still houses the smoking ruin of Luke[/I]... this, perosn turned up, and, in the midst of claiming to be Luke's girlfriend... Saethi (interrupting: But Luke doesn't have a girlfriend. Davien: Exactly. Now, as I was saying. In the middle of that line, she got herself thrown against the wall, and then injured a fair bit. Then, Cathos turned up, how I don't know. Especially since he was meant to be in America. Any enlightening comments on that Cathos? Cathos: Basically, I wanted you out of my way, so I could deal with the slayer and her pet vamps. Davien: Why didn't you invite me to come along, or even tell me. Cathos: Because you'd probably ignore their existence. Davien: True, I'll admit, but still. Anyway, now that my, and Cathos's side of the story has come up, why don't you people rgace us with yours? [I]Davien looks expectantly, first at Spyder, then at the other person in the room.[/I][/font]

[font=gothic]Selective breeding is not really accomplishing much. It basically condenses the gene pool, which just leads to the point where it's only one step off inbreeding. And we all know what happens there. And cloricus, it wouldn't be humans despising (his term, not mine) "Sub species", it would be the other way around. Everyone who has anything to do with something like that would be aware of the consequences. Eventually "normal" human's would be wiped out. Everyone has seen the movies. No Ethics Commitee in the world will approve something like this, unless some kind of catchsafe is put in. Say, the altered cells are sensitive to a certain kind of radiation. Which means the whole idea is flawed even in conception, which makes it nothing more than a money wasting affair, that would probably eventually develop into the other option, the extinction of all but the altered.[/font]

[font=gothic]OOC: Oh, I'm sure we'll be able to keep things going, just maybe not keep this in a recognisable state. If you do get back on, and you have a definite storyline in mind, why don't you PM it to me, and anybody else who wants it. Might keep it on track.[/font]

[font=gothic] Yes Raiha, I am aware of it. I was posting this for Ravenstorture, so I thought I keep it here, rather than cluttering up another thread. Besides, less people will read it here. I'm only writing it for her.[/font]

Most martial arts involve weapons training at a higher level, although most of it is merely quarterstaff, and sword training. A few use nunchukas, but people tend to injure themselves more with them. When I did karate, about half of what we did was quarterstaff fighting, with a bit of Japanese style fencing thrown in. What's better than using weapons though, is learning to use martial arts and weapons in conjunction.

[font=gothic][I]Vukodlak pulls out his twin scimitars, slicing elaborate patterns in the air, that quickly changed to an X block when a villager swung a scythe at him. Using one scimitar to redirect the weapon downwards, the other snakes across the hapless man's throat. As another villager, this one armed with a rusty sword, attacks, Vukodlak ducks a clumsy slash, spinning and slicing the villagers other arm off with a rising blow. Amazingly, the injured man still attacks, again slashing at his head. Vukodlak blocks, twists his blade around into a bind, and wrenches the attacker's blade free. Vukodlak kicks the weakening body out of the way, ready for his next opponent.[/I][/font]

[font=gothic]OOC: I don't have anything against your character Sarsy, it's just the way Davien acts. [I]Startled by a knock, Davien turns around. Sidling up, he opens it cautiously, peering out. Outside stands a well-dressed woman, youngish. She's also inhuman.[/I] Woman: Hello, I'm Luke's girlfr... [I]The woman's statement is cut off as Davien's hand snakes out and takes her by the throat, pulling her into the room and throwing her against the opposite wall.[/I] Davien: I recommend you tell the truth this time. Spyder: You! Davien: How come everyone except me knows everybody else? Woman: I am Mazine. You will regret that. Davien: I have never regretted anything in my life. [I]Mazine walks over and grabs Davien by the neck, unconciously mimicing his earlier pose. Davien however, grabs her wrist, steps back and twists, bringing his other hand over on to her elbow. From this armlock position, his right foot comes up, hitting her with a cresent kick to the head. With his foot on her shoulder, he lets her go. She stands bolt upright, trying to grab his foot. Davien however brings his foot bavk sharply, throwing her to the ground...by the neck.[/I] Davien: As I said. [I]They are interrupted by a voice from the door.[/I] Cathos: Damn it, can't you stay out of trouble for five minutes?[/font]

[font=gothic] Sorry to inflict this on you everyone. It was the best I could come up with in ten minutes. [I]A Toast To The Darkness In my Soul[/I] Lo! The hero doth return with spoils of war! Twisted beyond recognition by toil Did you pray for no such ending, Or do you lie with your being, And not just your facile mouth? Does it haunt you at night, blistering, Your dreams a weaving tapestry Of what you could have had, As opposed to what you have spawned. A wreck, I told you I was. A quivering mass of nerves. Did you choose which string to pluck? You play me like a tightly strung violin. Yet I care not, after all. I love every minute of it, As much as I am enamoured of you. No one else could have affected me. You took what I was, the mixed up ingredients, And bound them together. You made me. All that I am, all potential, is from you. You are more than a goddess to me. They say we are kindred spirits, Two so alike as to be uncanny. Yet this is not so my love. We are one. You yourself are the cause, The root from which I spring. This silvered verse befits you not, As little as it befits the world. You cannot deceive me. Our love for each other is whole. I know you lie to me not. Your word is my heart. [/font]

[font=gothic]Now, if you send this into NASA, what kind of reaction are you expecting? A little more detail would have helped, and breaking it up would have increased the visual appeal.[/font]

[font=gothic]Well, isn't that a rather pointless question, considering what you just read? And cloricus, cautioning someone about spelling mistakes. Egad, that's a sad state of affairs. Anyway... It would be more "reader friendly", I suppose the term is, if you separated it somewhat. Paragraphs actually add suspense, especially in a situation like this where you do not have to worry about breaking the momentum.[/font]

[font=gothic]Too simply phrased. Too cloyingly dramatic...[/font]

What's more important, the government, or the people? Especially in a communism style vote... Communism is one of those ideals that tarnish as soon as they touch air, or as soon as they are befouled by human hands. Nobody wants to change unless it benefits them in some way.

[font=gothic]Davien: Well, wasn't this adventure fun? We seem to have managed to get most of ourselves rather wounded. Anathema: I don't see any blood on you. Davien: Of course you don't. I'm more fastidious than you. [I]The rest of the walk passes in silence, broken only by the laboured, hissing breath of Terran and Yuugi. After a while, they reach a medium-sized village.[/I] Kain: We may as well. They should have a healer. [I]They walk on in, Kain flashing the gate guard an ominous look as he starts to question them. The gate guard subsides, but glares at them after they walk past. The main street of the village contains the usual, general store, inn, etc. Stopping a well-dressed passerby, Davine enquires, "Is there a healer in this town?".[/I] Stranger: Get your hands off me knave! If you must know, there is one at the very end of this street. Now take your diseased, baseborn self away form me before I call the watch. [I]Davien lets him go. As the man starts to walk off, Davien bends and grabs his foot, spinning out and under the man's now upraised leg, while using his other foot to kick the effeminate man's remaining leg off the ground. Held up by Davien's grip on one foot, the pansy falls facefirst in the mud. Davien drops his leg and places a foot between the groaning courtier's shoulderblades.[/I] Davien: Thank you for the information. [I]As they start to walk off, Davien mutters under his breath, "Why must the world be left profligate with those well-dressed butterflies?". After leaving their injured at the healer's, who mentions that they may need as much as a week to heal fully, the remaining companions avail themselves to the inn. After being seated, and buying a few tankards, Davien suddenly bursts out laughing.[/I] Anathema: What's so funny? Davien: That man I stopped in the street was over there. He left rather quickly. Anathema: That was a really stupid thing to do you know. He'll probably have six or eight assasins after you before dawn. Davien: I AM an assasin remember. Trust me, nobody is going to come after me. Anathema: Your reputation's that good , I suppose. Davien: In that particular circle, yes. Anathema: Sure. Davien: Believe what you will. Anyway, I'm going to check the beds for lice. I hear they get as big as mice in places like this. [I]As Davien walks up the stairs, Anthema strikes up a small conversation about the errant assasin with Kain.[/I] Anathema: What do you make of him? Kain: Who, Davien? Well, I'd say that he hasn't had much experience with cities. I'd also say he's crazy. Anathema: No more than I managed to deduce then. [I]Draining her tankard, Anthema also goes to bed, while Kain stays up a bit later, staring into the fire.[/I][/font]

[font=gothic] Davien: He didn't take it to well, did he. Spyder: Would you have expected him to? Davien: I would have. Spyder: The idea that I would even pretend to sleep with Cathos offends me. Davien: It was a hypothetical. Spyder: Whatever. Now, were you going to do something about him, or will I? Davien: Oh alright. [I]With no apparent effort, Davien picks up Saethi, walks over to the door, and slings him onto the bed. After rummaging through wardrobes in the room for a while, he digs up a blanket, and throws it over the inert body. [/I] Davien: That do? Spyder: Wonderful. Davien: So, what happens now? Spyder: We wait for him to wake up. Davien: I hope to hell this place has some lockable rooms. Spyder: He'd probably have the keys you know. Davien: Alright. How much is it going to take for me to convince you to stop him from killing me? Spyder: We'll see. [I]With a sigh of disgust, Davien throws himself down on the recently vacated couch, resolutely looking away from Spyder.[/I][/font]

[font=gothic][I]After about hald an hour of wondering why the others had completely failed to find him, Zaltazar slows and waits. After a few seconds, he hears some faint sounds behind him. Retraversing the passages he went down earlier, he finds Alastuin intently looking at the ground, trying to find a sign.[/I] Zaltazar: You too? [I]Alastuin looks up, startled. Dusting herself off, she falls in step with Zaltazar, as he follows his earlier path again.[/I] Alastuin: It seems so. I have no idea where Rogan and Enron are, although I heard voices from a parallel passage a while back. Zaltazar: Are you sure it was parallel? Alastuin: Yes, it seemed to be only a foot or so away. Zaltazar: It probably was only that far away. Dwarven mazes are made so that passages that seem close require miles and hours to reach. I guess we'll just have to hope we all meet up at the middle. Alastuin: Any further though on what might be there? Zaltazar: I wasn't going to tell the other two, they might not take it well. But that is where the Hive will be. Alastuin: And you're leading me into the middle of it! Zaltazar: I was hoping you'd take it better than that... [I]They walk in silence for a while, listenign intently for both signs of Enron and Rogan, as well as possible nagas.[/I][/font]

[font=gothic]Kendo is more of a sport than a true martial art though.[/font]

[font=gothic]Alastuin: You are the most frustrating person I have ever met. Davien: You put it up as a bad thing. Alastuin: God! We were talking about you making yourself clear. Do so. Now. Davien: Oh, alright. I've had enough fun. To put it bluntly, I just said that some people bring out the worst in me. Alastuin: Which means that some people bring out emotion in you. Davien: Yes. Alastuin: And I am one of those people. Davien: Yes. Alastuin: What kind of emotions? Davien: That's for you to decide.[/font]

[font=gothic] Vukodlak: Alright, the main disadvantage we are facing is not the inability to tell mortals from angels, but our possible crossing of interests. Gorgon: What's that supposed to mean? Vukodlak: Let's face it, everyone had their own agendas when signing up for this mission. Angel: So? Vukodlak: We all have to get straight what is more important. This, or our own goals. I'd say this, but then, I've had more time to adjust to relative immortality than most of you... Anathema: And you still have no clue as to what is going on around you. Vukodlak: I have other concerns. [I]The trees start to thin, and human houses appear in the distance. Even from this distance, a cathedral spire, pointing up at the sky like an accusing finger, a testament to the twisted beliefs in this place, is visible. Anathema looks more than satisfied with herself.[/I] Anathema: I knew I'd gone the right way. Vukodlak: Irrelevant. We're here, it doesn't matter how we got here. Now, when we reach the priest, let me do the talking. [I]They start down the slope, the ground evening out slowly. When the reach the small town, they immediately are singled out as different, their garb if nothing else suggests something alien. The locals shy away, obviously unwilling to talk to them. Oblivious, Vukodlak strides past, walking straight up to the cathedral, and slamming the doors open. Inside, his ecclesiastical roe highlighted by the gothic lighting, is a single priest. He appears to have ben waiting.[/I] Priest: We knew you were coming. We were informed. Your heresy stops here, unbelievers. [I]With that, more than twoscore villagers spring up, torches and farm implements in their hands. As Vukodlak and the others form a rough circle, Vukodlak gives one last piece of advice.[/I] Vukodlak: They may not know everything about us yet! Give no hint that we are anything other than mortal! [I]The villagers close in.[/I][/font]