Profile for Sir David
| Field | Value |
|---|---|
| Displayed name | Sir David |
| Member number | 919 |
| Title | Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! |
| Postcount | 3351 |
| Homepage | |
| Registered | Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
Recent posts
Pages
| Author | Recent posts |
|---|---|
| Observation of MLK, Jr. in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 19 2006 19:51
Profile
I'm quite a large fan of MLK; to me, he seems to have taken what worked well for India and made it work even better for America. I know several people, however, who consider Malcolm X a better leader and a better man (seriously). In your opinion, how do they compare? -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Observation of MLK, Jr. in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Monday, January 16 2006 08:03
Profile
This may seem a bit too obvious, but what do you think of Martin Luther King, Jr.? He is arguably the most influential man outside of (or even including) the government in the African American civil rights movement, but many people, far more than I would have expected before this topic was posted last year, disagree with him on many personal points. Some say that while they respect his words and actions, they cannot respect him, personally, because he was, after all, a philanderer. Others do not respect his words and actions because they were too moderate, too unlike those of Malcolm X. Others believe they were too extreme, but if any of you are on these boards, you may want to reconsider that - either the viewpoint, or being on these boards. So. Qu'est-ce que vous pensez? -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Displayed name duplicates... in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 12 2006 16:16
Profile
That proves itself true almost every time someone says it, but what's funny is most people think they're quoting the original percentage. Aran, um... you're wrong about... stuff... um... involving all the topics I've started... and um... I bet you can't correct me... I mean prove me wrong... -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Soon I Shall Be Rich in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 12 2006 16:08
Profile
This is the only kind of spam I ever read. It's pretty funny sometimes. Aran, enough. Honestly. There's a point at which pompous, affected harassment of newbies ceases to amuse and begins to irritate. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Displayed name duplicates... in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Wednesday, January 11 2006 20:37
Profile
I have the same problem with Sir David, actually, which is why I am the last remnant of the gender-bending spree that came and went about a year ago. I don't mind it so much, though. I'm not particularly hostile toward newbies, but it's fun to confuse them sometimes. Aran, would you mind posting my list of topics? I'm kind of curious now... -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| 2016 in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Tuesday, January 10 2006 05:32
Profile
Sucks to be Canada... -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| The Mountain of Shadows RP in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Monday, January 9 2006 22:06
Profile
OOC: *Sigh*... the first one was better, I'm sure, but whatever. I'll try to preserve the gist, anyway. IC: So that's why he's letting us get so close. Lisha glanced sideways at Sequoia, walking between her and Edith. He was obviously exhausted, but still managed as much drive as before. It was almost as if he was being pushed forward by some inner force, one that had certainly not been there before. He wants us. The more Lisha thought about it, the more it made sense. They were playing right into Orloki's cursed claws. The demon had already demonstrated his ability to shift the stones, to modify entire tunnels without the use of physical force. If he wanted to kill them, he could do so any time he pleased. Instead, though, he was moving them closer to him. He's toying with us. But it was more than that. He'd come far too close to actually killing them to be simply playing out of boredom; he'd already caused the destruction of one of his toys. No; this was more than an idle pasttime. He's testing us. First the undead, then the wolves, then the ice, and now the mountain itself. Had they been a different group, they'd have been dead already. But this group, somehow, had survived. And now Orloki was keeping it that way. He doesn't want toys. He wants tools. The revelation struck Lisha suddenly. She carefully maintained her determined expression, but her mind was racing. He wants to use us. First he had taken Caecus and Filbert. Caecus had fallen, but Filbert had survived with Orloki's power. He had been taken completely, it seemed; there was none of the bumbling fool left in that hardened swordsman. Cain, too, had fallen to the influence; he had been kept alive, even, when his destruction seemed assured. Sequoia, too, had been tainted by some demonic power, and now even Edith, it seemed, had fallen. Looking surreptitiously past the druid, Lisha inspected Edith's face. Her pupils were gleaming coal, her pace somewhat erratic. Why, then, are Cain and Sequoia still fighting Orloki? She was convinced that they were. Demons never managed much opaqueness, and Lisha could tell by now that Cain believed he was implementing the downfall of Orloki. Sequoia, regardless of allegiance, had destroyed Orlooki's minions to the extent of nature's wrath. Why haven't they turned, like Filbert? Lisha stopped. The other humans noticed immediately and halted with her, and Cain and Melora, who had been far ahead, detected a change and stopped as well. "What's the matter?" Cain began walking back toward them suspiciously. "I- don't- what can we do against Orloki?" Cain's red eyes scanned her face, searching for something he could not seem to find. "What would you do alone?" "Well, I've got- but that's not what I mean- I must speak with Sequoia. Alone." She glanced at the druid. His face was expressionless. Cain stared incredulously. "Do it while walking. Every moment we waste gives Orloki another to prepare." Orloki is prepared. It is we who need the time. "Yes, of course. Carry on." Lisha stepped forward, drawing Sequoia with her, away from Edith. The rest of the group resumed their pace. Melora, she noticed, remained behind Cain and drifted slowly back toward herself and Sequoia. Lisha began speaking in a voice a bat would have difficulty hearing. "Brother, what happened? What was that back-" "She can hear us." Lisha raised an eyebrow. "Who?" "Edith. She can read our minds." This wasn't like him at all. "She can only read minds because most people don't bother to conceal their thoughts. I have had incomparable training against such mental magic. She cannot hear me." Sequoia shrugged. "Very well." "You are changed. But you are not possessed as Filbert is." Sequoia shook his head. "No." "How is that?" His hand reached into his cloak and drew out the necklace. "This talisman protects me against mental magic. He was in me temporarily, but I fought him. I broke free, and fought his demons with the power of the mountain." "The power of the mountain." He turned his head to her. "You do not trust me?" Lisha looked up at him. "He has taken Filbert completely. Edith has been corrupted too. You saw it, did you not?" Sequoia nodded. "With Tuulentekija, I believe, it is just a matter of time. That wound was not properly healed, and you know of the effects of demonic weaponry. We are in the middle of our enemy's lair, being led to him by a demon and a fallen elf. What have I left to trust?" "Melora will not lead us-" The elf's head turned slightly. Lisha laid a hand on Sequoia's arm, and he fell silent. "She can hear you. And no," she whispered, "she will not lead us wrong. Whatever drives her, it is not Orloki." Unsatisfied but believing the conversation over, Sequoia began drifting back toward Edith. Lisha watched as Melora sped up slightly to come even with Cain. I am alone with a group of fallen mortals, and my most trusted companion is a knowledge-obsessed drow. In any other situation, she's have laughed at this irony. Not in this. Orloki has beaten us before we have even met him in battle. He did not need to cause their deaths, or even force them to turn on one another. He had already done his damage. He'd taken the weakest for his own to provide an enemy, a catalyst for the changes in all the others; an assassin in raging demon form, a potion-maker driven mad and vulnerable by despair, a warrior soon to be consumed by revenge, and... Sequoia... The power of the mountain was no more relevent than the power in the broken staff. The green flame had not come from the mountain; it had come from the druid himself, the deepest, most supressed parts of his natural power, and, for at least a few brief instances, it had taken over. The peaceful druid was consumed by rage, and had become an unwitting tool of nature's wrath. Wrath is chaos. Demons thrive on chaos. Orloki didn't need to kill them, and he didn't need to exert himself as he had over Filbert. He had them where, and, more importantly, how he wanted them. They were putting themselves where he wanted them. A bit more of this manipulation, and they were his. A mirthless smile twisted Lisha's lips. Demon, you've miscalculated. A bit of counter-manipulation, and they all, including Cain and - and Sequoia, were hers. She hadn't had such a good battle of the wills in years. Making sure the others weren't too far behind, she sped up in Melora's direction. At least she could trust the fallen to fall no further. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| The Mountain of Shadows RP in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, January 8 2006 21:58
Profile
Um. I just spent about two hours typing an IC, and when I finished, I clicked Add Reply as always, and after everything finished, my browser brought me to a blank page with the board's website in the HTML bar. I hit return, hoping that it would bring me back to the board, and it did, but a post in the topic 2016 was listed as the newest in General. I clicked on General and this topic was abovve the rest, and there was one more post in the post count than there had been when I started typing, but it seems the post is not here. Am I missing something? What happened? Is there any way to get that post back? EDIT: And now, for the record, it says this post is 483, which is what it said the last one was (or should have been), which is also one more than Nazgul's was. All traces of that IC have been erased. Gah. [ Sunday, January 08, 2006 22:02: Message edited by: Lady Davida ] -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| 2016 in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, January 8 2006 20:08
Profile
The US will most likely be embroiled in all kinds of undeclared wars, including non-violent ones (per se) with our allies. The only real help we'll be receiving, I suspect, will be from Israel, and that'll be in self-defense. Technology will be much more intelligent to compensate for mankind being much less so. Not that education will worsen, exactly; by "stupid" I mean unwillingly (and unable, in some cases,) to ackowledge the truth. Asia (especially CHina) will grow more an more powerful but won't use that power for the good of the world, or, for the most part, of the people; they'll use it, basically, to gain more. I wish I could say I see a kind of cultural revival down the road, but I really don't; for all our *****ing and whining, modern art will continue to take over and music will become less and less musical. The western world will become increasingly less united, more so below the surface than above. On the plus side, I see more improvements of the lives of the obscenely poor, mainly in Africa and Asia. Space technology will improve, thanks to private funding, and while I don't think we'll be on Mars, we should be well on our way to getting there. I don't know about a cure for cancer, but I think the medical world will have made great strides forward by then. Democracy will have more of a foothold in the Middle East (as will its opponents, but when is that not the case?). Abortion will diminish while preventative measures become more widespread throughout the world (but not, I suspect, in the western part of it). The internet will be ubiquitous, and will facilitate personal freedom like nothing ever before in existance. Of course, it's equally likely that Google will take over the world and none of this will be relevant. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Undead Topics Need Loving Too (aka "Give Me Your First-Born") in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, January 8 2006 19:23
Profile
Hahaha! How self-pitying! -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Age in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Friday, January 6 2006 20:34
Profile
That, and he's European. That does make sense, somehow. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| The Mountain of Shadows RP in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 5 2006 21:11
Profile
"Cain." The demon looked up at Lisha. "Yes?" "He's getting away." Cain glanced at Filbert and shrugged. "He'll be back. He's still mortal." Walking back to the rest of the group, Lisha watched Filbert over her shoulder. "He must be in excruciating pain," she said to Melora as she drew near. "Cain is right, he's only mortal." "He is still posessed." "Completely." Melora glanced at Lisha's pouch. "Xyda flower?" "Extremely rare, I know. I hate to use it, but..." "Where did you find it?" Lisha's expression grew hard, her eyes murderous. "What do you take me for, a scholar?" Melora smiled grimly. "You have nothing to fear from me." "No. No, of course not." "Good." "The Eastern Lands, though..." Melora grabbed her arm tightly, suddenly. Lisha twisted out of her grasp. "Off me, elf. What gives you the right-" "I have seen things you'll never-" "Ladies!" They fell silent. Neither moved, but both attended to Tuulentekija. "We are in the midst of Orloki's stronghold. Now is not the time to argue amongst ourselves. Let us make up our minds about Cain, and act together. And soon. I think we should go with him. What happens after, we will deal with then." "Go," Lisha hissed. "Go with the tainted one. Orloki will be glad to see you, I'm sure." She threw Melora's arm off hers and began pacing. Her voice was low, but intense. "A demon asks you to accompany him into the presence of another, and you honestly consider it? You're walking into a trap, all of you. How you lasted this long, I don't know. Never trust a demon." Edith looked up from where she was kneeling next to Sequoia. "He's conscious." Lisha paused. Never trust a demon, for the mind of the possessed is unpredictable. She looked at Sequoia. Violent. A pile of dust lay near them, slowly spreading over the stone. No. The elf thought he was possessed. But why had he attacked the uruk-hai, and not Orloki's enemies? Why not herself? He is strong. The druid groaned and sat up slowly. He put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. The other hand still clutched the necklace, but without the desperation of before. He had already fought the demon, it seemed. And won. Edith stood. "Lisha." "Yes?" It was still hard to accustom herself to, but she had been spoken to this way before. "We must hurry." "He let Filbert go." "Ignore him," Tuulentekija said with obvious discomfort. "How will we defeat Orloki without Cain?" I wasn't sent here for this. "What say you, elf?" "We'll use him." Lisha looked around at the faces before her. Sequoia coughed. She fixed her gaze on him. "Brother?" Sequoia looked up. "Do not trust him. He, too, is tainted. What sets him apart from Filbert?" Melora looked over her shoulder at the demon. "He is useful." Lisha nodded. "Alright. Melora, Tuulentekija, tell him we will go with him. Edith, can you use my aid?" "Yes." "Then let Cain lead the way. Watch him, elf. Don't allow us to be lead astray. And if you find that simple-minded fool, do not let him run off again. Orloki will see what we make of his servants." -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Swords or Spears? in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 5 2006 20:20
Profile
In Avernum, I tend to have three characters with swords and one (a slith) with a spear. In Nethergate, it's much more balanced. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| 2 Questions in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 5 2006 18:33
Profile
No, it doesn't. Check again. It says Jun 6 2004. I don't think "yo" can really be attributed to any one ethnic group. I know plenty of different people who say it. Social group, maybe, but not ethnic. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Wikipedia: Skribbane in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, January 5 2006 18:26
Profile
Irony Central is as good as Spiderweb itself. I wonder if he'll write a second Story About the Baby? -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| The Mountain of Shadows RP in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Wednesday, January 4 2006 19:07
Profile
"Hah! Fools! You consider this a victory? I don't need Orloki's help! You will die by my hands!" Filbert took a step toward Tuulentekija, keeping his eyes on the others but his focus on the fighter. He raised his sword and brought it crashing down onto the warrior's; another dagger, from Melora's direction, flew past his head. Tuulentekija stumbled back, still half stunned from the demonic blow. Weakly raising his sword, he glared with defiance and more than a bit of apprehension at his advancing foe. Flap. Flap. It wasn't the sound of uruk-hai wings that drew their attention, it was the direction from which it came. All heads turned enough to see the demon propel itself through the cave entrance and directly into the mountain. Its clawed feet scraped on the stone, and it stumbled toward them as if drawn forward by an invisible hand. It was clearly wounded, but the group took no comfort in that fact. This uruk-hai wouldn't be fleeing. A smug smile on his face, Filbert raised his sword again. "This one's mine!" He swung at Tuulentekija, who turned back in time to get out of the way. Laughing mindlessly, Filbert stepped forward again. "Edith!" Melora, who had drawn two more daggers and was trying to find an angle that didn't put her comrade at risk, had noticed the new demon's focus. Sequoia had too, but was torn between the two enemies. Glancing at his eyes, a chill didn't run down Melora's spine - she was of the drow, after all - but had she been human, it would've shaken her to the core. She threw one last dagger at Filbert; it struck, but didn't pierce him. As Tuulentekija prepared himself for the next attack, Melora drew another precious mithril-edged dagger and sprinted toward the new uruk-hai. Edith was crouched on the floor, several vials held between her fingers, preparing something desperately. A fiery flash temporarily blinded all but the uruk-hai as his would-be companion reentered the hall. It ran at the group as if chased by hell itself, which, Tuulentekija realized, it very well might be. Filbert didn't seem to control the newcomer. Orloki could control the mountain, and even, it seemed, his enemies within it. Why not, then, his slaves? Sequoia's mind latched on to the old uruk-hai, the enemy of... it didn't matter, it was the enemy, and it called for utter destruction. His glowing staves before him, the druid began chanting in an impossibly low voice, almost a rumble, as if the mountain were speaking through him. The cave shook as if trying to throw an unwelcome rider from its back; several stalagmites dislodged themselves and came crashing down upon the uruk-hai. The beast roared in pain and rage and threw itself forward, hurtling like an avalanche at Sequoia. As Melora turned from a perfect throw to watch, a beam of white light sprouting from the wounded uruk-hai's breast, a new light arose. The green glow emanating from Brother Sequoia's broken staff, almost from the druid himself, became a harsh glare and continued growing in intensity until Melora's mithril and even the fire of the uruk-hai were obscured. As the uruk-hai crouched to leap at him, a torrent of light broke from his hands as a tortured yell rose from his throat, joined by the shouts of fear from the group. The uruk-hai disappeared for half a second, then crumpled to the floor, raising a cloud of dust and steam around it. A few loose rocks rained down on its broad, lifeless back. With all eyes on him, Sequoia's legs folded and he collapsed, gasping, but still, it seemed, very much alive. Weakling, haltingly, his hand moved toward his chest. His fingers found the necklace and grasped it tightly, almost desperately, as if holding on for his life. The cave went silent for a moment. Edith muffled a gasp. Tuulentekija turned his head, slowly, almost afraid of what he might see before him. Filbert stood still, looking between the fallen demon and the druid on the stone floor. As if feeling Tuulentekija's gaze, he glanced over at him, then at Melora. A manic smile remained firmly on his face. "What will you do now?" They said nothing. Tuulentekija stared into his face. Melora stared past him. "You're doomed! You don't have as many mithril daggers as Orloki has uruk-hai," he exclaimed, staring back at Melora, who calmly met his gaze. "Edith, you are useless without the herbs I destroyed." He looked down a bit, back at the masked warrior. "And you..." Before anyone could move, Filbert had swung his sword at his victim. The blade sliced through his armor, tearing part of the shoulder protection askew, and opened a gaping wound in his left shoulder. Tuulentekija gasped and bit his lip in pain, trying desperately not to cry out. Slowly, shakily, he began to raise his sword. Filbert looked at Melora, still smiling, and raised an eyebrow. She didn't move. He laughed. "You're learning." He casually hefted his sword and stepped toward Tuulentekija, who stepped back, struggling to hold his sword steady. Filbert raised his sword above his head. And gasped. Melora's face remained unchanged as Filbert fell forward, Lisha's knife planted firmly in his back. His sword fell to the ground with a clatter, and was joined by Tuulentekija's. "Where did you c-" "From the shadows." Lisha's face, too, remained expressionless as she gave Tuulentekija one last hard look, then turned and walked stiffly toward the body of Sequoia. Abandoning her pretext of calm, Melora ran to the form. She began to kneel, then looked at Lisha and straightened. She stood waiting, somehow awkwardly. Tuulentekija and Edith exchanged glances, then followed. Lisha reached them and knelt quickly, trying to conceal her trembling as she felt for a pulse. She shook his wrist, frustrated, then silently reprimanded herself and held still. "I... what..." "Sequoia." Lisha sprung up. "Sequoia." "Is he-" "Shh!" Lisha rolled him onto his back delicately, and reached for his other wrist. On contact, he reflexively clenched his fist. "I am free." Lisha looked immediately at Melora. "Free of what?" Melora shook her head, still watching Sequoia. "He's not. Look." Sequoia sat up. "What happened? Where's..." "Look," Melora interrupted. "His eyes." Lisha looked. "Only a bit..." Sequoia looked up at Lisha. "Is he dead?" "No." "What? Oh, no," Tuulentekija said. "No, he means Filbert, not Orloki. Yes, he is dead." "No." Melora gave her a hard look. "What do you mean?" Lisha stood and looked back. "I know where to strike so that a man will surely die. I avoided those spots." Drawing back her cloak, she revealed an open pouch. "This enters the bloodstream fastest near the heart. Normally it takes a while to paralyze the target, but we don't have a while." "Xyda flower." "Yes." Ignoring Melora's incredulity, Lisha turned back to the druid and offered him a hand. He took it, and began to rise, slowly and stiffly. He bit his lip in pain. "Brother, the poison will last another fifteen minutes, and make any sort of motion very painful, if possible, for some time after that. He is yours." [ Wednesday, January 04, 2006 23:08: Message edited by: Lady Davida ] -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Postaroni, Pizzabella! in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Monday, January 2 2006 15:59
Profile
Wow. That's excellent, actually. Synergy for honorary admin! -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Best musician or composer in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Monday, January 2 2006 14:52
Profile
quote:Have you heard Ben Folds' Late? It's a great song inspired, apparently, by a great musician. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Postaroni, Pizzabella! in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Monday, January 2 2006 13:51
Profile
It's hard to tell, really... -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Postaroni, Pizzabella! in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, January 1 2006 19:01
Profile
Yup. quote:I think that can be filed under "unpleasantness", although I suppose that depends on where these bullets choose to lodge themselves... -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| 1945 in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, January 1 2006 18:56
Profile
Hmmm... you know, I wonder if it has anything to do with, like, Nazi Germany or something... quote:American, yes. Soldier... not exactly. Sailor, sort of. One of the greatest leaders this country has ever had, definitely. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Question for Administrators and Moderators in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, January 1 2006 18:46
Profile
quote:"More and more serious," actually. General would die if it weren't for going off-topic within 5-10 posts. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Essay... in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Friday, December 30 2005 10:25
Profile
Wow... sucks to be you, then, if you can't think of a "current intellectual, social, or political issue" more important than "booze, women (sic, sorry), and violent television". Seriously, that kind of essay can't be driven by someone other than yourself. I'd have to say Synergy's suggestion is the best you're going to get, with that set of interests - you could also mention that sex is less permissible than murder - but really, maybe it's time to branch out a bit... -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| The Mountain of Shadows RP in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, December 29 2005 23:44
Profile
A library. Walking at the fastest pace she could muster, which was a jog for most of the others, Lisha thought furiously. A library? The Grand Lord must have known. But if he had trusted her with this task, why hadn't he given her that information? She would've learned the truth anyway, and that misunderstanding may have cost them her success, if not her life. No. He couldn't have known. Why not? And if the Grand Lord of Tass-Shanti hadn't known a Tass-Shanti secret, how did Melora? Those damned scholars. They were in a world of their own, she knew, and it wasn't safe. The Grand Lord required utter devotion to himself, and rightfully so; that's how the kingdom ran, and it's how it had survived so much and prospered beyond the imaginations of its siblings. But the scholars answered to a higher authority: Knowledge. And knowledge, everyone knew, was power. For the scholars to give that power to anyone but the Grand Lord... This mission would potentially reap far more than was sewn. If I get out alive. So it wasn't a mountain of gold she was seeking, it was a pile of books. Not that she underestimated books, not by any means - they fueled some of the most powerful forces in the world, after all - but it meant a complete change in tactics, now that she was so thoroughly embroiled in the imminent battle. But what if there was gold, too? Why had she met the elf, who was also seeking the treasure and who had come from the same place as she? What if he does know? Another flaming page fluttered into the passage and flew at her face. Distracted, she responded instinctively; cloak pulled tightly around her, she threw herrself forward and rolled. Feeling slightly sheepish at the overreaction, she sprang to her feet and threw her hood back to see the entire party behind her. Then, several things happened at once. Melora, stopping the page with her blade, read a few symbols and yelled, a high, unearthly screech. The flame flickered and died, leaving a brittle scrap of parchment resting in her hands. As the firelight stopped its hideous dancing on the stones and the assembled faces, a new glow took its place. It was a steady orange glow, a sickening light broken only by the occasional flap of tought, leathery wings. Sequoia's deep bass filled the hollow silence left by Melora's shout, and was joined by the Tuulentekija's startled gasp as they noticed something behind Lisha's back. Another voice, Edith's voice, added itself to the mix but set itself apart somehow, choosing to activate her mind more than her physical senses. She was preparing some sort of spell, Lisha thought, some kind of precautionary defense that didn't seem to require distinct words. All four of her companions were staring with horror, fascination, and a deep hatred at something behind her. Lisha turned. "TAKE THEM!" The orange glow flared into an angry red with an unnatural tinge of white. Two dark shapes were silhouetted against the violent glare, and they were steadily growing. A third appeared from behind a corner, pushing before it something in the shape of a man. No. Not pushing. Being led by. Breaking his fascinated gaze, Sequoia collected his spirit and sent a beam of pure white light into the man's face. Before the druid ceased his illumination, the entire group had recognized the grimmacing face. Tuulentekija gasped. "Filbert!" Lisha's eyebrow rose slowly. "What's that fool doing here?" "I am the master of these forces!" Filbert shouted. "They do my bidding, and my bidding alone! Take them! Hurry!" The two uruk-hai in front began running toward the group. With the flapping of their leathery wings, they rose from the stone and began half running, half flying forward, the fiery glow growing more intense as they drew near. Filbert, content to watch, halted. His escort remained by his side. Lisha drew back slowly. "That bastard." She glanced over her shoulder, all pretenses in the face of relative strangers now completely gone. "Kill them. Destroy them. But keep them occupied for a bit. The meddling fool is mine. If I- find Orloki. Do not let this continue." With one last quick glance at Sequoia, she threw the cloak tightly around herself and drifted back into the shadows, the few that remained. Preparing to slide past the oncoming demons, she drew a knife. Filbert was a man. Blood pumped through his veins, blood that could carry her poison and shut his body down. But if the uruk-hai caught her alone... She shoved the thought from her mind and darted into another crack, another step closer to a death, one way or another. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
| Harry Potter 4 in General | |
|
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Thursday, December 29 2005 20:15
Profile
Does Dikiyoba have a good reason for speaking in the third person? Sir David certainly hopes so. Also, coming between a Spiderwebber and something he or she is haughtily criticizing is comparable to standing between a mother bear and her cub, in a strange, antonymic sort of way. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |