Damon Inferel

Gaaaaar! It's been a while since this old seadog seen ye folk. Driftin' ashore i be upon this keep, hoping for my safe passage. (So's I can pillage and loot, but you needn't be worried 'bout that right now.) This is something I wrote a short time ago, and thought it might be entertaining. Something that swells in the depths of the deepest parts of doomy death has risen and questions why you have brought them here. You simply reply that you don't know. Furious, that particular something smashes his fist into a nearby wall, getting a brief flinch out of you... something he notices. He grins that sinister grin and laughs that sinister laugh, and now you are puzzled. FLicking his wrist, you realize with moderate discomfort that he has claws the size of kitchen knives protruding from his fingertips and he is advancing towards you. Closer he comes, still smiling that sinister smile and chuckling that sinister chuckle. You shoot him with your tazer and spray mace in his oh-so-sinister eyes. He's crying. He curls up into a little ball and whimpers, rubbing at his eyes, trying to remove the burning sensation. You ponder to yourself, why would domething potentially from the bowels of hell be wounded by a tazer and some pepper spray? You shrug. After watching cartoons or something for about half-an-hour, you hear scuffling behind you. It's that sinister thing again, smiling that sinister smile and sneaking that sinister sneak. You can't see him, but you know what he's in for. He cries out in pain, a yelp of sinister pain, and a thud follows. He's hit the floor. Why? Because he stubbed his toe on that coffee table your friends keep telling you that you placed in a very inconvenient spot. He's rolling around, moaning a sinister moan. You ignore him up until there is something that sounds like shredded flesh. That bastard just ripped the back of your couch! You stand up and turn to face the moaning thing with the claws, who's still complaining about his toe, telling you you shouldn't put a coffee table there. You watch as he manages to get to his feet, that same scuffling noise like a zombie approaches you. He's got that sinister grimace because of his sinister injured toe and those sinister claws that ripped your couch. Are you going to stand there and take that? Yes, you are. Why? Because he has claws. Suddenly, you realize you are late for work. You grab your keys and run out the door. You make it to work. Your boring work with your boring pay. You work your boring day. You leave work, bored. That sinister thign followed you to work. He's out of breath. You look at him, and he looks at you. You must do combat now! You take your awkward fighting stance and realize you have no idea what you're doing. So, you yawn, walk past the sinister thing, get in your car, and go home. but first, you buy a doughnut, and then you go home. You are eating your doughnut and the doorbell rings. It's that sinister thing. You tell him you're not interested and that you've had a long day. you blather on about your boring job so much that you realize he left before you even got through half of your conversation. How rude! You hunt him down, and he's at the convenience store. He's buying a newspaper. Why? You don't know, and he probably doesn't either. He doesn't pay for his newspaper and walks out the door. The store manager yells something funny about paying for it, but the thing keeps walking. Cops are called. The cops show up and arrest the store owner for the crazy description. Can't have loonies running about. You go home. You sleep. You realize there is no end to this. You wake up... Lather, rinse, repeat.

Well howdy doo thar Miss Merry. I sees you returned to us in search of that ol' Weenie Award eh? Well, I dun wahn it, but I'll give ye a hat tippin in welcome. Edit: Oddly enough, when I returned to the Pen, I found the word Weenie attached to my title. I thought somebody was playing around with my file, so I took it off. (I kinda thought it was somebody's idea of a prank) Maybe I shouldn't have deleted it.

Now y'all know I can't make a comeback to the pen without a modicum of participation. Personally, I prefer that which is placed in the 1960's... I'd get to say gee-willikers and be completely out of style. And gosh darn. I think I'll base my character off of a 1930-50-ish pleasant American kid. You know, the kind of kid who actually has the white picket fence. But just for a twist, he'll be a WW2 vet. Yeah, that could be intriguing. Still formulating an idea for if the monk setting goes through though. Having a vow of silence and a shaved head (only pointing out stereotypes here, mind you) would be hard to accuse anyone. Edit... I hadn't read far enough. Well, must be a monk-ish. Actually, I could almost do what I was planning. Though it's the fourteenth century, perhaps my character could be a jovial scholarly type. An outsider to the brotherhood doing a study for the kingdom he hails from. That would put additional pressure on him being an outsider, and would give me an opportunity to develop defensive discussion traits. Bernard Farhaven the name is, and I am most pleased to greet you all. If I could have a moment of your time, I'm doing a study...

Whoever that guest person was... that wasn't very nice. I hope for the sake of (insert hypothetical morbid scene here) it was sarcasm. Anyhow, I thank all of the welcoming, and I shouldn't be going anywhere for a while, so don't you worry. As far as my former role-playing, I'll need an imaginary jump-start, but I'm more than willing to get back into the games. P.S. The Pen really has a much more ritzy feel to it. The menus and links... you've all outdone yorselves. Good work.

It's snowing... again. Well, I appreciate your respect sir. And, as I said, it truly was a good run. A little boring at times, but a good run. BCT is... well, really damn easy.

Yeah... ummm.... the reason I came back so soon... they kicked me out of BCT. Or boot camp, if you will. It turns out I'm bi-polar, and they can't have psychotic soldiers... So, my college money is going to have to be some hard earned stuff, but I'll make it through. It was a good experience while it lasted though. I certainly didn't want to leave.

miltary... been there, done that... threw away the t-shirt and bought an anarchy sticker. no really... I actually threw it away and bought an anarchy sticker. just making my point. For those of you who never heard from me again, i was busy disciplining myself in the military. i lost all my hair... *cries* i'll go curl up into a ball now. But, I'm OUT NOW!!!!!

And so the great demon lowered his head and began to pout. Such mortals (and the occasional immortal) he had befriended during his time upon this dwelling of a manor, named the Pen for the plethora of varietous talent held within, he must take his leave once more. The time of seperation is unknown, but what is known is that for a fair deal of time, Damon will seldom be seeing the familiar walls he had grown so accustomed to. But instead residing in the Abyss more horrible than his home Plane... Real Life. So, the final days (temprary ones) of Damon inferel are at hand. March 9th... (In effect, I'm moving again, and since it is this Job Corps thingy, they don't let me out too often, so I don't know when I will see this place again after the ninth. Could it be any more random of a day? Tuesday the ninth? In March? I would have preferred February 13th on a Friday... the feeling may have been a little more appropriate at that time.)

I see it as an exercise of the butterfly effect within psychology, developed so that the frame of mind one is in at the time happens to see as they want to see. Or... Rod Ferrell's six-foot demon, or a vampire, or something of a dark and archaic nature...

(OOC: Oh drat, i had hoped I might weed out the wolf. Hn... If it turns out to be kinjiru, I'll be all proud of myself, since I'm not very good at deductive reasoning. No vendetta against the guy, I just still think it's him. nice touch with the pistols Dean. If I was aiding in the modernization and destruction of honor, i miught as well die from it, eh? This was fun.)

Kyosuke looks on at Kinjiru-san's reaction to the accusation with a hint of disbelief, however his composure is calm. anger would only dig him a deeper grave. "Kinjiru-san, I have never been quick to jump to any sort of conclusion, nor does any of this senseless killing please me in the least. Do you not think that my accusing you has anything to do with what evidence has been presented to me? I do not wish any harm upon anyone at this table, nor anyone else in this country at the whim of either these beasts or by our own decisions. Your death would not please me in the least, and I do not doubt you would lack the self-gratification of a madman to kill yourself." "I am aware of pieces of the samurai code, one of which I know to be an honorable death, so to speak, in the event that one shames himself through loss or some other misdeed, it is honorable for one to kill himself. you do not seem to be so quick to kill yourself, so I do have doubts on my vote against you, however when one is faced with the prospect of their own death, they may do anything to prevent it. This is not a simple decision for me, and I have no opinion that lies bias on one or another. Being a politician, I am aware of the arts of deception and I have to take those sorts of factors into account. This is not a simple battle where one may shame themselves over petty losses, this is what seems to be a manipulated genocide of our people, causing us to turn against one another while those criminals who committ these deeds snicker at our foolishness and mock us by pretending to be what they are not." "I would think though, if the beasts of which we are seeking are intelligent enough, and strong-willed enough, then they would understand that revealing themselves would be a mistake, so one may grieve for the losses of others so as to put up a facade to trick us. We are not mind readers, so we are easily decieved if we do not know what to look for. I do regret my vote against you, and I would rather hold my tongue in that instance, but it is by the Emperor's will that i must stop this. I would have taken my own life by now had i not had the obligation to the emperor to both aid in the resolution of this conflict, and the obligation to complete my duties to him. I do deeply regret this, but everythign I have seen in the evidence does point to a strong possibility that you may be partially responsible for the deaths of those at this counsel and perhaps those others of whom we may have no idea as to whom they are." "I suppose it is unwise of me to ask for your forgiveness, as I would be condemning you, but I do give you my greatest apologies, and surely in the short time i have known you, you have shown me no disrespect. If I am wrong about you and I find you to be innocent, after this conflict is resolved and my present engagement is completed, I would happily give my life for you, either in death or for the aid of whatever your family may need. but for now, I cannot sway my decision, and I hope that this all comes to a conclusion shortly." (OOC: Still kinjiru-san)

*morning* The politician rises once more from a rather horror-fraught slumber, and is beginning to doubt himself. "Hn... I do find it odd I still sleep at night knowing my fate lies with the wolves or the council. But... business, and the council, are all in requirement of a clear mind, so i should be sure that I do sleep..." He dons his English suit, a regretful piece of fabric worn by the emperor's advisors, and looks blankly into the mirror. "Another one surely is dead... And another will most likely die today. Is it shameful to not face the world in times such as this, knowing that fates lie partially in my hands, and that otehrs are doomed to die until we may discern the ones who plague us? This is regrettable, but... there is work to be done today. My vote is decided." He brushes back his hair with his fingers and glances once more into the mirror before leaving his room. *afternoon* "Forgive me for not knowing the deaths in the day. It may seem suspicious that a politician is so absent-minded, but, I try not to think about it. I hope that is understandable. There, regretfully, are still other things i must focus on." Kyosuke lookes around briefly. "Where... is Terauchi? Was he...?" The table nods in almost unison. "I do not understand this... Why do these beasts kill the innocent? What is there vendetta against this council? Is it simply that we are hunting them? ... I... I do wish that they would die honorably and give themselves up... I hate slaying the innocents by a word. I feel the verdict is more harmful than the sword itself... This must end, very soon." Kyosuke looks briefly at Kinjiru-san and closes his eyes. "I apologize Kinjiru-san, but I still feel that my evidence points to you due to the locale of your father's death, and that you speak of bad terms you and your father were on. I regret to revisit my former votes, but I must vote for you Kinjiru-san... Forgive me."

I heard it on The Weakest Link from a Jay Leno impersonator... A child was born in china with three eyes. It's been proven. Lenscrafters called and said they could make a set of glasses for him... in an hour and a half.

(OOC: Whoopee! Actually, i'm rather sorry for my absence for a while. I had almost thought this RP was discontinued until MTUF popped up, so i didn't do anything. Effectively, my character is an intern for one of the diplomats and a studying linguist. Roughly, a translator, but he's not perfect... hee hee) "Here we are." Ghalen commented, seeing a fair amount of TaTa Ri'n going into the building. "They must have started already. What they started, I don't know, but it must not concern me yet." He paused in front of the building, sipping the equivalent of a cappucino he had purchased from a street vendor, and tossed the container aside onto the ground. If peaceful people who had decent technology didn't have people to do some of the public cleaning, they were better off designing weapons... He surveyed the scene as he walked into the front entrance, blinking only once before guns were trained on him. "This is... supposed to be a peaceful meeting, right? I don't care if you people kill each other, but you'll have a hell of a time dealing with the people I work for if you kill me. Now, leave me alone and let me see Ealizah... if you know who she is." The guns remained trained. "I know you can understand me, and I know you know who I am! I'm the Minister of Diplomacy for Zhelah, the planet that tries to keep you people in check! You kill me, and we'll bomb your stupid weapon factory! Point those barbaric things elsewhere." Ghalen was lying through his teeth, but being something of a politician, he knew how to bluff, and he hoped they didn't know there was no such regulatory planet... or bombs... or the fact he was only an intern. He was here to translate and nothing more, and in his situation, he hoped his bladder held out. The guns fell, but Ghalen didn't sigh in relief. It would give away his bluff. "Thank you. Now, if you know who Ealizah is, take me to her. This is a diplomatic place of business, and I'm sure we can fix this without having to kill anyone... Or, at least not too many people." He was still rough in translation, but he was pleased that his nervousness had caused him to recall all of what he knew. Grace under pressure... That had been beaten into his head often enough...

Good stuff... Sorry, lengthy reviews are reserved, but very, very, good stuff.

Translated! Seperated by sentences... Ah, Ness, you should be here. The feel of the wind through my coat, the embrace of the night as we hunt. Do you remember how it was? Do you remember the speed of the blood rushing through your veins, the feeling of power as you beat back those who stood in your path? I want you to know noone in this group thinks less of you for leaving. I have asked and they would not lie to me. Still, it would have been nice to have you by my side once more. You can never replace what i have lost, but you know that don't you. For the few glorious moments I was fighting, while my staff blurred and my knives flashed, i felt my wings spread again. The golden hawk was unbroken this night. If only it could always be so. Give my regards to the Pen. (Name) The Golden Hawk. (I'll PM the name, unless you know it already.)

Sakura blossoms Their blooming so infrequent A short-lived beauty *At the Chef's execution* "I fail to see how one bases their accusation on the silence of one who later demonstrated that his silence was relevant. I should think that if we all had our tongues removed, would we silently condemn each other? ... Forgive me, seeing innocents die simply because we choose them to is not going to sit well with me. I am already potentially killing undreds with my work, but even that is not as direct as this..." *Later in the evening* Four of us dead... Kyosuke writes in his small notebook, his mind telling him there are more pressing matters to attend to, such as business. I don't think I could condemn the geisha, even though it is possible that of the sly beasts one of them may be it. Particularly Hisoka. I do not doubt that if one of the beasts is indeed of an assassin nature, then it might be female, but... Should it be part of my duty to kill whom I only suspect. His pen scrawls across the page, continuing his notes. I do not think it wise of me, but I still suspect Kinjiru-san... The death of his father, the shaky ties between them, and the location... It does point to him, but... I do not know. we shall see what the morning will bring to us. Kyosuke closes his book and places it under his futon. "business now." he tells himself.

Kyosuke Kagashima (kah-ga-shih-muh) stares blankly at the ceiling above him, recounting the events of the day. "Hn... even in innocence, we still executed him. There is not another way?" He rises to his feet, and begins stretching. Even though he is a politician for the Japanese government, he has no need ot become as those in America... "Pigs..." he mutters out loud. He has not yet heard of Lord Washima's untimely and treacherous demise. But, after his stretches, the news is brought to him. He dismisses the messanger. "Hn... Lord Washima? I see, so he was innocent too. I was near thinking him next, due to a possible abuse of power. Those who fear him cannot vote against him." He shook his head violently. "What am I saying? He was one of the few respectable members of power left." He looked up at the sun as it rose beyond the sakura orchard. "Forgive me for thinking like that. I suppose it was hasty of me..." He steels himself once again, for an other day. "Another to be condemned to death today. While the deaths are honorable, I still cannot see the fact that we are sentencing them so... abrubtly. There is no honor in executing an innocent." He scratches his head. "honor takes on such a new meaning these days..." Edit: upon arriving at the next meeting, Kinjiru-san is making an inquiry. "Ah, I a happy to see somebody taking on a more reasonable approach to this. blindly killing each other to simply 'weed out' our foe is wrong. Thank you Kinjiru-san, and please forgive me for accusing you. I did not have the time to think it through." "If you would like to know where I was last night, I was studying. Regretfully, i am assisting the Americans in shipment of new weapons. I would not do it under my own will, but it is my duty to the Emperor... In any case, I was studying the trade routes and tabulating shipment expenses last night before i retired. As I recieved the news this morning, I do not know when Lord Washima was slain, so i cannot say where i was at a certain time. I believe it was very early morning when i retired to bed."

Kyosuke flickers his eyes down in sorrow for the doomed tourist. "He had not even a chance to speak his part, and yet we have condemned him? How honorable is that? I would think that we should all have at least given each other to speak their peace in this instance... what is done is done however. I am sorry Ishikawa-san." (OOC: Hn... It's kind of odd to have democracy in a feudal era... But, whatever. I love this game!) Edit: I misspelled Vlad's name...

Kyosuke flickered violet eyes about the room, debating on the situation presented to him. I have my doubts as to the tourist, I should say. It is all very possible that those who are such vile creatures are expecting us to effectively murder one of us who has such an obvious possibility to be played in the part. Simply because he has toured about has little to do with the fact he may be a wolf. A tourist is perhaps the equivalent of a decoy, and the wolves are no doubts expecting us to hang him first. I cannot vote to send somebody who still has possibility of innocence based on his status... To kill an innocent is very dishonorable. While it does pain me so to potentially condemn one of us to death, as I have no way of knowing if I will dishonor myself in sacrificing an innocent life, I must cast a vote for somebody. I believe that it is all possible that sombody with a lower or higher than average status in our country can either use their insignificance or their power to play their part and get away with these crimes. You say that the death was of a rice worker representative...? Given the local murder and the fact we have a rice farmer amidst our table, I must cast my vote against Kinjiru-san, the son. How else may he have escaped with his life if such a thing was as brutish as it has been told? (OOC: Vote for Kinjiru-san {MeThinksUFoolish})

Hn... Soory, but such a sales pitch should not apply to me. I smite your product with all of my smitey smitingness! See, I'm destroying a perfectly good sentence and dissing your product... I have no NBD, mwahahaha!

I know it's short comment, but well done...

Hn... A rather logical insight to this situation. While i no longer have the need to concern myself with such policies, i do remember these situations. Bravo!

I only read the first part of this, since i don't have time to read the second and comment on it too, but I must say that i enjoyed this. An almost relatively unique plot to me, as it is not necessarily a tale of revenge, but the hint of that is there. It's more like "Hey! give that back or you'll regret it!" type of story... I didn't see anything wrong with it except for some html that was out of place, so good job ashke!

OOC: Did the RP die? Awww... and it was doing so well. I suppose though, wihtout the person who holds the plot, it might not have gotten much farther. Well, if you come back Silver, you still have one player waiting to find 'your father's killer'