Damon Inferel

One hell of a time jum there, wouldn't you say so. But, Tidus jumped ahead a thousand years, so ten isn't all that many. in any case, I thought this one was rather sentimental, fraught with memory and doubt. And short... for me, short is good because it means I can read it easier, but long is good too. It just takes me longer (aside from obvious time extensions) to finish long stories. Right. having read the first one, i should say that you picked up rather nicely onto this one, elaborating on the after-effects of the crossbow bolt and detailing fonder memories of Lissandrien. That, and i don't know if the living and dying quote was your own, but it was a nice inclusion nonetheless. A good read, good story, good writer. Keep up the work ashke, ai shiteru.

Well, I apologize for my recent absences, but I should hope my availability will be up to par. Nonetheless, allow the lynching to begin once again! I have little trouble with feaudal Japan, and perhaps as oposed to being terribly sorrowful, the deaths may be honorable. It is for the good of the village, hai? In any case, count me in once again as well. Since I have recently been playing my favorite fighting game (Rival Schools), I suppose I might shift my name from Damon to... Kyosuke. (Keeoskay) He's so cool in his almost Elvis outfit. (It's actually a suit, but if you choose the white costume he looks like Elvis with orange hair... and glasses.) On wit da lynching and shotting and spearing and decapitating and...

That was pretty funny, but true. Though I don't think the story was meant to be funny. It always seems that the main character dies for some reason, though in this one, I cna guess her purpose in life was to die, but what the hell killed her? The Shadowed One? Was there some sort of alternative cosmic battlegoing on that had to take her as a sacrifice for peace or something? This was a very easy and good read, but it has this hole in it that mkaes you wonder exactly why she's dying. It's like "Feed Me Seymour." (Little Shop of Horrors, starring Rick Moranis) But, it was still a very good story, and seemingly shorter in terms of my reading speed than the... Unredeemed One, I think it was. Well, ai shiteru, and Ja Ne. I'll read the newer ones a little later. I have to do something...

You caught a big smirk out of me... I don't generally get involved emotionally with reading, so no laughs, but it was very cute. I want a big frickin sword too, but like Ithil said, it's hella expensive. But, they can get them, and so will I... I even have a design... But anyway. Just a note, you might want to watch some of the language though... try not to get too liberal, since, under technicality, the word shit shouldn't have neen in there in the first place... maybe not even ass... (Catching the irony in there?) But at least it was used tactfully and not offensively, unless you account for a blunt stare... This was actually very good, considering it's one of the first comedies I've known you to conjure up, if not the first one... Very good ashke, and whether you write another one or not, I look forward to more stuff.

Sorry about all that... It took me forever to find some time... That, and I'm kind of lazy, but this story did not disappoint me, and in fact it was rather enrapturing... (Though what of yours hasn't been?) In any case, it sort of gave me a slightly mixed Aragorn/Arwen type thing somewhere in the middle of the story, but Elanor wasn't the god-like-undying-superhuman-living-forever-type-guy... errr... girl. The use of bells was rather unique, since I hadn't really remembered about the whole death toll. You had a minor inconsistency in the story about when Shade caught Elanor. You neglected to mention that the protection spell ended, but I don't think it's that big of a deal. Just being an honest critic. I don't kow how Elanor lived a little while after the bell tolled and the dance was completed either, but it was an... interesting conversation between them. While reading i, I got a small sense of Yusuke's fortune and thought it would have been funny. There was some asphalt in her ear or something and she didn't hear the bell, but hey, angst doesn't leave too much room for stuff like that. Overall, a very good and lengthy (i'm slow) story. One hell of a grudge that lady had, but if somebody murdered your family, I don't doubt you'd hold that for a while too.

OOC: No prblem really with being dead. I haven't been on the computer for almost a week, so I couldn't defend myself, but in my absence I suppose it left me open for improvisation. Though I should note my character wouldn't have drawn a weapon, but let's just say he was obscenely drunk.

Damon steps out of the bar, almost half-drunken. "I... I don't." He collapses to the dirt beneath him. He had not attended the burying of Vahktang, but was rather attempting to get stone drunk after seeing the blood-ridden corpse. It didn't work too well after he had been cut off after five or so shots. "I voted against him, and he... he's dead now. I condemned him even before knowing if he would live to see another day. I... have shamed myself. I should cast no more wonton votes because of shallow evidence. He had... children. He had family. He... died, and my last words to him were a vote to string him up?! I might as well have pulled a trigger on him..." He staggered to his feet, trying to compose himself after realizing he had nearly been shouting. "But... no. No more, this wolf has to go. This... thing, this evil thing that has killed... five of us. Whether one of those five was a wolf or not, we had still lived beside him. I say that tonight... we all stay at the inn in our own seperate rooms. That way, we'll all be next to each other... and whoever leaves their room during the night... we can hear them. As for Vahktang's children, and all the others... tonight... Tonight, we'll have to ask the eldest of them to try to keep a watch over them." he coughed. "If one of us is the wolf and not the children... Then they should be safe. There's no reason not to do it unless you've got something to hide." "I'm... I'm not voting for anyone until this night is done. What do you all say to this? Will it work for you?"

"Deg... Well, I now shun all of my skepticism, and I truly believe that we must weed out this foe." Damon shoots down another swig of whiskey in brief mourning for the most recently hung. "Werewolf or not, he was still one of our neighbors." "In any case, we have to assume that whoever the wolf is, they are going to act differently through this encounter. Where others panic, he... or she... may remain calm. We also know now that this wolf does have a spot to transform itself, and perhaps others, so it does not need the solitude of his or her house. Now... I suppose I should make my own deduction before I retire, in the event I do not make it through the night." "I must apologize, but one has been so adamant as to destroy other's opinions as of late, and seems to be attempting to defend themselves against others. As it turns out that I must regretfully pit a vote against those of whom I have lived with for so long, I cast my vote for Sir Vahktang. I do it with regret however, but under my own deduction, his adamant defences are too protective. If I may be taken by his vote, then so be it, I should hold no grudges to him." (OOC:Forgive me for casting a vote before we even know who is going to die, but I'm not certain how long...)

Damon glances at Vahktang, his expression blank. "Forgive me for pointing out the error in your statement Mr. Vahktang, but I had stated I was reading 'with' my cat. I find it to be a rather soothing sleeping exercise to have the company of a purring cat on my lap and a good book to drown away the outside noises. While I cannot ask the cat to vouch for my part, I can assure you that I was in my room at the time that Gwaihir was attacked. It is up to your own logic, no offense intended towards you sir, to determine whehter or not I am telling the truth." "I am shocked by the death, but we still have two wolves in our midst, and in case my composure is any indication I might be a wolf, I simply believe a clear head is needed to continue this investigation. When all is safe, then I will show my grievance at a proper funeral. In the mean time, I believe we should assist our aid, Von Muncie, in his hunt for these vile things." "I cast no votes upon you all. There is still evidence to be searched for..." (OOC: So... ummm... are we allowed to search for evidence?)

Damon removes the kerchief from his mouth. "Indeed, now that we have proof as to some supernatural existence, i may be able to take this investigation a trifle more seriously." He paces back and forth in the town hall, looking a little more nervous than the day before, and every so often he shudders upon reminiscing the images of Gwaihir. "Well..." he states, steeling his nerves, "I should be able to tell you of my whereabouts last night. Certainly not the most concievable alibi, but I was reading with my cat. The only thing I heard was Gwaihir saying something, the two of us being neighbors and all, and heard the start of a scream. I was too terrified to look, however. I admit that I am a coward, but now that i know what I am dealing with, I may be able to better assist Von Muncie." "Now, if you consider the fact that whoever the wolf is going to be is not going to put on a display within the broad outdoors for the sake of somebody seeing them. they would do so in their home, where the transformation may be clandestine. Surely, if such a transformation does occur, reverting from the diminutive comaprison of human flesh to a large wolf, such as the one we saw within Gwaihir's runes, it would be agonizing and certainly could not be done within one spot. Our houses are not necessarily that large." He coughs at the last. The village has known Damon has wanted a larger house to store his collection of books. "I say we give each home a search before we accuse someone. A mess or two is expected, but rampant claw marks on the furniture is not something you will see everyday. We should search. On a more personal note, forgive me about stating we should move. This village may destroy itself in this hunt, but I suppose it would be better that we end this now."

Damon slinks into the tavern during the brief mourning of Eyremon and shakes his head. "Personally, I see no reason as to why we need to weed out the werewolf, if such a thing exists. I believe this is a manipulative illusion in effort for our own village to destroy itself." "We must look tomorrow for the evidence of Mr. Brown's whereabouts, because we have no conclusion to come to without determining whether or not his body has been ripped to pieces or not. we do not know if he simply decided to leave the village. We have no certainty of a wolf in our village, and as such we should all rest easy. Killing ourselves will bring nothing, and if worse comes to worse, we could simply jump the gun and burn the whole village down and move elsewhere... right?" Damon, being the logical one of the village, has his doubts, and after slamming down a few shots of whiskey to express his moderate mourning for the suicidal man who hung himself earlier, he retires to his home... locking his doors, just in case.

Hey, I was perusing the web and I stumbled acorss an RP site, or so the search engine told me. It looks like it just started, so I figured I might try to grab some attention to it and maybe it might go somewhere. whaddya say? It's over here... i think

This time Damon spoke aloud to the voice in his head. "Look Mr. Voice, I don't know where the hell you came from, or why you even showed up, but you have to know that I'm apt to be able to show a little more trust to something I can see and hear and touch than a guy who yells at me because I didn't kill the little dwarf in front of me. I don't care if you can kill me or him or anybody else, you're traveling in my head right now, so I'll do what I want to do, and until you can show yourself to best me, then stop trying to make me do things against my will. If I want the dwarf to live, the dwarf will live. I'm thankful for you helping me back there, but there is such a thing as betrayal, and being a demon, I know a thing or two about helping others to get what you want. So... just let this thing play out, all right?" Damon coughed as some of the other people were looking at him. "What? there's a voice in my head..." he smiled at Brek. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I already told you that I heal automatically, so I'll have to pass on that. Don't worry about the guy in my head. I don't know who he is, and you don't seem to be able to tell me who he is, so let's just not fuss over it. If you die, oh well. If I die, oh well. I'm sure we've both lived long enough anyway. Let's just get going, we have a prior engagement with that half-dragon's family assassin."

Wow... i'll get to hear the guy who accepted my application and all of that other stuff. And if I can find out how to use a webcam, i'll even see if he has scales or not... I'll try Mr. Wyvern.

Wee! My ashke is gettin up in da ranks! *hugs* Meow! Now, she's got one more step to go... Speaking of which, I have to do my quill quest sometimes as well...

So, I am supposeing that if one is a wolf, they may not attempt to convert others? Ye olde wolf of days past was known to infect it's fortunate victims with lycanthropy, and thus adding more to their number. Is that possible? In either case, this sounds a lot more interesting than Survivor, though the layout is sort of the same.

Hn... Wolf hunting sounds intriguing. And as such I shall aspire to be one of your band if you would have me.

(OOC: Diplomatic am I? Yes... I should exercise my temporary pacifism in such a story until we inevitably find ourselves at war... or not...) The small ship had landed on the planet Allenua a few hours before, and Ghalen was expecting to meet some form of escort to a council meeting. There was none, which pushed his mind in a sense of annoyance, but as there was no escort, there was no need for a hurry. "Sightseeing it is then." He said aloud, looking up at the modern marvels of the Allenuan buildings and the exotic plants of the planet. It seemed peaceful here, but he already knew that the city itself was blissfully unaware of potential warfare with the Tata' ri (sp?). As a diplomat, he was here to try and negotiate a pre-war armistice with some of the members of both planet's councils to prevent unecessary bloodhsed and destruction. being of neither race, he was impartial personally, but he did have a job to do. He clicked his nails rhythmically as he strolled through the city, making his way towards his destination. The meeting wasn't too far off, but it didn't mean that he couldn't spend some liesure time either. He'd been to the planet on business several times, acting as an interpreter and something of an Interplanetary Regulation Service, or IRS. He was there to try to maintain peace, but assist either side in temrs of supplies and the like should they go to war, and with the non-militant attitudes of the Allenua, they were probably going to need weapons. (OOC: I'm going to have to meet someone here... you know, to continue.)

(OOC: we need to get moving here soon, or this RP will die from idle movement... mine died the same way...) "Hey!" damon shouted to the empty air. "be nice to the dwarf-like person... er... Brek. If you can figure out a way to materialize or something, then kill him on your own time. Geez..." He turned back to the reeling dwarf. "Well, if you don't want to explain all that much, that's fine. i just figured i had to try. I don't know about the rest of the people around here, but if you want to tag along with us, the more the merrier as they say. and try not to lok so uncertain when you're trying to think... i might think you're lying or something." the incubus sheathed his sword (Unless I already did that...) and turned to the remainder of the group. "Well, we need to get moving. Thel onger we stand around and tend to battle wounds, the farther Silver's father's assassin gets away from us. Brek, you just make sure you don't do anything suspicious, and you won't have to worry about hostility towards you. Sorry, but i still don't have total trust for you. I hope you understand." (OOC: sorry nobody else posted in the fight, but we'll say that they did fight and were dealt their own blows. There will be another time for all of the fighting. we need to find a village or something, get ahold of a doctor... I just hope this RP will play out to the end, since so few of them actually do...)

"Hey voice... that's not really a justifiable reason to kill him for insulting other people. Dwarves and elves are generally enemies, or at least rivals, so it makes sense." Damon thought to the guy in his head before turning back to Brek and then looking over at Adglomero. "Oh..." he said really low and shifted his gaze downwards. "Hey... um... elf princess," he said in elvish, and telepathically, to Adglmoero. "I'm sure that looked really wierd, but it was a safety precaution. He's still alive and healed now, and I had a compulsion to interrogate him first... Being a necromancer that he is, I couldn't have him summoning the dead while i'm talking to him..." He then turned to Brek who had been talking about being hunted. "Well, i'm not hunting you. Especially since I don't know who you are. you're welcome to travel with us and all, just don't try anything really suspicious. I know it's kind of prejudice of me, but I was raised not to trust your kind, but i'm not going to hold a grudge on you or anything." The dwarf had been talking to Damon's head a moment later, about halfway through his sentence, and the incubus caught on. "Eh... you know the guy in my head?" (OOC: Geez... these are crappy posts. Maybe i'm losing my creative edge...)

(OOC: I rather enjoyed ths little test. sorry to end the decision so soon, but I made my choice...) "How rude..." Damon said to empty air, looking down on the angry dwarf-like creature. "Well, since you've been so honest with me little dwarf-ish demon... er... Brek. Sorry. I had a little voice in my head that told me to kill you, and it was rather convincing. Buuuut... as grateful as I am to have been helped by the voice, I can't pay homage to something i can't kill if it betrays me. Sorry voice, but I'll take this guys word for it. If he betrays me, I could kill him, but killing you would involve suicide... and i'm not ready for that." He sheathed his blood-stained ivory sword and pulled out his harp. A few tunes flew from hs lips and the hole in the Brek's head closed up. "Brek? Right? Well, sorry to have stabbed you in the head and all, but I can't easily trust someone who id partially daemonic. I've kind of been banished from there, so anything daemonic is usually sent to kill me. So, yeah... Don't try anything funny, and we'll be all right, all right? "I hadn't intended on you to grovel to anyone. I'm not royalty... well, not yet, but I can't give you any details on that. My name is Damon, an incubus, but don't think i have any real interest in my original heritage anymore. It got boring some centuries or more ago... I lost track. Sorry to hear that you're proud of what you are. I mean, no disrespect or anything, but things with souls, especially ones as valuable as yours, are generally hunted down, and admitting it to a demon isn't the smartest thing. If I wasn't banished, I would have sold your soul, so try not to be too proud, okay?" He looked up in thought, trying to remember what the voice had said. "Hey... Yes, you could have let me and the elf turn into that thing." he thought, not letting the dwarf hear him. "Hn... Decisions, decisions. well, Mr. Voice, i'll tell you what. I'll let this guy live for a while. I don't trust him anyways, so killing him wouldn't be a problem, but only if he gives me a reason to. So, stay a while and se what happens." (OOc: god, that was a craptacular post, but i got my point across. My hands are hurting... I think I have arthritis...) (OOC: Hey... wouldn't it be really creepy if this dwarf guy turned out to be family? Like... some kid I was responsible for centuries ago? That'd be really odd, but it's one hell of a plot twist...)

(OOC: Well, technically, I'm passed out, but whatever. Let's just say that a tree branch falls on my head and i wake up...) As the dwarf approached the fallen incubus, there was a light crack up above and a small stick landed on Damon's back. Damon jumped up wielding a sword he wasn't holding. He looked in his hand with dismay and picked up his sword just as the dwarf began to speak. (Dwarf talks...) "you're one of the unfortunate one's aren't you?" Damon said quizically. "I feel kind of bad to actualy see a mortal demon... half-demon, sorry. It must suck that you can't sell your own soul, since you'd fetch a good price for a hybrid... Oh, right... anyway." He waved his sword around in the air groggily. He was content with having collapsed into unconsciousness, and with the sudden battle-ready startle he had gone through, his entire body ached again. "KILL HIM!!!" the voice in his head screamed, but then lowered again. It seemed like it wasn't trying to hurt him, but this was urgent... "No... I'm all right. I don't really need healing. I'll be fine in about twenty minutes since I heal automatically. But... it's unfortunate." he looked down at the inquiring face. "Sorry..." he whispered to the half-demon while at the same time plunging his sword into the creature's skull, releasing it a second later. "I had to stop that voice. I didn't kill you, but I have to know what you're up to. For instance, where the hell did you come from? What are you doing here? What's your name? You know, the basic interrogation... and don't even mutter a syllable I don't understand, and kep your hands where i can see them. If it all turns out all right, I'd be happy to help you." He motioned to the blood pouring from a hole next to the hybrid dwarf's temple. (OOC: This is an interesting test... who is more evil? This dwarf or the voice in my head? Dilemmas, dilemmas... good job!)

Bleh... I don't know a whole lot of quotes, so i'm just going to use my own... I'm not fishing for supreme recognition or anything, but... Well, they're in my signature anyway. They're my darker quotes... Don't hide your feelings... destroy them. Respect what you love. tolerate what you hate. That is the key to sanity. I might edit this later with other stuff...

Very poetic and streamlined ashke, though I did not quite catch the actually storyline behind it. It was more of a large argument of some sort, or at least that is how i interpreted it. as I said, it was very poetic, and almost flowed like one, but i'm going to have to agree with Merry. I'm confused... what was going on? (BTW: I know you didn't intend it, but here's some useless information. Belial is the daughter of one of the arch-devils.)

Oops! >< Thank you for pointing out the shortcomings of my poem... i didn't even know i used the same words in that stanza... Perhaps i should have reviewed it a little more, but i was kind of emotional at the time I wrote it... In any case, i do appreciate the insight. I was not exactly going for an ABAB scheme, it just happened in that stanza. I was actually trying for a 7-5-7-5 syllable which made me have to put some really awkward adjustments in it. I noticed it too, but... Well, anyways, thank you for the concise review.