Savage Dragon

i occurs to me that if JK Rowling didnt have a 7th book planned, it would only take her 10 minutes max online to assemble enough theories to make a good book

ok, so is there no one else at this point that thinks Harry might be going back to Hogwarts, sure he said he didn't want to, but all the other books are centered around it and McGonagal (sp?) is sure as heck gonna need someone like Harry around to help the transition (who know, maybe Harry will be the next Dark Arts teacher). someone i think will talk him into coming back i still wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore pulled a Gandalf on us and magicially came back, just because hes buried doesnt mean the white tomb cant explode, and that would make an awesome scene in the movie (whenever it is). the only thing in my mind that suggests otherwise is the Flight of Fauwkes, his departure was sweet and poetic and would be hard to undo, meaning we may have lost this wizard of white. however, dumbledore didnt die needlessly im sure, he was in total control of the situation with Draco on the rooftop until Death Eaters started showing up and then he suddenly became "helpless." i think he at the very least must have sacrificed himself for not only Draco's life but Snapes as well. I have trouble seeing Snape as evil because there was no transition in the book at all to suggest he was turning sour (did anyone else notice that the reader was never once invited to participate in a Dark Arts class taught by Snape, mention of Homework was all that was written) if Snape is bad, then i pity him because hes going to suffer a very painful death at he hands of one of the good guys. if he's good, i pity him because he wont be able to convince anyone that he is good unless he dies for the good side. either way Snape dies in book 7. and speaking of death, what makes Harry think that just because he's not dating her means Ginny is safe from it. Even if her and Harry are just "friends" she's still going to be willing to go all the way for him (well, in death at least) oh and one last thing, RAB.... could the A stand for "and"? Dumbledore did mention that it would take two people to reach that locket

Duke of the house Munich (Duke is a name, not a title) Duke is the only suriving member of the very unpopular house Munich. Despised for their creulty to their own people and to the other houses, the house of Munich was systamatically wiped out. Only Duke was spared, being a child of two, no one had the heart to kill him. Originally dismissed by the other houses as likely to fall, Duke was cared for by another larger house that has assisted him in maintaining his "clan" at a very minute level. Duke is known for his generosity, thanks to the generosity shown to him at an early age. The vast wealth of his family is not what it used to be, but he has enough to suit him. His one and only shapeshifting shape, a demon, is slender and tall with "horns" of a sort, more closely resemblimg blades, on multiple parts of his body. However, his skin is that of a chameleon, instantly blending to its surroundings. Only the eyes, which always burn a firey bright blue, give him away. however, if he shuts his eyes.... Now that the regency is up for grabs, Duke is actively pursueing the throne, but does not really expect, or intend, to win. instead he uses the chance to be an observer, trying to learn as much as possible about the other "candidates". ones to befriend, ones to avoid, and possibly someone to rebuild his clan with. OOC: Looks like a good game in the works. This is a strange format for me, so let me know if im out of place. If anyone wants to be the larger house that took pity on Duke, or a possible future wife for him to rebuild his clan with, let me know

haha, the old throw them in the dark trick never fails. I will miss Chuck however, he was cool in that creepy, not-sure-if-you-wanna-be-alone-with-him way.

Tears fell from Chuck's eyes. He'd always had a weak stomache for blood and death, a direct result of losing all of his family to the war beyond the doors. He wanted nothing to do with the world beyond those doors. But now that world was seeping into his vault. it had taken the life of two adults... and two... children. Chuck threw up empty air, like many others, he hadn't eaten anything since the death of Cook. It was obvious to him that someone behind the scenes was responsible for these deaths, no ordinary killer could have evaded the security without being a part of it themselves. He suspected that Kyraine lady. So cool and calm and collected, like the rest of them. as long as nothing got out of hand they could easily take them out one by one. well he was about to get "out of hand." It would not take long for the others to notice the children were missing, but they need not worry, the children were hidden, safe where those mindless killers couldn't reach them. no one but him and the Overseer knew where he had hidden them. Now whas the time to rid the Vault of the evil that had seeped in. Lets see how these calm, collected killers handled a little darkness. Smiling, Chuck cut the power to the lights in the Vault. OOC: Kyraine, Tanuchan

im amazed at how closely this reminds me of a friend that i have as well, well excepting that only my dad is in the room and hes not paying attention

John walked up to Chuck and handed him the cigarette. "Here ya go," John said, hoping maybe for a reply, possibly a thank you. Chuck put the cigarette behind his ear and nodded his head, the only response that John would get out of him, then continued mopping the hall. "Um, I didn't realize you were a smoker," John tried again. Chuck shook his head. "You're not a smoker, then what do you want the cigarete for?" Chuck merely shrugged and kept mopping. John sighed and walked away knowing the game was pointless, besides he didn't want to be late. Chuck smiled. The cigarette would be useful in a small expirement he was trying, one to develop an anti-cigarette spray to get rid of the odor. When you have to recycle the same air over and over again, it takes longer for bad smells to dissappate. He could take this to the lab tonight, when he was supposed to be cleaning. No one would be there tonight so he couldn't get caught like he almost did this morning. Knocked over his lunch in his haste to get out too.

When I awoke and found the two Angels standing over me, i wept. I thought i was dead and so i cried, i blubbered, and i sobbed. It was true that i missed my family, hated my new life, and didn't know why i wanted to live anymore, but the simple fact remained that i DID want to live. I wanted there to be a reason i had to watch the world i know fall apart, not to just die myself a few weeks later. I wanted there to be a future for myself and the human race. I wanted there to be a place in the world for me. so when the figures in robes stood before me, i wept for i had died and it had all been for nothing. i knew the reason as well, for I had turned my back to God. The worst hour of the human race and i turned away from the one person that had always been my strength. When my family died, i ture off my cross and burned my bible and cursed the word God, and he in turn had turned his back on me. I hadn't done things his way and so i payed, and now here i stood before his angels to suffer the consequences. If i had stopped for a moment to think though, i might have seen things differently. I might have remembered that God turned his back on no one and that he wouldn't punish me for my shortcomings. If i had hought i wouldve realized that heaven was supposed to be a place of no tears, and that i couldnt possibly weep. I would've realized that God's angels were sent to aide mankind, not destroy. But i had lost faith, and i did not think. If i had stopped to think, i might have also noticed that the two "angels" looked just as confused as i felt.

"Chuck"s real name is Samuel Barnes, but everyone calls him Chuck. Not seen as one of the most important people in this small world, many even go as far as to wonder why he made it in this metal sanctuary. But their are a few who know. The youth in the vault all know about Chuck and he has befriended most of them, but only the most observant adults has caught on to Chuck. Most of them only call Chuck when they have a toilet plug or a broken refrigerator. Chuck is the janitor of the Vault and most don't give a second glance. But those who do will noticce how he can pop out at any time from anywhere, for he has the most knowledge by far of the innerworkings of the Vault (some kids even say he was the original designer, but hes to young for that....right?), those who who pay close attention will notice the lump in his back pocket where he keeps whichever "classic" hes reading, these days its Das Capital by Karl Marx, those who pay close attention will notice that the kids never lie to Chuck, because he can read people too well and always knows when they are fibbing. But you will notice these things only if you are the most observant, you will never hear these truths from Chuck himself, because he never talks, not to adults anyway.... ( i know i have a bad habit of disappearing mid-game, but now with summer here that shouldn't be a problem anymore, and if worse comes to worse chuck just becomes a npc)

Personally i think that getting hit by a car would be cooler, if you get struck by lightning you just kinda stand there and shake. if you get hit by a car, you do all sorts of flips and turns. plus if you get hit by lightning then that means more than likely you were some idiot standing in a field during a thunderstorm. if you get hit by a car its some other idiots fault and then after a few "neck" injuries, you're in the money

Ok which would be cooler, getting struck by lightning and surviving, or getting hit by a car and surviving?

Renegade. What a fun little word. It means rebel, revolutionary, radical. I remember pretending to be a renegade in all the little games I used to play with the other boys when I was kid. Just thinking about those boys makes me wonder…. “Renegade” was the kinda thing you’d name a dog. Heck, I had three dogs named Renegade. Okay, actually their names were “Fluffy”, “Spot”, and “Rover,” according to the rest of my family, but I always liked the name Renegade and that’s what I called them. The family had one dog or another since I was born, but they always ended up leaving the house to live on “happy farms.” In fact the last moment I remember about my house, my family, and my life before it was screwed up, is when we were trying to figure a name for the newest puppy. As usual Renegade wasn’t a popular choice, but in the end it was the only choice. No one else had a chance to give input before… Okay when the world gets woken to the harsh reality of other beings in the universe, and they choose to announce their existence by gassing the entire planet with a new alien pathogen that kills off all but 10,000 of its inhabitants, everyone has a sob story. Noxious fumes have a tendency to ruin special family moments, like naming the dog. In the end, only the dog and me survived. One week was all it took for me to watch everyone I knew, literally everyone I knew, die horrible deaths. It was a difficult time, to say the least; all in one week, and then to wait for five more terrible weeks, wondering why I had been “spared.” 5 weeks for relief to come and when it came it was just as scary as the attack. Renegade barked up a storm when another set of “flying saucers” showed up in the sky. I did a lot of yelling myself, shouting every profanity I knew to those lumbering ships. The air still smelled of death and I was sure that these they had come to add my own stench to it. Somewhere in my head there is an emergency switch that must have been thrown at that moment, my brain deciding the only way to avoid total failure was shutdown. That’s where the Angelics found me, lying next to the ashes that had been my house, burnt down by my own hand, the easiest funeral I could offer my family, with my dog, Renegade, licking my hand. Open Role-Play

The teacher is teaching, the student is taught The teacher is happy, the student is not The student doesn’t understand what the teacher has taught But he smiles anyway, so he doesn’t get caught He doesn’t understand the teacher’s lesson He knows that there is something missing But still his smile doesn’t lessen He nods his head and just keeps guessing Cause he doesn’t want to get caught, with what he’s been hiding so long That he guesses his answers, though he knows they’ll be wrong He just has to fake it, till the classroom bell dongs And then he’ll be fine cause the problem will be gone Once he gets done, he won’t worry anymore Cause the problem stays behind him, when he walks out that door School doesn’t follow him to his home anymore He won’t work, he won’t study, just like the night before He only worries about school when he is there They can’t make him worry, they can’t make him care To make him carry that burden just wouldn’t be fair All of these troubles would be more than he could bare The quizzes he failed, the projects he didn’t do, the lies he told, the teachers he let down The papers he forgot, the students he copied off of, the promises he broke All of that work he didn’t do He doesn’t want to think about that, would you?

Brother Phillips finished the series of prayers and put down the hammer. this sword was already finished, he knew he was just wasting his time. He knew what he should be doing, but still he didn't feel like starting that project just yet. All his years at the abbey, only other time had he been asked to do this particular projecthad been over a 7 years ago and that person had died from old age. He wasn't too comfortable with untimely death, but he had his own reasons for that. Still he had already recieved word that grave had been dug. No use putting it off any further. He grabbed a handfull of nails and went to look for some long boards.

you ever wonder where you'll be when you finally meet her? What you'll be doing, what it will be like when you finally get to see her? You know who i'm talking about. the one. we all have one. its just im always curious as to what it'll be like when i see her. will i recognize her? will i know who she is? when will she come to me? will she come to me when i need her most or when i'm least expecting it? will i be crying, will i be smiling, will i be in a fit of rage, or will i be asleep? i wonder ... what will she look like? will she be someone im expecting or someone im not expecting? Someone like me or a world apart? when i meet her, will she know who i am? what she means to me? when i see her, will i shake her hand, will i give her a hug, or will i kiss her? will i know her name? will i care what her name is? when i first see her, how long will i look at her? will i glance at her, and then glance another way without even realizing or will i stare at her and just want to keep on staring? when i finally get to meet her, will it be someone i've already met? the one friend i always sat next to but never thought of as being her or will it be the one i've always wanted? will it be that girl i've always had a crush on but never had the guts to speak to? will she finally turn around and look at me? or will it be someone entirely new? someone i've never laid eyes on before except maybe in a dream cause iv'e had that dream before sometimes when i close my eyes, you know, as pathetic as it sounds, i can just close my eyes and feel her there sitting next to me, just trying to listen to her breathe, trying to catch a glimpse of what she smells like. i close my eyes and imagine that shes sitting next to me with her arms around me just ... breathing, with me, only with me. hmm, i just wonder what she'll be like? what will i be like? will i instantly know and be courteous and polite and be all she wants me to be? will i make her laugh? will i make her stop ... stop and ponder or will i not even be noticed by her? will i she her and she'll walk on or will i see her and say my name? will i have courage? thats something i dont have often, will she invoke in me courage? these are things i wonder, do you wonder them? when i see her, will i know? will she know? and if not, how long before i get to find out? i just want to meet her so i can stop wondering.

decided to go with a different route than previously considered Brother Phillips Hue Said to be one of the older monks of the abbey, not many are sure where exactly he heralds from but he does carry an irish accent, so many assume he's from Ireland. In fact he was born in England, but raised in Ireland. His true heritage caused him to be outcast by the other children of his village and so he grew up to be bitter and resentful, and he poured himself into work as a blacksmith, forging great swords. He lived a half-life between work and sleep until the sweet mother Mary showed him the way to Grace and he became a monk. Having spent several years at other monasterys as well, Phillips now resides at this particular monastery, where he's taken the job of their local blacksmith. Working mainly to create kitchenware and horseshoes, with the occasional fish hook, he still is a master at building swords, which although he has no use for, he can sell to passerbyers and local villages for a small amount. Well known by all the monks and many of the villagers, hes often a counsler to those in distress, that is if they speak loud enough, his hearing has been failing him in recent years.

very nice poem i read it and i cant help thinkin 'been there, felt that'

I AM SO IN!! Feels good to be wearing the old sheepskin again. I voted for the TV sitcom, but ill play in either of course. For the TV: im thinking a retired-actor gone-director who is use to people listening to him. A frustrated guy who has to deal with egotistical actors and rumors about how his female leads got their parts (wether theres any truth to those rumors, well i'll wait and see how the charater feels). Still he's good at what he does and still finds time to enjoy some fishing with his buds. For Monks: Eh, i'll think of something if i have to, id prolly go as one of the newer monks who is thought as a bit more radical than the rest Soooo excited about this game so lets get it started already and get as many people in it as we can. maybe if we get enough, we can fit in 3 wolves....who knows?

Well, im as happy as.. well something thats really happy. im defintely on the list of players for the next game, no matter the setting

Awooooooooo!!!! Hey all, um its me, foolish. i dont know who remembers me but i was one of the guys who was with the whole werewolf gang for a while until i tried MODing a game and dropped the ball and disappeared thanx to a whole lot a crap i was getting at home, sooo now after getting my things in order, ive kinda wandered back, but alas, the werewolf games have continued without me and now i fear, i am forgotten. but oh well, ill move on. i see that you guys are in the middle of a game so, uh, if someone could PM me when then next one starts, that'd be great

ah, yea that works, thanx

**Scoff** Eric dobbins was no fool. Being the church usher he was one of the first to notice when the Mercys started mising services. And he had always been suspicous of them from the start. They just didn't seem the same as the rest. Of course being a good christain, he didn't speak ill of his fellow man, though he might have told the Reverend, and of course it was his civil duty to tell the sherriff, and he might have mentioned something to Thomas Parcel in passing, and Anne Arthur discussed it with him yesterday, but other than that, he didn't tell anyone.

That seemed a little sudden, and it sounds like a death wish. A bit dark for the rest of the poem, I thought. Anyway, I love this poem, and at this time it really relates to my life... i know what yur saying. it does sound a bit suicidal and thats not what i want but im having trouble getting something else to fit. i defeintly want some sort of plea to the lord but i dont want it to sound like hes going to kill himself

awww, well..... **blush** thank you **hugs back**

wow this thing is old, i dont even remember getting this much feedback. Here i decided to work on it a little.