Welcome to Gaia! ::

Apparently she can deal with physical abuse much better than mental abuse. You should've probably threatened to TK her to the ceiling or something similar instead.

JUST LEVE HER 2 ZOMBY CATWOMAN!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!!!!!!!!! domokun domokun domokun

Meditation, the key to keeping ones mind in focus. . .that's some crap. It might have worked for monks and those that followed, but for the mutant Nate Grey, formely known as X-Man, meditation simply meant he had to sit down for a long time.

"The Cyberdome, I guess we're going to be friends. . ."

With his mind kept in check during an match against a simulation or another partner, it was in the midsts of battle that all things were clear.

"I wonder if there is a CD Player in here?"

With hands in their normal place, the pockets a pair of Scotts jeans, Nate strolled the perimeter of the 'Dome, keeping his body in tension just incase some random cyborg-mutant killing-future hopping-whatever came charging in with guns/blades/or powers blazing.

"I wonder what everyone is doing. . ."

*Peeks inside the Cyberdome*

twisted

:::Engaging program 1A - American past time:::

*A baseball stadium emerges. Fans have filled the stadium to partake of the great American diversion.*

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day,
The score stood four hundred thirteen to zero, with but one inning more to play.

And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair.
The rest clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast.
They thought, "if only Casey could but get a whack at that.
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake;
and the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake.

So upon that stricken multitude, grim melancholy sat;
for there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all.
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball.

And when the dust had lifted,
and men saw what had occurred,
there was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

it pounded through on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat;
for Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

ANNOUNCER1: The Mudville nine are going for the throat, Josh!

ANNOUNCER2: With the Injustice League's pitcher as tired as he is, I don't know how they can hold onto their slim lead!

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place,
there was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.

And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
no stranger in the crowd could doubt t'was Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.

Then, while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
and Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped --
"That ain't my style," said Casey.

"Strike one!" the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
like the beating of the storm waves on a stern and distant shore.

"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand,
and it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity, great Casey's visage shone,
he stilled the rising tumult, he bade the game go on.

He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew,
but Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
and they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

ANNOUNCER1: Wait a minute, the II is sending in a relief pitcher!

ANNOUNCER2: Frankie Raye jogs to the mound!

*She glances to first base and the runner threatening to steal. Now to third, and the runner in position, and finally she goes into her windup, casting a glance over her shoulder to second and the remaining runner.*

twisted

The sneer has fled from Casey's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate.
He pounds, with cruel violence, his bat upon the plate.

And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now she lets it go,
and now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

ANNOUNCER1: There's the windup...

ANNOUNCER2:... and heeerre's the pitch!



ANNOUNCER1: Oh my God! Casey has struck the ******** out!

*wanders around in the cyberdrome*

*waves balloons threateningly towards the shadows*

He's around here somewhere.... ninja

Rachael vs. Nathanial. SOMEONE GET RICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!