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 Posted: Sat Apr 09, 2011 4:27 pm
 Makyo NagareboshiSpawnThe seemingly demonic figure stood in awe suddenly as he spotted something unnatural. Something like he had never even seen before. It was so full of plants and trees that talked to Makyo, and he could talk back. His awe though would only last until he snapped out of it. He had to study the ways of these people, and the people themselves. To make new friends was his aim, new allies, and learn new things. He moved on, and moved to see if he could spot an academy to watch the students and teacher. (Exit to Classroom--> wink I'm dissolving in the darkness
I breath the pain that you never thought possible
I am breathing like the darkness itself
I am the warrior of darkness who came to do goodEnergy Pool: 1100 Strength: 8 normal, and 11 in Carapace ModeSpeed: 1
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Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2011 9:29 pm
The girl first stopped by the Floating Gardens, remembering that it contained biochemist materials that could be collected. However, a quick scan with her ears allowed her to process enough sounds to know that Pix wasn't in the gardens. The object of her search not present, Feather spun around a bit and then chose a random direction to continue her search in. She then began to run in that direction. Sora, as usual, was clinging to her shoulder. This time, he was just relieved that Feather wasn't running as fast as she had been when she left the palace.
-Exit-
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 4:43 pm
Rank Trainee▓▓▓ Class Knight▓▓▓ Race Dreadnought▓▓▓ Energy 500 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
Shilon trekked through the city, trying to find some hint of where he was supposed to be going. Unfortunately he hadn't even seen any other people since the girl who had sprinted into the city past him, and she had quickly vanished down an alley. There had to be some indication of who he was supposed to talk to in order to enlist, but aside from a side directing people who have already enlisted out towards some Captain's home, there had been nothing.
The large metal-clad warrior was now in some kind of an ice garden - pillars of ice stood tall around him wherever he looked, melting at the top but growing as fast as they melted, with pools of water around the base of each. He leaned against a stone pillar near the entrance and shook his head - he needed to take a small break before continuing his hunt for where to go.
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"With my own two hands I'll protect everyone dear to me."
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 8:27 pm
Strength: 11____ڬ Balthazar Arlaise ڬ____Speed: 8 Novice, Blademaster, and host of Gluttony  Balthazar walked into the area with his weapons hooked to his belt and a few scrolls in his fanny pack. He had spent too much time just eating, and chasing after people, and hadn't spent any time training. So he had come here to make up time for it. So after coming to a nice spot that didn't have anyone around, he opened up his fanny pack, and took out a scroll of Waktu blood scripts. 1/6 He then opened up the scroll and quickly went to the first skill in the list. "Alright, looks like the first one is just making a shield." He mumbled to himself. But he didn't that seemed a little boring for him, so he read the next one. 2/6 As he looked at the tittle of the next skill he thought that this one showed more promise. "Speed. It looks like this one will make me faster. That's gona be useful in the tournament." So he took a minute to read through the skill. 3/6 After reading through the skill, he took a job around the area to just gauge how quick he could run with out the blood script. After he had a pretty good feel of how fast he could move, he took out one of his hunting knives and cut his index finger. He watched as the blood welled up on his finger and he used it to draw a feather on his left arm. 4/6 Balthazar took a minute to just admire the little feather that he had drawn on his arm. He was a Waktu, but this was the first time time that he was learning to use a bloodscript. And it made him itch to try it out on someone. 5/6 So Balthazar decided to try the bloodscript out, and focused his energy into it. He felt the bloodscript warm, and looked like it started to glow a little. Balthazar then dashed to the other side of the area, and he could feel a noticeable difference in speed. 6/6 Blood Script: Speed learned. ~Profile~
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 9:46 pm
Strength: 11____ڬ Balthazar Arlaise ڬ____Speed: 8 Novice, Blademaster, and host of Gluttony After taking a few laps around the area, Balthazar took a minute to catch his breath. He then glanced at the bloody feather on his arm, and grinned. Now he could beat the crap out of people quicker. 1/6 But that blood script isn't the only one he needed. So he got up off of the ground, and walked over to his Waktu scroll. He then opened it up to pick out the next blood script. 2/6 He skipped past the shield bloodscript, thinking that he'll leave that for last, and looked at the one after that. "Power. Looks like this one makes me stronger." He said to himself, and started reading through the skill. 3/6 After he finished reading through the skills, he looked around for something to lift. A little ways off he saw a pretty sizable rock, and jogged over to it. He then lifted it up to see how heavy it was. 4/6 After he had gotten a good feel of how heavy the rock was, he dropped it and squeezed the finger that he had cut earlier. After the blood started welling up on the end of it, he started using the blood to draw on his chest. Once he was done, he had a bloody star of david on his chest. 5/6 He then focused his energy onto the bloodscript and again could feel the energy in it, and saw that it started to glow slightly. Balthazar then picked up the rock, and felt that the rock had become noticeably lighter. He then tossed the log a little distance away, and smiled. 6/6 Blood Script: Power learned. ~Profile~
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 10:14 pm
Strength: 11____ڬ Balthazar Arlaise ڬ____Speed: 8 Novice, Blademaster, and host of Gluttony Now that Balthazar had learned the power bloodscript, he went back to the scroll to learn the next one. He opened the scroll and quickly scanned through the skills. A good amount of them looked too difficult for him, so he decided he'd learn the shield blood script. 1/3 So Balthazar took his time to read through the skill, and study how to do it. Once he was done, he squeezed his cut finger again, and welled some blood at the end of it. He then drew in an oval on the back of his left hand, and a smaller circle inside of it. 2/3 He then focused his energy on the blood script and felt his energy go into it. Then a white luminescent shield appeared above his bloodscript, and just hovered there. Balthazar cut off the energy flow to it, and picked up his scroll of Waktu skills. 3/3 Blood Script: Shield learned ~Profile~
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 10:22 pm
Strength: 11____ڬ Balthazar Arlaise ڬ____Speed: 8 Novice, Blademaster, and host of Gluttony Now that he had a few blood scripts, Balthazar walked out of the area, and made his way towards kusana. ~Profile~
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2011 5:55 pm
Amaterasu    
In my eyes you're a giant,
The keeper of all the keys,
Different but compliant
A God for someone like me
Learned to read what you're thinking...
Suffering every moment left alone...
Tamed the beast deep within me...
Sleep in peace friend, cause I am guarding...
Lycan
Wanderer
Master
Amaterasu dragged Jasper into the Floating Gardens before she released him from her grip. The woman decided this would be as good a place as any to start training. "Well...I might as well get started..."
Amaterasu began concentrating on her body. As she concentrated, her body started glowing a purple color, the color of her aura. She then began shrinking down and growing white fur. The red markings on her body stayed over the new fur she was growing. Before too long, a white and red wolf stood there staring up at Jasper.
(Primal Instinct)
While in this form, Cherry decided to try another skill. This one was going to change her scent. Concentrating once more, the woman began changing her scent by using her energy. Before too long, the scent that came up to Jasper's nose was of flowers.
(Flower Scent learned)
When I'm not howling at the bright new moon
The burning flame within, my own kin, and
Every night I hear something out there calling me
Reminding me, friend, to know, that I'm not your child...
I follow when you lead, and do what you command,
But there is something that is out of my hand
It's my own nature, appetite, I am a creature of the night
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2011 6:44 pm
Amaterasu
In my eyes you're a giant,
The keeper of all the keys,
Different but compliant
A God for someone like me
Learned to read what you're thinking...
Suffering every moment left alone...
Tamed the beast deep within me...
Sleep in peace friend, cause I am guarding...
Lycan
Wanderer
Master
Amaterasu turned to Jasper. "I'm going to set things up. You can follow me if you like." She turned and left the gardens.
(Exit to Murderous Moon)
When I'm not howling at the bright new moon
The burning flame within, my own kin, and
Every night I hear something out there calling me
Reminding me, friend, to know, that I'm not your child...
I follow when you lead, and do what you command,
But there is something that is out of my hand
It's my own nature, appetite, I am a creature of the night
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 11:07 am
Amaterasu walked into the gardens once more. The woman found a nice spot away from all the others and took a seat on the ground. She had brought her guitar with her and started strumming. Why did her life consistantly s**t on her? Wasn't she worth anything? Finding that the answer was no numerous times, she found herself starting to hope and pray for the sweet kiss of death. She found it was the only thing she looked foreward to.
Singing in a low tune, the womans voice could be heard by those who were near her. "lips, ripe as the berries in june. Red the rose, red the rose. Skin pale as the light of the moon... Gently as she goes.
Eyes, blue as the sea and the sky. Water flows, water flows. Heart, burning like fire in the night... Gently as she goes..."
She played a little chorus before repeating those versus and finally bringig the song to an end.
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 1:58 pm
Amaterasu turned and left, heading home.
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Posted: Fri Jul 08, 2011 11:34 pm
Rank Trainee▓▓▓ Class Knight▓▓▓ Race Dreadnought▓▓▓ Energy 500 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
Shilon knelt near the water of one of the ice pillars, turning his helmet over and over in his hands as he studied it. Over the months that he had worn it the chunk of metal had picked up a fair amount of grime and sweat, and was looking a fair bit dingy. He shrugged slightly and set it down beside him and began rummaging through the pouches belted around his waist. Eventually the Knight found what he was searching for - a bundle of steel wool emerged from a pouch and he smiled, his shaggy brown hair hanging around his face. His free hand picked up the helmet again before dipping it into the chilling water.
After he got used to the chill reaching him through his gloves, he took the scrubber to the worst of the rust on the helmet, as well as the salt build ups and the spots of blood that had dried on it from his training. This helmet had seen the young warrior through a lot of traveling, and joining this nation, and the Knight felt slightly ashamed of himself for not taking better care of it before now. He would have to take better care of it now, or else it might fall apart on him.
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"With my own two hands I'll protect everyone dear to me."
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 7:35 pm
Miserene
Banshee ₰ Psychomancer
Trainee  The cloaked figure made her way into the gardens by slipping quickly, silently and near invisibly in the few shadows of the beautiful gardens. The Glacanian waterfalls rushed and splashed into deep tepid pools that spilled over locks into streams that fed a central river. The gardens both below and above were breath-taking. If you looked at them. Miserene didn’t look at them.
Were someone to catch a glimpse of the slight, stealthy figure they would see the cloak gripped tightly about her and pulled low on her face. The shroud itself was a soft, light grey knit lined with fleece. But on closer inspection it was clear that it was not merely dirty from an arduous road voyage. The stains and dirt were concentrated spots, clods of material still hanging off in places. Even though her stride was swift and silent, there was a certain unsteadiness to it.
For most of the day she had remained out of sight in the town, merely observing. She wondered how long she could remain like that. Just being around people was starting to cheer her. Occassionally she walked out in plain sight, though still heavily cloaked and no one gave her a second glance. A few people even spoke to her. Simple little words, casual greetings and generic well wishing. But each time she found herself closer and closer to a euphoria that she had only heard of and never experienced. Her grip had slackened on her hood and once when a handsome young man had bid her hello, she tested out her voice in response. The word came out hollow and high pitched but not unfeminine or unattractive.
She had spent most of the day wandering the streets of Pronta. Her wet feet in her sodden boots were quickly beginning to blister and she was started to fatigue. There were inns of various quality and just as she was about to find the most derelict, therefore most affordable, one,she felt a familiar shadowy chill. Her opal eyes turned and scanned the street, her feet turned from their current course to follow where the sensation led her. It was near the end of the day and merchants were desperately hawking the last of their goods and shoppers rushing to get them, people bustled through the streets on foot or by mount and cart.
Walking past a stand where various stones and amulets were laid out for buyers inspection, the elderly old crone that ran the stand looked up and caught Miserene’s gaze before she could look away. Her face was still slightly shaded as she hurried on, but she felt the old woman’s gaze on her back as she weaved through the throng of traffic, pulling her hood lower once again. But she continued on, the feeling was getting stronger.
It was cool and crisp, almost refreshing, like a fall day where there is no haze or fog to cloud the air. The world seemed to slow down and her gaze dropped down from the faces that she had been searching ever lower near their waist level when she spotted the face of the one that death was about to claim, a child. Lovely white blonde hair bounced in ringlets about the sad sooty face. If not for its slowness, Miserene might have guessed that starvation was this child’s parting path to the dark beyond. Like a doll dressed in child’s clothing, the dirty rags just hung loose from her bony frame. Miserene herself was extremely slight, but unlike her willowy limbs and tiny frame, this child showed evidence of malnourishment and disease.
But this was not a lingering death awaiting the small girl. No, Miserene could feel that sickly aura hanging over many of the people that she passed. Death had marked them indeed and would come for them only after long infirmity. But this child was about to leave the earthly realm, imminently. The girl did not see Miserene as the Banshee followed her. The opal eyes set deeply in the depths of the shadowy cloak lingered over the details of the girl. How long would she have lived otherwise? Might she have had children? Or escaped the slums to forge a better life?
All unlikely. The girl would have probably grown into a sickly teen and died during childbirth, as was the fate of so many. The cool aura sharpened and Miserene felt the familiar pang of despair and sadness. Despite the child’s grim future, she wished that she could save her. If she stopped her now and sent her home, would it change anything? Could she reorder fate? And would she suffer for her interference?
Her throat clenched and she had to fight to hold in a shriek of sadness. It was getting closer. Dirty sludge in the street spleched under her soaked wool boots as the child darted in amongst the crowd. But it was all to easy to keep up with her. For a small, quick creature like Miserene anyway. Unable to hold in her song any longer, Miserene’s lips parted and low, hauntingly crystal clear notes slipped from her lips. A few people on the street paused and turned to glance at the cloaked singer that walked slowly down the street. The child paused and looked back but then hurried on her way.
“Oh, I searched the hill from end to end, from side to side, to the edge of the streams.” Miserene’s sad voice began low but clear. Those she passed felt chills and hurried away, confused and disturbed, as though someone had walked over their grave. Miserene took no note of them as she trailed behind the child, her heart clench as she felt death’s grip clenching over the child. “Oh, I searched the hill from end to end, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
A vendor selling apples turned to look at Miserene as her singing grew louder. “I found the track of the brown otter, the brown otter, the brown otter. I found the track of the brown otter, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
The child slid through the crowd closer to the vendor’s stand and her small dirty hand darted out and closed quickly around a rosy cheeked apple and pulled it back to her ragged frame. “I found the track of the swimming swan, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
More people were looking curiously at Miserene as her odd singing left the crowd feeling cold and trembling with an unsettled sense of impending sorrow. “I found the track of the wild duck on the pond, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
A shrieking came from the street behind Miserene. The old crone from the gemstone stand was pushing and shoving through the crowd shouting. Miserene could hear the words ‘banshee’ and something that sounded disturbingly like ‘kill her’. Her identity known, Miserene let the cloak drop away from her head, her long white hair fanning out on the growing wind and her opal eyes gazing with tunnel vision at the child who was now dashing from the apple stand. “I found the track of the spotted red fawn, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
The crowd was milling uncomfortably, shrieks of alarm at Miserene’s appearance, the rush of feet away from her and others towards her and general hysterics joining the crone’s howling. The child was as unconcerned with the crowd’s disturbance as Miserene, only thinking of her prize as she darted across the street.
A vendor who sold goods off the back of a horse drawn cart had swung up hurriedly into the driver’s seat and flapped the reins and cracked the whip sending the spooked cart horse flying forward. Pedestrians jumped out of the way as the cart sped round the corner. But a mop of blonde tangles dashed out without knowledge of the horse and cart’s rampage bearing down on her. The vendor shouted a warning that was too late. The reins snapped taunt. The horse squealed and its shoes clopped and slid on the wet dirty cobbles and pedestrians shouted in alarm. The child never made a noise. Miserene walked into the now open street as the vendor whipped the horse on, his guilt flogging him even harder. “I found the track of the cow in the bog, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
The crowd was hung back, shrieking and crying at the sight of the small crushed body in the street. A woman dashed forward to tend to the child but she looked up and retreated fearfully as Miserene approached slowly and calmly. The child was sputtering and gurgling. Her lips now rubies and her eyes bright with pain and shock. For the first time, her eyes met Miserene’s and stared into the opal deaths as she shook. “I found the track of the mist on the hill, I did not find my Chùbhrachan.”
Her last words rang out as the child’s brown eyes opened wide and then lost focus and dulled. Her body relaxed and sunk flat onto the filthy street as her skeletal arms fell outward at her sides. The rosy red apple tumbled free of her hungry grip and rolled just out of the child’s grasp to rest in a pool of red. Miserene looked on, her body shaking. So small. So frail. The look of death was innately disturbing and felt wrong. When a spirit moved on, the shell that they felt behind left so little resemblance to its former glory. She was so much less.
Her white hair billowed in the breeze as Miserene threw her head back and shrieked in pain and grief. The howl echoed throughout the streets, piercing to the large crowd as they all covered their ears, many falling to the ground. But the shout sent them into motion. A mob charged at her, the old crone near the front waving a knobby walking stick. Not the first time she had seen such a thing, Miserene’s hand was quickly on her pendant, rubbing it as she tried not to panic. She knew better than to try to explain.
What had she been thinking? She could never live amongst people. Not when this was as part of her nature as breathing. No one would understand. Miserene pulled back, only to meet a mob marching from the other side of the street. Those too afraid to advance were on the sidelines, shouting, jeering, their faces contorted in rage. Miserene’s pale eyes darted around but not one friendly face was to be found. Not that she had expected it, but hope reigns eternal. It was hard to say who started the throwing. First it had been a stale loaf of bread and it was soon followed by rocks, rotten vegetables and mud as the mobs tightened around her and the shouting was nearly deafening.
Miserene was squeezing her pendant but her breathing was rapid and her heart was pounding. She knew that speaking or explaining was beyond her and no one would listen anyway. If not for her speed, she would never have escaped. And it was still with quite a few painful knocks. The crone was the worst, she had turned the heavy cane and drew it back and hit Miserene in the thigh, just missing her knee. Even now her gait was shortened and she winced each time she set her left leg down.
The gardens were quiet and Miserene found a place where tall trees and bushes shrouded the side of one of the pools. Slipping the cloak off as she sobbed, she crumpled to the ground. Her right hand grasped her pendant still and her left hand rubbed her right arm trying to warm the ever present chill that she felt to her core. She felt frozen and her heart was breaking. Her mind was still stuck on her final image from the town.
Running away from the mob, once she had gotten out of the center of the throng, had been easy. She was easily faster than any of them. She had finally gotten ahead of them but they were giving chase, shaking impromptu weapons like pitchforks, heavy brooms and shovels at her, driving her out of the town. Cresting a small hill in the road she looked back. The crumpled body was still in the road, but no one was with her. The crowd had followed Miserene or ran away but not one person was there to mourn the child or collect her body. Then a shadowy figure emerged from an alley.
Miserene’s heart had hope that this was a mother or father, someone that had loved the girl to care for her and cry over her. But the dirty tramp ambled lamely forward and glanced shiftily around before reaching out and snatched up the apple. Rubbing the child’s blood off on the dirty rags the tramp wore, the figure disappeared in the shadows and Miserene felt rather than heard, the bite into the forbidden fruit.
Her body shook and she cried readily, squeezing and rubbing at the emerald to keep her from loosing control and howling uncontrollably. Her skin was covered in filthy from the attack and her clothes were just as sooty. Deciding to start with the clothes, she submerged the heavy cloak in the lukewarm water to soak and removed her light slip of a dress and grungy boots. From the one boot she extracted the bar of soap that she had stolen on the way out of town.
Methodically, she scrubbed the clothes, her tears still flowing and mixing with the water. The slimy, discolored suds floated on top of the water and drifted over the spillway as the pool continued to replenish itself and the dirty water was carried away to the river. Hanging the scrubbed and rinsed garments from a low hanging branch, she climbed into the pool. Her face was still wet but she had run out of tears to cry. Her body tremored slightly and an occasional sob would slip from her lips but she found herself calming. The exhaustion of her escape and sorrow had worn her down to a numb acceptance.
Her body dropped under the surface of the water and Miserene scrubbed her skin and hair harshly with the bar of soap. She wanted the dirt of the city off of her skin. She scrubbed until she felt raw and fresh. Letting the soap bob up to the surface of the water, she remained under the water breathing easily. There was a comforting silence, complemented only but the gentle sound of the small spillway above and the pulling flow of water through the pool. This reminded her of her years under the lake. She knew that she was just hiding from the world, but somedays that seemed like the better option.
Something floated past her face, and she gave it little mind. The shocking and grotesque images of the girl along with all of the other deaths that she had witnessed were cycling through her mind. An endless show that she wished she could stop. Though she wondered if that was an insult to their memory. She had been with them in their final moments, her death lullabies had carried them off and her opal gaze was the last think that they saw of this world. She had given them a special gift, comfort in a moment of terror and uncertainty. Not that she didn’t have her own fears and insecurities. Just the thought of which sent her hand up to grasp her pendant.
Her hand found bare skin.
Her eyes flew open. Her hand groped again. As her body hung suspended in the deep water, her moments turned frantic. Her pendant was gone. Suddenly she remembered that something had drifted past her face. Spinning in the deep water she peered around just in time to see a sparkle of silver and emerald slip over the spillway.
Shrieking under the water her naked body shot to the surface and she scrambled over the spillway herself into the small stream. The stream was not deep enough to swim in, only coming up to her hips but her hands sloshed through the water and grabbed with panicked desperation. Her brain was spinning and her breathing was coming faster and faster. She felt her anxiety peeking and her lips were pressed tight together as she tried to keep from screaming and shrieking only because she didn’t want to waste time and chance losing her pendant.
No, she couldn’t lose it. There was no way. What would she do if she did lose it?
Die. I will die if I lose it. I can’t…I can’t…I can’t go on without my pendant.
The waters were picking up speed and the chain and emerald surface and swept out into the river.
“NOOOOOOOO!” Her voice howled and shrieked as she lunged forward into the deep, swift moving river. Now she could get her head back underwater. Her wet hair was clinging to her arms and body as she tried to run through the stream and dive into the river. The rapid water felt colder and the rushing made it foam and all manner of debris was being carried along. She swam forward, scanning the riverbed and the water ahead of her clutching at every loose bit of debris. She once thought that she caught sight of the necklace again but when she swam forward and grabbed out she found only sticks and leaves. She darted from side to side of the river, the bed to the upper rapids. She fought the current or let it drift her along.
But no pendant. She was shrieking now. Short bursts of panic and she fretted and tried to hold her composure together, focus on finding it. But as she became more and more sure that she was never going to find it, her body felt wracked with panic and hysteria. Her hand kept reaching up to clutch at her neck but bare skin was only more of a reminder that she was now all alone in the world. There was nothing for her, it was a vast empty hollow and she would be all alone until the day that death came for her. Her brain was thinking so fast that she couldn’t even make sense of things and her breathing was bordering hyperventilating and she thrashed in agony in the water as she shrieked and yelled in desperation.
She just wanted Death to come and take her. But she could feel that even he wasn’t coming for her.((Footnote: The song featured in this post 'Mo Chubhrachan' is an old Gaelic Faerie song. It was traditionally sung at the death bed of children speak of how the fairies were going to steal them away.))
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2011 1:21 pm
Liliana the LightArch-Mage of the Spire Expert ■■■ Seer ■■■ Mage/Cleric ■■■ Energy: 1200/1625Keeper of Lust"Everyone has value."███████████████████████████████████████
Liliana appeared with Selene in the Floating Gardens, high up where most eyes wouldn't see them. Her power feed into Selene's body as she turned the girl away from her so she wouldn't be facing forward for any attacks. What she had learned from Lust she had to apply now if she wanted the young girl safe.
[Lifeline started 1/3]
███████████████████████████████████████  
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Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2011 11:20 pm
Katorin & MaximusAdept
Anima
Bard Katorin lead the drunken Jocelyn here. He lowered her to where she could sit on the ground and enjoy the warmth radiating from the springs. But he tried to keep her far enough away so that if she took a tumble forwards that she wouldn't end up under water. -_-_---------------------------------------------"Death to all who oppose me.":::::x+x+x+:::::Who will break first? You... Or me? Let's find out. :::::+x+x+x:::::---------------------------------------------_-_-
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