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| Fall from Grace | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 20 2008, 08:00 PM (422 Views) | |
| Malceure | Jan 21 2008, 06:59 PM Post #16 |
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Voltaire: "Werewolf, correct?" Voltaire smiled kindly, meanwhile pocketing his knife after wiping the blood away with a hankerchief. |
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| Eon | Jan 21 2008, 07:06 PM Post #17 |
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Name: Savage Age: 10 Species: Werewolf (I'm thanking Mal for this) Personality: The little pup in the pack, was never respected even among his own kind. Likes chicken. Appearance: Savage |
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The day that all nations unite... and Earth's full potential is reached, the day that all nations will work together to make this place a great one... Is not today. - Eric W. A.K.A. Wolf | |
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| SMBEffect | Jan 21 2008, 07:27 PM Post #18 |
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Horoshi soon left the cofee shop, only to see the scene unfold. He tried to stay hidden behind a store close by, but he had a strange feeling that his presence was known. He found it strange that Blane had recovered so easily, but just put his hand up to his mouth after Voltaire unveiled him as a Werewolf. |
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| Kokiriki Kirby | Jan 21 2008, 07:33 PM Post #19 |
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"Yes, I am." Blane replied to Voltaire. "And I see that you are gifted with the Blood Arts, are you not?" Blane then asked. |
 To create one's own fate, to see all mankind kneeling toward one's own presence, to live life with one's very dreams and goals coming true before one's eyes. That is what I yearn for... That is what I dream. | |
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 Dude2000
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Jan 21 2008, 07:46 PM Post #20 |
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Wolfgang, through this whole ordeal, stared at the two strangers, saying nothing. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Twilight Sage | Jan 21 2008, 09:29 PM Post #21 |
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Lycan had also exited, and was standing next to Horoshi. "Seems like a repeating pattern, right?" |
  Top one is by Crash, and the bottom one is by RunawayRed. Thanks to the both of you! | |
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| Malceure | Jan 21 2008, 10:00 PM Post #22 |
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Voltaire: "Indeed." He began following the girl again, and then stopped. Voltaire: "It was nice meeting you..." Voltaire continued on his path, hoping he was not too far behind her. |
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| Kokiriki Kirby | Jan 22 2008, 07:58 PM Post #23 |
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As Voltaire walked away toward the girl he always admired, Blane turned his direction toward Lycan and Horoshi's direction. "You two might as well introduce yourselves, seeing as you already know a little more about me" Blane siad to the two. |
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To create one's own fate, to see all mankind kneeling toward one's own presence, to live life with one's very dreams and goals coming true before one's eyes. That is what I yearn for... That is what I dream. | |
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Dude2000
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Jan 22 2008, 08:00 PM Post #24 |
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Wolfgang now stared at the group of three, not blinking. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Malceure | Jan 22 2008, 08:12 PM Post #25 |
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While the mysterious girl finally returned to her home, Voltaire could do nothing but watch from a distance. He longed to enter along with her, but knew it simply would not be. He had nothing to do but return to the coffee shop, as he always did, and wait for her to arrive once again, just to obtain a look of her. |
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