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03-29-24 03:47 AM
Xeogaming Forums - - Posts by Leviathan
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Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-20-05 11:07 PM, in Your god has arrived. Link
Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith
And I was 'round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game

I stuck around St. Petersberg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the Czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain

I rode a tank
Held a general's rank
When the Blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
What's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah

I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the Gods they made

I shouted out
"Who killed the Kennedys?"
When after all
It was you and me

Let me please introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadors
Who get killed before they reached Bombay

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game

Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint

So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or I'll lay your soul to waste.


I am Leviathan. A decade-long vet of Simming, and a proud member of the ORIGINAL Shin-Ra Inc. Read the lyrics above..learn them..remember them. Perhaps you'll gain a little insight as to your newest member.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-20-05 11:11 PM, in Your Magic Elementals Link
Here's a partial list for you.

Dark,
Light,
Holy,
Unholy,
Lightning,
Earth,
Air,
Ice,
Magma,
Water,
Fire,
Space,
Illusion,
Lunar,
Solar,
Sonic,
Life,
Death,
Dragon (silver, black, white, blue, red, orange, yellow, green, brown, prism, cosmic, gold, grey, "true" dragon),
Prism (a combination of several of the basic elements),
Cosmic,
Ki/Chi,
Force,
Metal,
Nature,
Blood,
Spectral,
Astral,
Ethric,
Stone,
Psion,
Neutral/Grey,
Matter,
Anti/dark-matter,
Thought,
Gravity,
Time,
Chaos.
"Night"

I'm not going to take the time to post opposites, as most should be obvious. Well..save for the "Night" element.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-20-05 11:13 PM, in Your god has arrived. Link
Good?

My uninformed friend...i can say, without a trace of ego, that i am quite possibly the best pure simmer on the internet today. My logic is simple: In ten years, no one has proven me wrong.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 09:57 AM, in Simbattling now adays Link
Let me put it to you this way:

In open style, there is no such thing as an attack that cannot be avoided.

As for people who absolutely refuse to loose...after they dodge 15 of your attacks without so much as a scratch WITHOUT justification...PM a mod and request permission to kill them. It's that simple.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 10:18 AM, in Looking to buy a gun... Link
Jesus...why does EVERYONE want a damned desert eagle?

Head on over to Glock's website. A 9mm Baby Glock won't run you more than around $300. Swap out the barrel and you have one hell of a handgun on your hands.

If you want some SERIOUS stopping power, pick a model 21. There's not much that a .45 round can't go through...and unlike a desert eagle, you'll actually be able to pick the thing up.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 10:21 AM, in Question about RP rules. Link
First, allow me to clarify this. I am in NO WAY insulting your forum. I'm just..a tad confused.

Your rule system..well, to be completely honest, it seems like it was set up to cater to new Simmers only. Most of the things a "newbie" would normally bitch about have been outlawed. Not only that, but there seems to be something of an "unspoken rule" which states that the shorter and less descriptive the post, the better.

So what's going on here?
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 12:45 PM, in Question about RP rules. Link
1: We are -not- pure "rpers". We are "simmers" through and through.

2: The school of simming i am used to states that description = power/effectiveness. Writing a paragraph describing a fireball is a lot more effective than simply stating "fireball". Not to mention the fact that the more descriptive a fight is, the more options a given fighter has. "Slashes at whoever" just isn't going to cut it in a swordfight.

3: It is next to impossible to use a well-developed character in a fight and only post 2-3 paragraphs. It just doesn't work.

As i said..no insult intended..but this is the kind of thing i saw way back when i was starting out. "No teleporting ever..its really cheap" "A doppleganger? Thats cheap" "I'm not going to read six paragraphs in a sim..thats stupid". A proper sim is 60% skill and 40% writing. Personally, i don't think my character has a SINGLE attack i could describe in a single paragraph. He is far too well thought out for that.

I am not just used to "my" board. I've frequented at least a hundred decent RP forums in my time..and roughly 97 of them would frown on a 3 paragraph sim post. It shows a lack of skill and creativity.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 02:10 PM, in Your god has arrived. Link
Eh..i think i'll just challenge your resident Vampire Lord and take the Legendary title for myself.

I'm afraid he's going to find Night's blood significantly more difficult to deal with.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 02:56 PM, in Challenge to Kaijin Link
Well..i do believe it is time for someone to take the Legendary title of yours.

Rules:

Open style (no god-modding or unjustified meta-gaming).
I work. A lot. There will be no time limit on replies (but try to post when you have the time).

Not rules, but things you should know:

You do not have a profile up..so i will not be posting one.
This IS a title bout.
If you use your Vampire character..be aware that "Night"s blood is quite similar. You will find him immune to its acidic properties. And if you think it will be able to counter the magic of the Runic Tongue inscribed on his equipment..well, it will not.
There will be no power limit on this fight..so come prepared.
Night is old. He is strong. He doesn't hold much regard for...anything. If insulting your character is appropriate IC, do NOT take it as an OOC flame.
Now...two tips for you: 1: Using your average elements in this fight is a...bad idea.
2: This intro uses the weakest form of my character. In fact, it is more of a grouping of different beings than "Night". Keep this in mind when attacking, and be aware that he will shed this form shortly.

This is an intro. Thus, it can be as long-winded as i see fit. And it IS long..but i suggest reading through it. Most of the profanities have been edited, if you're the sensitive type.

Basic Info:

Setting: Busy city (LA).
Planet: Earth.
Atmosphere: Electrically charged, but less ambient energy by the second.
Temperature: 47 degrees and falling.
Wind speed: 61 mph SSW and growing.
Time: 7:49 pm pst.

WARNING!!!!!!!!! VERY strong language/violence ahead. Edited for the anally retentive among us, but be aware none-the-less.

New Acoma. A small town 80 miles or so from Los Angeles. The definition of a hole in the mud...a grocery mart, bank, pub, and a dozen scattered homes were all it could claim. For some reason...one that escaped him even then..he had chosen this place.

In Rube's Pub, sitting silently at the bar with arms resting on the stained, pocked counter and shoulders slumped forward, sat a man named Levitireis Drakes. One hand clung weakly to a dirty glass containing what was left of a Black Russian. The fingers of the other tapped rapidly on the counter in growing aggitation. Aside from Rube, who stood casually behind the bar with his eyes glued to the dusty television in the corner, three other men occupied the pub, all sitting at same table, and each undoubtedly on his fifth beer. They weren't typical barflies..instead, leather-clad self-deemed "bad asses" who, as it would seem, had no greater pleasure than making noise.

One of them, a heavy-set man in his forties with an unkempt, ragged beard and knotted ponytail rose unsteadily, nearing flipping the table on it's face before he found his balance. With a drunken swagger he walked over to Levitreis and set a paw-like hand on the mans shoulder.

"Heyeh f@&&ot" he said, his words barely coherent thanks to the slur they carried,

"Wey've been sittin her all dayumed night, and you havin't said hello. Why the fuck not?"

"Get your goddamned hand off me." Levitreis replied, his voice deep, rough.

"Wha you say to me boy?"

Before Levitreis could answer, a voice sounded from behind the counter. It seemed that Rube had managed to pry himself away from the television long enough to notice what was going on.

"Now you listen up, Dave. I told you three last time, real clear...you come in startin' fights in MY bar, and i'll call the fucking cops. You leave the man be, sit back down, and shut the hell up."

"You aint got NO rights to be talkin to me like that. Me and..uhh..my boys are gunna do whatever we want, and you aint got jack about shit to say about it."

"Now, f@&&ot..say hallo to me."

"Dave, i'm warning you.."

"Oh yeah? Then you try'an warn my little friend here."

With a half-cocked smile Dave lifted his dingy leather jacket, revealing the black grip and gleaming silver cyllinder of the .38 revolver tucked into his jeans.

"Al...alright Dave, just calm down..."

"YOU calm down, you piece'a shit." Dave said, then he turned his attention back on Levetreis. Rube, on the other hand, got quiet. He slipped his hand under the bar and starting feeling around for his old Beretta.

"What'ss wrong, f@&&ot...you to good to say hallo? Sittin there with your fancy jacket and....shiny hair..." he said, refering to Levitreis' black suede jacket and the loose, gleaming black hair that hung to the middle of his back.

"Mebbe hes a woman!" one of Dave's buddies called from the table.

"Is that it, f@&&ot? Are'ya a woman?" Dave said, then broke into half-choked laughter.

"Fuck off. was Levitreis' only reply.

"You little..."

Dave, his hand still on Levitreis' shoulder, gave him a hard shove towards the bar. His drink slid out of his hand, gliding across the counter's surface for a second before falling to shatter near Rube's feet. The bartender jumped as if he'd been shot, slamming his hand on the bottom of the countertop.

"Goddamnit!" he mumbled under his breath, then starting fumbling for the Beretta again.

Without a word Levitreis spun the barstool beneath him towards Dave, then drove his black calve-high military boots into the scarred wooden floor to face the man. He had just wanted a drink..he didn't have time for this. He had places to be.

Despite his drunken stupor, the first thing Dave noticed were the sunglasses. The f@&&ot wore black framed oakleys, despite the fact that the pub was lit by nothing more than a few scattered bulbs. He had expected something else...a pretty man with girlish features and dull eyes. Instead, he found a rough, pale, and unnervingly intimidating face looking up into his..and though he couldn't see them, he knew that this man's eyes were far from dull. They would be sharp, he thought...bird's eyes.

"We....well....a tough guy, huh?" Dave said, some of the bravado disappearing from his voice.

"I guess we're gunna havta show you want happens to tough guy fa&&ots. Ain't we boys!"

"Damn straight" one of the men at the table called back. He stood and walked to Levitreis' left. The other sat where he was, apparently to drunk to care.

"Now get the fuck up." Dave said.

It wasn't until Levitreis did that Dave realized that, somewhere in the back of his mind, a thread of fear had creeped in.

Levitreis stood, clad all in black, and looked from side to side. Dave slightly to his right, his friend to the left...and an overly worn pool table straight ahead. He was, for all practical purposes, trapped.

"Fine." he said aloud. He seemed to gaze through Dave as he addressed him,

"Don't fucking move. You're last."

Levitreis turned his attention to the other man...greasy brown hair, flattened nose, and a disgustingly gaudy pendant, gold-plated metal in the shape of a giant R.

The man noticed Levitreis' gaze, his head angled downward towards the pendant.

"Don't like it? Too bad. Besides..lookit you" he said, gesturing towards the simple amulet that hung around Levitreis' neck. Nothing more than a strange hue of gold and an unassuming black stone.

Levitreis didn't reply. Instead, be began walking towards the man. He reached his left hand out, grabbing the pool que that rested against the faded green of the pool table's top.

He let the que slide towards the floor, tightening his grip about seven inchs from it's bottom. He brought it up, put his right hand above his left, and swung.

The blow cought the man in the temple with enough force to shatter the thick wood of the que's base. He was dead before he had time to realize what had happened, the hit snapping his neck and sending him sprawling across the pool table.

Levitreis followed the swing through, pulling his left hand away after the blow. As the que reached his right he he opened his fist and let it fly.

The que, now little more than a splintered shaft of wood, cought the man at the table in his left arm. What was left broke apart on impact, but the force of the throw pushed the long splinters on, through the mans arm and into his chest cavity. He barely had time to gasp before he slumped forward onto the table, blood already trickling from his gaping mouth to pool around his head.

Levitreis turned to his right, only to see a glimpse of a wild, looping punch before it struck.

Dave hadn't seen what had happened..not all of it..but had seen enough to know that he had made a mistake. A big one. He didn't have time to think about it...the force that would have to be behind the swing that took Randy out. Maybe if he had, he would have thought to run.

If he had of been sober, the punch would have connected perfectly..but as it was, it just managed to graze Levitreis' cheek, brushing the sunglasses from his face.

Dave's jaw dropped to the floor. He stumbled back a step, and his mouth started moving rapidly, as if he were trying to form a word. The eyes he saw behind the glasses were not sharp eyes. They wern't birds eyes. They wern't the eyes of anything he knew. His jeans slowly darkened as a stream of urine trickled down his leg.

The eyes that sat within Levitreis' head were ink black. At least, most of them. The irises were dark grey, and the pupils a bright shade of silver. They were anything but the eyes of a man.

"I thought i told you not to move." Levitreis said.

"Wha....wha the fuck...." was all Dave could reply. He clumsily fumbled for the gun tucked away in his pants, pulled it out with a shaking hand, aimed, and fired.

The round cought Levitreis in the left shoulder. It should have knocked him down, but instead he slid back a foot and a half, stopped, and doubled over.

Levitries stood, his lips curled into a savage snarl. His eyes, haunting enough before, were alive with a ghostly blue light. The chairs..tables..even the bar itself began shaking, rumbling together in a low, bass-filled hum.

Dave watched him rise, frozen, unable to fire off another shot.

The static-filled hum continued to grow, reverberating in Dave's chest like the beat of a great drum. He could feel his heart vibrating, almost as if he were being electrocuted.

A flash of blue light filled the bar, it's blinding intenisty masking Levitries's next action. A split second later, the front of Rubes pub ceased to exist.

If Rube had managed to stay conscious, he wouldn't have stayed that way for long. Half of his building was gone, most of it reduced to splinters embedded in the brick walls of the Bank across the street. Mecifully, he had passed out before the initial blast. Dave, however...

What was left of him had joined the shattered remains that now adorned the Bank. His upper torso hung pinned to the wall by the remains of a two-by-four, his face frozen in a permenant expression of undiluted shock.

With a tired, strained sigh Levitreis turned, scouring the floor behind him. After a moment, he bent to retrieve his sunglasses, placed them back over his eyes, and walked towards Dave.

"You couldn't have left me along, could you?"

With that, he turned and looked and the damage.

"You're kidding me...." he said with a mix of surprise and anger. His car, a simple red Civic, was covered by a large slab of plaster and concrete. Naturally, the only vehicle which looked even semi-functional was Daves Harley Fatboy. And he detested Motorcycles.

"Look at what you made me do" he said, turning back to Dave. "You know what? It's fine. It'll be a miracle if your bike makes it half-way to LA..but it's fine." He reached into Daves front pocket, felt around, and pulled out his keys.

Two and a half hours later, he found himself at his destination. He stopped the bike, flipped the kickstand, got off onto the small side street he had rode in on, and looked towards the four-way intersection to his left. In any direction, as far as the eye could see, were people. They crowded the sidewalks..drove past him in any number of vehicles...stood in the windows of the various office buildings that dotted the skyline looking down onto the city. Had he been of different mind, he would have found himself oddly bemused by the fact that most of these people were about to die, and yet they strolled on obliviously. As it was, we was as oblivious as the rest of them. None the less, he couldn't help but stare as they trudged on towards some unknown goal, some pausing to throw him a dismissive glance, most concerned only with their destinations.

[color=gray]None of them will make it home. They will never see their wives or children..their fathers..sisters..friends..lovers..and it will be because of you. You will kill every last one of them, directly or indirectly. All those lives...all that loss...how do you FEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeel...

The voice was like a memory, some long-forgotten thought played out in a low, hissing whisper. Levtreis dismissed it as such...some odd auditory hallucination, meaningless, unimportant...as he always did.

Dusk had fallen on the city, and with it came the wind. Strong, clean, hot as steam. Most undoubted dismissed it as the Santa Anas, even as it grew, intensified to something nearly frightening. And they contined to dismiss it...until the sound of chattering teeth began to drown the roar of the car-lined streets.

The temperature had dropped so suddenly, so intensely, it was almost difficult to realize. From searing heat to bitter cold...and the wind continued to grow unhindered.

Even Levitreis found himself at the mercy of the gale. He ground his heels into the loose asphault, his jacket and hair flung backwards with equal ferocity. He didn't stop to notice that, instead of chilled to the bone, he was growing ever-warmer.

He shifted his gaze upwards, to the orange sun already sitting low in the sky. The once-bright orb was already half gone, swallowed by gathering clouds, ominous, so dark they were almost black. Streaks of lightning tore through the sky, silent yet impossiblely bright, cleaving the air where moments before there was nothing but a light haze of smog.

Well...This will have to do, won't it. With the day i've had, why not. Now where the hell are they.


(Last edited by Leviathan on 07-21-05 06:51 PM)
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 03:52 PM, in Challenge to Kaijin Link
Hmm...

Sorry to have to say this..but your hesitance to participate without following your "rules" makes me think that this will be even less of a challenge than i thought.

Edited to comply with the "rules". Shall you accept now?
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 04:04 PM, in Help!! I want to buy a game online... Link
Try Ebay or Amazon. You should be able to find it at one of them. If not...Gamespot usually sells used PC games (which may not have the Keyboard)

(By the way..if you are young..pick up a prepayed Visa to buy online. Just as good as a credit card)
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 05:08 PM, in Belt owner vs belt owner Link
I suggest something along these lines:

Revamp the belt system. Completely. Use them as actual TITLES rather than just show. You have four main belts. They should reflect a kind of "ladder" system. The better the fighter..the higher the belt.

ANY fighter should be able to challenge for a higher belt. Lightweight should be able to try for middleweight (but not Heavy Weight. They should have to "work their way up" so to speak). If they win..the Lightweight title is up for grabs. Someone can claim it. Someone else can claim it as well. These two combatants fight for the "free" belt, provided someone challenges the original claimer within one week. If not..the belt is all his.


(Last edited by Leviathan on 07-21-05 08:09 PM)
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-21-05 08:34 PM, in Arrival of the CEO, Reno Wingates Hazard. Link
Make that Wrecking Crew 4/4 (or 3/3 since Xi is gone).

I never expected to see YOU here, Reno. Well..then again..i never expected to be here myself, heh.

Hmm...here's an idea. Why don't we up and take their little title belts? Not for any real purpose..just because we can.

I already have dibs on Legendary.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-22-05 12:25 AM, in My heart......... Link
Warning: Entering asshole mode. A radius of 100 feet around this post has been deemed cruel.

If it is because of your diet/lifestyle..it is your own damned fault. If you drop dead tonight..you have no one to blaim but yourself.

If it is because of a stressful situation...fix it. When i was 17 years old my blood pressure would have dropped your average 40 year old man on the spot because of certain "stresses". I solved those problems..bam. Gone.

If it is genetic/disease: Get your ass to the hospital. You shouldn't have stopped to post a message. If you are THAT bad off, you should have been in the emergency room.

If it is either of the latter..all the luck, bub. These things can be fixed easily enough. Calm down..get a script..everything will be fine. If it is the former..stop eating so many damned hamburgers.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-22-05 12:30 AM, in London... Link
37 dead.

You're kidding.

These days, a number like that is hardly news worthy. They killed 37 people...and? How many people died that day from car accidents? ODs? Unrelated murders?

Jesus...37 people is NOTHING. It is insignificant. When they take out 25,000 in one fell swoop, THEN i'll bother taking note. Until then..why are you all so worked up about this?
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-22-05 12:37 AM, in London... Link

Your way of thinking sucks. It's not the number that matters, it's how innocent people were killed..


Innocent people die every day. It is a simple fact of life. Accidents..murders..suicide..disease..we are human. We die. It is one of the things we're especially good at.

And yet you have people who stop to feel bad about THIS sort of thing. Guess what? Chances are, you don't have much time left yourself. Stop wasting it feeling sorrow over an absolutely INSIGNIFICANT loss of life.


(Last edited by Leviathan on 07-22-05 03:38 AM)
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-22-05 12:47 AM, in London... Link
Yes. In the grand scheme of things, a life holds no importantance. Neither do 37. Or a hundred. Or a thousand. There are well over 6 billion people on this planet. We are like..ants. A few losses mean nothing, save for to the families of those lost. And even then..grief means little to those still alive, eh? They usually get over it.

And before you say anything..yes, i have lost people who were very dear to me. I grieved..i moved on. Thus is life.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-23-05 01:38 PM, in Challenge to Kaijin Link
(As i said..i work. A lot. I've clocked over 26 hours in the past two days..so i haven't had much time to post. This will be edited with a reply when time allows..hopefully today)

Kaijin - Just delete this post and re-post when you decided to fight me. That way I won't have to guess when you do.


(Last edited by Kaijin Surohm on 07-27-05 05:13 PM)
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-23-05 01:49 PM, in London... Link
You know..i'm starting to like this Sparda guy.

He's damned close to being right. I find it a waste of emotion (a rather unpleasant emotion at that).

50 people just don't MEAN anything. Someone dies on this planet every..what..3 seconds? More than 50 people died in the time it would take to read this thread.

There is ALWAYS a loss of life. It is one of the immutable facts of existance. Some terrorists killed fifty people..so? Hundreds of thousands die daily. 100,000 - 50 = 99,950. Wow...at least 99 thousand other people died that day.

See my point? People die. Constantly. Yet some people decide to stop and grieve when they see a handful of lives lost on the news. It just makes no damned sense.
Leviathan

Magician








Since: 07-20-05
From: The 217th layer of hell. Quite temperate actually.

Since last post: 5301 days
Last activity: 5213 days
Posted on 07-23-05 02:09 PM, in Sword fighting? Link
My stepbrother and i used to every now and again, using Bokken. We both have some light training (basic iiado myself), and we're both rather good.

Granted, we're not talking about just swinging a few sticks around. I'm 20, he's 26, and we've both been known to deal out some rather serious hits.
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Xeogaming Forums - - Posts by Leviathan



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