Sooner

Blue_fire_Domination

Purple_fire_control

WHOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!

That is awesome.

I am TOTALLY stealing that recipe.

Part 6 of Homecoming is posted in RP.

Sable Murphy
Shades of Vengeance base

Sable was shocked out of her near panic by the sight of the prisoner. The tall brunette with wide blue eyes - that was just as her file said. But her body wasn’t slender, it was emaciated. The pretty face from the pictures was marked not just with scars, not just the delicate nose now crooked, but with a dark haunted look about the eyes. In her photos, she seem brash and courageous, but this woman was backed into the wall, and her wide eyes darted fearfully about the tiny room. She kept glancing at Sable’s crab arms waving over her shoulders, and Sable wished - not for the first time - her weapons system was less obtrusive.

“I’m here to help you,” Sable said urgently. “Come with me, quickly.”

The prisoner’s eyes widened and Sable could see an indigo swirling deep within them. She swung her head back and forth in tiny arcs of denial.

To her core, and despite training to the contrary, Sable was convinced she could never be as broken as this hero. She felt a disgusted sneer cross her face, and wiped it away. She took three long strides into the tiny cell and grabbed the prisoner by a bony wrist. When the woman cried out fearfully, Sable let out an angry oath. She shifted her grip, clutching the narrow shoulders and shaking the ‘hero.’ “I don’t have time for this, you stupid little [censored]! If I wanted to hurt you, I’d BE hurting you. If I wanted to kill you, you’d BE dead. I’m trying to help you, but I need you to MOVE!” She yanked the terrified woman off the wall. “Blast this control panel!” Sable ordered, pointing to the keypad on the inside of the cell. The prisoner shuddered and shook her head, making no effort to comply. Dammit! Sable cursed silently to herself. It had to appear that the prisoner could have gotten out on her own. With the red light off, a Kheld should have had the power to blast her way out. This one... seemed completely helpless.

Sable glanced around the room and finally jumped onto the thin cot. She landed on it hard, three times, stomping down with her uniform boots before the cot broke apart under her. The prisoner wailed and darted back to cower in a corner of the cell, but Sable ignored her as she picked up a leg from the cot and used it to bash open the control panel. She ripped the wires out and demolished everything she could.

When the scene was staged as well as she could manage, Sable grabbed the prisoner by the narrow wrist and dragged her out of the cell. She dug through the neatly folded clothes recovered from prisoners over the years until she found a shirt, pants and shoes that should fit. These would blend in much better than the plain grey pajamas the prisoner wore. “Put these on, quickly!” she urged, but when Keely just stood there staring, she snapped, “I am NOT going to dress you! If you can’t help yourself that much, you’re going right back in that cell to rot!”

Keely shook her head at that, took the clothing and began to shakily dress herself. Sable finally began to hope that it might actually work. Sable turned back to the shelves and searched quickly through a stack of confiscated ID cards before she found one that might work. She tucked the card inside her uniform.

When Keely was dressed, Sable planted a wide brimmed hat over her brunette hair and instructed, “Keep your head down. And MOVE.”

Sable led the prisoner on a round-about course of the Shades of Vengeance base. The short circuit she’d engineered had taken out some, but not all, of the security cameras, and she fervently hoped she remembered accurately which ones.

Sable breathed a sigh of relief when they made it safely to the teleport room. She took the warshade by the shoulders again. “Look at me,” she instructed. Those haunted blue eyes lifted and met hers. “You must get this message to the Ghosts. Tell them that UPS 2.2 is the target, NOT Glacius9.” She repeated herself, staring intently into those eyes, “UPS is the target. Tell them there is a spy in the Ghosts who goes by the name “Tailor.” Tell them that but do not tell anyone but Cherished that I helped you. Tell Cherished this, ‘we were his cherished ones.’ Do you have it?”

Keely was silent for a long moment, then she spoke, “UPS is the target, not Glacius. There is a spy named “Tailor” among the Ghosts. Tell Cherished, ‘we were his cherished ones. Tell no one but her that you helped me.”

Sable punched in the code that set the teleporter for Sharkhead. “Keep your head down, act like you belong here. Go straight to the helo. WALK to the helo, do not show yourself to be a warshade in the Rogue Isles!” Sable pulled out the ID card that she’d taken from the shelf in the basement. It would pass for a cursory inspection, but not anything more. “Flash this at the pilot. The helo will take you to Siren’s Call. Then fly high and fast to the hero base there and call the Ghosts. Move fast. You have to get this message delivered.” Keely nodded, clutching her skinny arms across her body. Sable was still in shock at what she was doing. She cleared her throat. “Good luck to you.”

Keely looked up again, her blue eyes shining. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Sable shook her head. “Just go!” She activated the pad and Keely vanished.

Sable gave herself one moment to shudder with reaction at the risk she’d just taken, and then ran to her room. She shed her arachnos uniform quickly, and grabbed her comfortably worn camo pants. She was still pulling on her clothing as she ran from her room. She raced to the meeting hall and paused to try to get her breathing under control before pulling the door open and slipping in. She tried to blend into the shadows as Razor paced the stage.

“There is no divide in your allegiance!” he declared. “We are not Arachnos and Shades. You are Shades first. You will follow where we lead. The world is either ‘us’ or ‘them.’ If you are not one of us, you are an obstacle in our way!”

Sable pressed herself back into the wall, hoping desperately that no one noticed her tardiness. She scanned the crowd, but all eyes were locked on Razor. All eyes but one pair. She lifted her head toward the front of the crowd and saw that Black 6 was looking directly at her. From across the room their eyes met, and he gave her just the slightest nod to let her know that he had indeed marked her arrival. Her heart sank.

“Tomorrow, we make our move. Tomorrow we will cut the heart out of the Ghosts!”

[ QUOTE ]
It's more than just Nintendo.

I see a Master Chief, A Sonic stage, A Katamari, and I'm pretty sure that Church in the top left is a nod to Left 4 Dead.

[/ QUOTE ]

If you mean the one at the top right, in the graveyard, I'm pretty sure you're right.

The pixelated asian head is the Brain Age guy.

That made my brain hurt.

Part 5 of Homecoming is posted.

Ebony Rose
Shades of Vengeance Base

Razor 6 finished outlining his plan for the meeting that evening, the Shades, and the future world he would remake as Rose listened and nodded. She really had no interest in ruling the world or in forcefully taking it over, but for now, their plans overlapped. When and if their plans diverged... well... then she would be forced to make a painful decision.

“And I will accept no excuses for a Shade missing this meeting,” he finished.

Rose nodded. “We have already spread the word. Every Shade knows.”

Razor stood, but paused on his way to the door. “Rose, would you prefer if I eliminated the warshade? Would it be easier for you?”

Rose couldn’t hide her surprise. It wouldn’t have occurred to Shattered that killing the prisoner would bother her, and she suddenly wondered whose life had been stolen to bring Razor into existence. She smiled at him. “Thank you, but no. I captured her, I sent her here.” She didn’t say that she wanted to be sure that the prisoner’s death was easier than her captivity had been. “I’ll take responsibility for eliminating her.” She stood. “After the meeting tonight. I’ll take care of it.”


Conall Cian
Shade of Vengeance base

Conall settled his eight foot tall frame into a chair near the front of the Shade’s great meeting hall. He had arrived early, and, behind his carefully casual demeanor, was observing everything. He noted that Rose had set up four chairs on the dias, but Razor took one of them away. He noted that the Soldiers of Arachnos who were members of the Shades filed in wearing civilian clothes rather than their Arachnos uniforms and that they sat together up front and to the right. He wondered what message Arachnos would take from their attire. He pursed his lips when Razor and Rose stepped up to the dias and settled into the waiting chairs, and then Death Shrowd sat as well, to Rose’s right. Conall nodded. That meant that Razor had taken away the chair that Rose had set out for the absent Cowboy Nightmare. What that meant... he didn’t know.

The last few people crept in, and Conall saw that Black 6 was watching them, making note of who arrived late. The room fell silent as the leaders of the Shades of Vengeance sat motionless on the dias.

The silence grew heavy, broken not even by the creak of a chair. The entire group waited, frozen, to learn what had summoned them all.

Rose stood and strode gracefully to the lectern. She was as always sleek and slender, dressed in simple black. Her cybernetic prosthesis rested on the lectern with the fingers curled around the edge while she gestured with her flesh right arm.

“We are all here for different reasons. We are here in the Rogue Isles because we were forced here, or because we saw opportunity, or because this is where we were born and raised. We joined the Shades because we thought our strengths complemented each other, or because we shared similar goals, or because it was where we landed when fate was through with us.” She stepped away from the lectern then, calm and confident. She stood tall and proud in front of the crowd of powerful villains, secure in her power over them. As she spoke, Conall looked to the dias behind her. Death Shrowd’s eyes were fastened on Rose’s slim figure, but Razor looked out into the crowd. His pale eyes moved from person to person, marking them, and then they found Conall. A spark of energy passed invisibly between them, and then Razor’s moved on. Conall shifted, filled with a sudden unease.

Rose moved back to the lectern, and gestured to Razor, “Razor 6 has called you all here to hear his words, to learn the course we will be following. Razor?” Rose waited until Razor took the lectern, then faded back to take her seat.

Where Rose had commanded the attention of the room with quiet strength and confidence, Razor dominated the attention of everyone there with the sheer force of his personality. He grabbed the lectern in both hands and put it aside as if he would tolerate no obstacles, no barriers. He paced the edge of the dias like a caged lion, powerful and impatient.

“Politics is a game for those who seek to gain power,” he declared. “It is played by those who do not have the strength or the will to grab that power and make it theirs. Politics is a necessary evil in Grandville, in the stronghold of Recluse. We have no choice, as yet, but to play their game.”

He stopped pacing and stared out, the challenge plain on his face, “But I will not tolerate it within the ranks of the Shades!”


Sable Murphy
Shades of Vengeance base

Sable was in a near panic as she arrived in the entrance to the Shade’s base. She was late to Razor’s meeting. The meeting he had declared everyone would attend. She was late, and her late arrival would weaken his message the way her presence with her fellow soldiers would have strengthened it.

Fortunately, she truly had gotten off duty late. Unfortunately, it was because she was so distracted trying to decide what to do. She knew how important her information would be to her sister, but she had no idea how to get it out in time. No idea at all.

Sable sprinted down the long hallway. Razor had specified they would be dressed as civilians for this meeting, in order to reinforce his point, and that meant she would be even more late having to change. The hallways were utterly deserted... a condition she’d never seen before and was quite certain she’d never see again. Every member of the Shades was in that meeting.

And at that moment, she ran past the archway that lead down to the basement. The idea that occurred to her so startled her she nearly tripped and fell. She turned back to the basement, a knot of fear pulling tight in her belly. She knew about the prisoners down there, and knew that one of them was a Ghost. She had not even considered the possibility of trying to get her out, it would have been impossible. But this... this moment when there was no one around... this moment could get her killed horribly. This moment could earn her a spot in one of those cells. But this moment could also solve more than one of her problems.

Sable drifted quietly down the steps. She knew where all the surveillance cameras were in the base, and a plan was quickly coming together. She stepped down into the place that had been the sanctum of a man even his friends had called an evil madman. The items that lined the wall were enough to terrify the most courageous, and that was just the ones she could guess at how they worked. A voice in her head began to tell her over and over again that she was being a fool.

She made her way along the wall to an elaborate electrical box. Several heavy cables fed in and out of it. One of her crab arms stretched over her shoulder and opened the box. Another arm carefully scratched the insulation away from several of the wires. She checked her handiwork carefully, and thought it could pass for natural damage. Then, gingerly, she pushed two of the bare wires together. An enormous blue spark flew, and the lights went out in the basement. Sable smiled.


Keely
Shades of Vengeance base

Keely tossed on the narrow cot. It was definitely nicer not to live in constant terror, not to be starving and thirsty and to spend every moment just trying to heal from one beating before the next occurred. Yes... it was better, but now she endured a new torture: boredom. Sometimes she could lose herself in fantasy, sometimes she could dream away her hours. She lay on her cot, her blanket pulled up over her head, trying to will herself back to sleep, but sleep would not come.

She closed her eyes tight and focused on the last dream she remembered. It had been nice, and she would like to go back to it.

Her eyes flew open suddenly as something changed. The light. There was something wrong with the light. And then she leapt to her feet as she realized that horrible red light was gone. The light that kept her from being Kheldian. It was gone. She reached for her Kheldian half in her mind, but the being that had bonded with her, had been her closest companion, was broken. It was insane, and it didn’t trust the change. Keely needed it to come forward, they both needed so badly for the energy being to be there, but it hid in the back of her head.

And then the door opened.

We got in touch. Thanks, Tricky!

Tricky... I emailed her, and she never responded. Is there a better way to get in touch?

Stale... if it does happen PLEASE have it reviewed.

We dabble occasionally in RP.

Kinda like dipping your toes in that cool running stream. It's nice and all.. but then you put your shoes and socks back on and go back to what you were doing before.

Hmmm.... I don't have any trouble.

I happened across a very interesting article today.

Read and discuss.

EDIT: Try this link, then: Read me instead?

Part 4 of Homecoming is posted in RP.

Conall Cian
King’s Row

Conall crouched among the ruins of the tiny apartment. Jonnie the bartender must have been bringing in more than $1000 a night, but she was living well beneath her means. Perhaps she’d had an early retirement planned.

He glanced at the skinny body nearby, with her bruises and blood and broken limbs, and shook his own head sadly. He spread his clawed hands wide and flexed his fingers to see the dim light glint off the fresh blood still shiny on his skin. He raised one hand to his face and inhaled deeply. His nose wrinkled and he flinched back from the odor. This was not innocent blood. His primal urge to taste the blood vanished and with a wince of disgust he hastily cleaned every drop of blood off his hands. There was a code for information brokers, and this human had violated it. People paid her well to see that their information was passed safely and discretely, and she was taking it and selling it to other parties.

He finished his thorough search, and while he’d found stacks of cash stashed throughout, he had found no files of stolen information. Either she kept it elsewhere, or she carried it all in that delicate head. Unfortunately, the human had been more fragile than he’d anticipated and had died before she gave up the information he wanted from her. He resumed his human form, tucked the cash into the pockets of his trenchcoat and called a glowing portal to leave the apartment and the body behind.

He made one stop on his way back to the base: Haven House. He placed the cash in the hands of Westin Phipps, with the instructions: “Continue your good works.”

Then he changed into his demon form and flew back to the base on leathery wings, considering his place within the Shades and how best to go about advancing to the power he deserved. Just before reaching the glowing portal, he turned, and made his way to Pocket D instead. It might be interesting to see who missed Jonnie the bartender.


Sable Murphy
Shades of Vengeance

Shattered Ice9 had lived well, but Razor 6 lived a more spartan life. He had made the spacious quarters his own by blocking off a small space for his bed and personal belongings and modified the rest into a private lounge for his fellow soldiers. They typically gathered there nightly. On this evening, Sable sat next to Razor at the table while Black 6 hunkered down against the wall nearby and Anhedonia lounged on the couch. Last Lullaby and Operative Rogue sat on the floor in front of the cough, while a dozen others sat watching TV, playing cards, or, in at least one case, napping.

Razor 6 leaned back and finished off his beer. He sat the bottle down and turned to Sable with a grin playing around the corners of his mouth. Sable had never known Shattered Ice9, or Ice9 before that, but she’d been told the resemblance was remarkable. His pale blue eyes fastened on hers as he announced, as if starting a funny joke, “My tailor tells me we have a traitor in the Shades.”

Anhedonia sat up suddenly, and Black 6 rose to his feet, but Sable froze, feeling very much like a small animal caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

Before Sable could even begin to formulate an answer, Anhedonia leaned onto the table, “Your “tailor?” What are you talking about?”

Black 6 took two steps forward, “Who? Who is the traitor?”

Razor chuckled as he got to his feet and claimed another beer. He took his time opening it and settling back into his seat. “My eyes and ears inside the Ghosts Reborn. He goes by the code name ‘Tailor.’ And he doesn’t know who, only that the Ghosts have information he didn’t give them. Of course, he doesn’t know everything I know, either.” He actually winked at Sable as he took a long sip from the bottle.

Anhedonia sank thoughtfully into one of the empty chairs at the table. “So, Razor... is there a spy or not, then?”

By mutual agreement, Sable’s relationship to Cherished was known only to her and Razor. She carefully cultivated for Razor’s benefit the story that she despised her sister and hated her for leaving the rest of her family behind. Razor was a frightfully cunning man, but his own hatred for the heroes of Paragon City and the Ghosts Reborn in particular did make for a few blind spots. He had no difficultly believing that she would turn against her own family. Or so she’d thought. Now... she wondered if he were about to turn on her. If he ever became suspicious of her, she knew she’d wish for death long before she ever died. So, she waited in silence for his answer to Anhedonia’s question.

“There is a source of information,” he answered. “A source cultivated and controlled by me. A pair actually. One within the Ghosts, one in contact with the Ghosts, and both feeding them information I wish them to have.”

Black 6 smiled and dropped back to lean against the wall, but Anhedonia leaned forward onto her elbows. Her chestnut hair was held back in a tail and narrow tendrils framed a delicate face. Her pale brown eyes held Razor’s as she asked, “What sort of information are you feeding them, Razor? About the Shades? About Arachnos?”

“Are you questioning the way I lead the Shades, Phantom?” Razor asked, using the nickname given her by their unit.

Sable admired Anhedonia’s calm, casual smile in response to Razor’s challenge. She hoped by the time she finished navigating her way through the complicated politics of Arachnos and the Shades she could play it as well as the slender Widow did. “I’m interested in your game. I like the way you play it.”

Flattery was always a good strategy with Razor. He drank again and sat his beer down with a thump. “The Shades have been trying and failing to take out UPS for years now. Whenever we target him, however, we can’t get to him. But... when someone else is the target, who is the first man to put himself in the way?”

Anhedonia merely arched a brow, but Sable found her voice and leaned forward, “UPS 2.2. He is the Ghosts’s protector and shield.”

“Indeed,” Razor said with a deep chuckle. “He is forever putting himself in harm’s way for others. This time, he knows we have a deadly weapon pointed at Glacius9,” a sneer crossed his face at the hero’s name, and Sable knew that he was feeling Shattered’s memories at that moment. “He knows it, and he will take that hit for Glacius. And when he is hit by that weapon, only then will he learn that there is no super quantum rifle. It is a weapon designed to turn his own nanites against him. He will be helpless, being destroyed from the inside, and after just a few moments of that, my crushing his head with my mace will be a mercy.”

Anhedonia and Black 6 laughed, and Sable managed to laugh as well.

Razor took another long drink, and then his jovial attitude changed. “Tomorrow night I want a meeting with every single Shade. It is time our people understood who is in charge.” He stood, and just like that changed from friend and companion to commander. “Make sure that everyone is present and accounted for. There will be no excuses. Everyone will be in that hall tomorrow night.”

The Soldiers of Arachnos, loyal to each other before anyone else, nodded. Only Sable had a new loyalty, and it conflicted painfully within her. The Soldiers had been her only family, and then the Shades had become part of that family. Then... she found her sister. And now she wasn’t sure where her loyalty fell. Black 6, Anhedonia, and Sable filed out of Razor’s room. Black turned to the left towards his room, and Anhedonia toward the right. But the widow paused when she saw Sable wasn’t following.

“I’m... not sleepy,” Sable said.

“We have an early day tomorrow,” Anhedonia cautioned, and, like Razor, she had made the sudden switch from friend to superior. But, Sable noted, there was no order there, just a caution.

“Yes,” Sable nodded. “I won’t be long. I’ll just go out for a little while to clear my head.”

Anhedonia nodded once. “Alright then. I’ll make sure there’s an extra cup of coffee for you in the morning.”

Sable left the base and made a beeline for Pocket D. She had to pass the word on to Cherished as soon as possible, but she couldn’t think of a better way than Jonnie. It was late, and the club was noisy and busy. Sable made her way through the crowd, but paused when saw a strange man working behind Jonnie’s usual bar. She turned in place, but didn’t see Jonnie at any of the other counters. She snagged a passing server by the sleeve, “Hey... where’s Jonnie?”

The harried young man shook his head. “She was a no-call, no-show. And I’ve got no clue why. But we’re short handed as it is, and it wasn’t a good night for her to pull this kinda crap.

“Dammit!” Sable cursed, but let the young man move on. She made her way to Jonnie’s usual bar and leaned on the counter.

“Help ya?” the bartender asked after just a few moments.

Sable looked up at him, and carefully hid her swirling emotions behind a bland face, “Just give me whatever you’ve got on tap, please.”

“Sure thing,” he said, and moved away to fill her order.

A low drawling voice spoke from behind her left shoulder, “Come here often?” The voice dripped with a derisive sneer, and she turned to see Conall Cian sliding onto the barstool next to hers. How a man that enormous could move so quietly she’d never understood.

She didn’t know if there was an actual accusation in his greeting, or if she was becoming so paranoid she heard accusations in the most innocent of questions. She took him literally and answered truthfully, “More nights than not, ya. I like the D.”

“And the bartender that normally works here? Do you like her?”

Sable frowned back into the dark eyes, quite certain there was suspicion in that question. So she answered him with more honesty, even if it wasn’t full and complete. “Jonnie? Sure. She’s funny. I do like her. I wonder where she is tonight?”

Conall stared at her long enough to make her uncomfortable, but she refused to squirm. She looked back calmly, until the bartender arrived with her beer, then used that excuse to turn away.

The big man laughed once, then picked up his own drink and rose from the barstool. “Perhaps she outlived her usefulness,” he said. He laughed once more and sauntered away.

Sable resisted the urge to shiver with the sudden chill that shot up her back, and enjoyed her single beer before returning to the base and spending the night staring at the ceiling, trying to think of some way to get her message to Cherished.


Cherished
Ghosts of Vengeance Base

Cherished was lost in her own thoughts as she walked into the common room of the base. Still no world from Sable, and Cherished was becoming ever more worried about her sister. She was startled out of her thoughts by the high pitched teasing voice of Celestial Nav. The blue-haired woman was leaning over UPS and laughing as she said, “But you don’t even OWN the suit any more!”

“True,” UPS agreed patiently, “But I wore it when I registered with Hero Corp.”

Ici Cold was seated with her legs folded underneath nearby. “It doesn’t make any sense! People wonder if you’re a delivery guy!”

UPS just fixed the young hero with a dark look as Nav jumped in again, “You’re named after a suit you don’t wear anymore!”

Cherished frowned in confusion as she looked around the room of more experienced heroes. “I don’t understand.”

Ici stood and stretched. “Before UPS got all nanity, he wore an armor suit. Urban something Suit, version 2.2... or something.”

“Urban Pacification System,” UPS murmured.

“So.... “ Celestial Nav jumped in. “When he registered as a hero, he thought that just registering the name of the suit was the way to go “UPS 2.2"

UPS pushed to his feet. “Yes, it’s my registered name. No, it doesn’t make sense. What would you suggest I do?”

In near unison Nav and Ici sang out, “CHANGE it!”

He raised his hands in question, “To what?”

The two women fell silent, and then Ahren, sitting in a soft chair in a corner, rose to his feet. He tucked his finger inside his copy of Dio Cassius, and spoke quietly. “Old friend, your name is ‘Vir.’”

UPS looked puzzled as he asked, “What does ‘Vir’ mean?”

Ahren smiled and answered, “It’s who you are.”

UPS was silent for a long moment, then he nodded. “Alright.” He turned to Celestial Nav, “I’m headed to City Hall. But you’re coming along, since you’re paying for the name change!”

Nav laughed and the two heroes left the base together.

While I was writing this story, in which UPS 2.2 plays a major role, my old, dear friend Ice9 announced his intention to change UPS’s name. It seemed like a good idea at the time to introduce that name change in this story. Turns out... it was not such a good idea. I already have a huge cast, and suddenly changing a character’s name just complicates things. Making it even more complex is the fact that several of the characters don’t KNOW about the name change, not to mention an entire other dimension where he died before that name change happened.... it became complex and cumbersome rather quickly. I’m proceeding with it as originally written, but I will plan to break in with editorial comments like this one occasionally just to remind people who is who and what is what. - Sooner

Happy Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

Thanks. Now I won't be able to sleep tonight.

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
The Raiders hate the Aggies with a fervent passion.

[/ QUOTE ]

fix'd.

[/ QUOTE ]

Wait..are you saying you DON'T hate the longhorns? That is unacceptable. Go away, and don't come back until you've redeemed yourself....

[/ QUOTE ]

Oh, we hate the Longhorns, too. But every Texas university hates the Aggies.

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They are a little unique, huh.

But as long as you hate the longhorns.. you are acceptable.

*nods*

Amazing, Tricky.. those are amazing.

[ QUOTE ]
*tries hard not to ask*

I CAN'T RESIST!!! *asks*

[/ QUOTE ]

If you say his name... he may return. And... I'm just not sure we can survive that again.. the memories are... just... too.... painful...

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
The Raiders hate the Aggies with a fervent passion.

[/ QUOTE ]

fix'd.

[/ QUOTE ]

Wait..are you saying you DON'T hate the longhorns? That is unacceptable. Go away, and don't come back until you've redeemed yourself....

...