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The Gelbaron Saga; The Original Story
Topic Started: Dec 23 2008, 05:46 AM (6,473 Views)
Dark Jack
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The Phantom Poster
Much as Gerald had expected, events unfolded fast now that the fight had begun, and everyone seemed ready to fight, despite that Gerald thought that the odds were slightly in his favor for once. But it appeared that he had greatly underestimated the disadvantages that Mercinus and his girlfriend had, since first that blasted sister to the dead guy summoned up a spell of so massive power that it eliminated several of Gerald's minions, as well as almost put Gerald in a daze as he was overwhelmed with the sense of an extreme amount of mana. And then the mercenary proved of still being capable to fight by smiting a few undead servants, before he had a little speech of his own, wherein he introduced himself as 'Mercinus Greyback, mercenary of the Beacon of Hope, and Champion of the Destruction'. His titles meant little to Gerald, of course, since he had heard little of the events going on outside of the Werepyre Mountains since he had been banished there by the hateful mobs with their pitchforks and torches. Gerald had heard but faint echoes of the Destruction, and nothing at all about anything called Beacon of Hope... but Mercinus Greyback still sounded awfully familiar, as if someone had mentioned it to him before, that he was someone important...

So deeply lost in thought was Gerald that he did not realize that one of the members of the group, one that had kept in the background until now, threw a dagger at him, until it was too late for him to dodge. And although the realization of the fact that his face was about to be broken by a flying knife was quite surprising, it was nothing compared to the astonishment of once Gerald first realized that he could not move at all - and then he simply moved, against his will and faster than he had thought physically possible, out of the way of the dagger.
That was close, Gerald admitted to himself while he sent his silent thanks to whatever force had saved him from having to replace his original skull. He did figure that he would be the main target at the moment, though, so he had better protect himself... fortunately, Gerald had a piece of equipment that could do that, and much, much more.

With a thought, Gerald sent the remains of mana that was inside of him into the ring around his finger, and bending to his will, the malachite on it first glowed in a bluish green before it started expanding... and expanding even more. Before everyone's eyes, the malachite started growing and spreading out across the surface of Gerald's bones and armor, filling out the space between his ribs, reinforcing his fragile joints and encasing him completely with the gemstone, like an armor in the brightest green. The malachite even stretched above his head, like the legs of a spider, and entangled itself with his lich-crown in order to hold it in place. The malachite surrounded him entirely, and for once, Gerald felt lucky that he was of the undead, because if he had been alive, he would have been suffocated.

More or less completely drained of energy, Gerald allowed himself to relax once he had turned the ring into a powerful armor and he once again felt some measure of safety. His Morphshell was nearly impenetrable, so it should at least provide him with some time to try to regenerate some of the mana he had used up...
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Shienvien
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I want, I can, I do
Mercinus. The man addressed him as a lizard man. Had dared to. Had mistaken? Bowed to him. Only slightly. But did.
"Then I must apologize, Arechiarnaw the Changer. I was a bit rash with my mind, and not had a chance to know you a little better. I..."
He gave a nod. He was not. It was before. Had been before Even before Jey attacked. Now he was there. Standing. Just standing. Nothing more. Not his fight. Lich'es. Not Arech's. He stood. Not his task. Not for him. He won't move. Unless it becomes. Becomes his. His task. His fight. Somehow. Now. Not his business.

A flash. In air. A single flash in air. But still a dagger. A dagger? His head turned. Turned to the direction. The direction the dagger had came from. It had not hit. Magic. But not Gerald's. Telekinesis. Hidden. Elf. Dark elf. Not the dagger. Dagger? He hadn't turned his head. Still looking. To from where the dagger had came from. Changing elf. Changing with will. Will. Unlike his changes. Not spontaneous. Sneaking. Coming closer. To the lich. Hers had been the dagger. She had thrown it. Lich didn't see. Before she threw. Not fair. Not fair to attack hidden. Not fair to attack one already fighting. No. "They have betrayed me... Can't... No..." The words? His not his? Didn't matter. No attacking. Not like that. He won't let. Won't let the two-sworded elf to attack. No. He won't.

He lowered himself to the ground and leapt, flying neatly over the heads of those who separated him from the changer-elf, landing in front of her.
"Don't. Won't let. No attack." His eyes were fixed on the elf but he made no sign of trying to attack. He merely stood. Stood between her and the lich. Waiting. Watching. Doing nothing else. But standing. Standing again. Only in different place. Just standing. Nothing more. Not even threatening. Not threatening to kill. Not to harm. Not to attack.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Gerald River. I have fought hundreds of Werepyres, and defeated all of those who challenged me. One undead army is not going to affect that difference at all."
Lots of words. Empty words. Words always were. Words like that. What had been. Counted what is. What is now. At the moment. At present time. Nothing more. Nothing. But now. Tasks. Need to do. Name. I. Nothing more. Nothing more counted. Strong. Yes. But how strong? Not too strong. Strong. Always could be stronger. More powerful. Not the strongest. No-one was. No one. At all. There was no the one who was strongest. No-one. Nowhere.
"I am Mercinus Greyback, mercenary of the Beacon of Hope, and Champion of the Destruction, and I accept your challenge, Gerald River."
Challenge. Titles. Only more empty words. Titles were empty. Always. He never had titles. Ever. He didn't need those. At all.

Malachite? Lich's spell. Some kind of armor. He knew it. But didn't remember. Remember from where. Despite of remembering everything. Every single detail. Of everything. Different. Changes. There were changes. Had been changes. A lot of those.
His body started growing wings again. Wings? Wings were always good. His body was quite heavy. Lightweight. But still heavy. Relatively. Light runner. Or heavy flier. Not a piece of paper. The one who flied. Heavy being who flied. Or light one who ran. it was the same. Any heavier couldn't fly. He still needed the changes to continue. He needed very strong wings. To fly. To rip himself off the ground. Powerful wings. Changes continued.
A thought can create a world, but only a word written down can ensure its existence.

-When I am physically capable of doing something it doesn't mean I can do it. When I can, it doesn't mean that I should. When I should, it doesn't mean that I must. When I must, it doesn't mean that I will.
-I might not always know where I currently am, but I am never lost. I know in which direction my destination lies.
-There is no faith in knowing. I prefer to know, as only in this way can I be certain in my decisions.
-The more people you ask a question the higher the chance that at least one of them is right.
-Make me walk on walls, don't force me to dance according to others' will.
-I agree that life can be depressing at times. I just choose to ignore it.
-I don't figure over possibilities. I want, I can, I do.


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Teslyn
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a fleeting presence
Galangdei glinted in the sun as it lowered slowly, pointed edge aimed at the ground, mimicing her playmate's Galangdei, and Jey tilted her head, eying Merc-mercsomething curiously. He was so odd - clearly, he didn't understand the rules of the game. There was only one rule, really, and he didn't get it - such a serious expression on his face, a mixture of of of and Jey didn't really care but he was so serious that --

"Silly Merc-mercsomething! Nobody's going to beatenbeaten -- 'course not easily but we're playing -playing dance, Meryc calls it dancing on an edge -- first one to fall loses but it's not a a beaten game -- just a game and I want to play. Too serious though - you're farrrrrrr too serious, Merc-mercsomething. Smile." Jey's own smile widened in demonstration, and she laughed to prove that it was a fun game. "See?"

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Wyrmling
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RP-Crazy @_@
Alyre smiled grimly as her dagger flashed towards the lich's surprised, or at least she assumed he was surprised... it was hard to tell, face. Then she bit back a curse as he was suddenly whisked out of the way, seemingly by some invisible force. The elf whipped her head around and glared at the dark elf, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. He looked like he was focusing on something... perhaps a spell that he was casting. "I guess my request that you not stab us in the back was ignored, dark elf. Do you really want me to fight you now? Because you are helping our enemy, and if you do not stop, you will leave me no choice but to cut you down."

Hearing a noise behind her, Alyre turned to look at the changer... which had just landed in her immediate vicinity. Her eyes flashed with anger and determination. Neither the changer, Arechiarnaw, it called itself, nor the dark elf looked to be interested in doing her any immediate bodily harm. But both of them seemed intent on preventing her from attacking the lich, and that meant that she would have to fight them eventually. And if she had to fight them both at once, the odds could be very much stacked against her. Her golden eyes flashed and hardened on the changer's wavering form: it had now gained a pair of wings, and was changing to become lighter. Fighting such an unpredictable opponent could be a good thing... or a bad one. Alyre just hoped that in the battle that was probably going to ensue, the changes would disadvantage her enemy more than it would her.

"It seems that the lich has no shortage of allies to stand at his side... or in front of him, as it appears. I have no quarrel with you, Arechiarnaw, but if you persist in the defense of that undead creature then I will have to fight you. And that is something I do not want to do, because one of use would undoubtedly become injured." Whipping her head back around, the small elf backed slightly to the side so that she could view both of her opponents at the same time. "But you however... dark elf, you I would not regret having to fight. Not only have you proved yourself to be in league with our enemy, but you have possibly cost me a fine throwing dagger. If I am not able to find it again, the cost shall be on your head."
Edited by Wyrmling, Mar 16 2009, 07:53 PM.
"From the tiny egg the great wyrm grows." -Kobold Preverb, D&D Draconomicon
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Shienvien
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I want, I can, I do
"It seems that the lich has no shortage of allies to stand at his side... or in front of him, as it appears. I have no quarrel with you, Arechiarnaw, but if you persist in the defense of that undead creature then I will have to fight you. And that is something I do not want to do, because one of use would undoubtedly become injured."
"Heal fast. While changing. I, Arech. Crowned lich. Can't kill. Impossible. I?" Arech seemed to be thinking for a second. "You think? Can kill me? Maybe not? Don't want. Won't attack. Only defend. Can't kill. Anyway. Why to try? Questions. Answers. Have to defend. Don't ask. No questioning. Have to defend. No orders. Don't listen to. But still have to..." His eyes followed the elf as she moved to the side but he himself didn't move. Not now.
"Can't explain... Not my kind. You aren't. Remember?" The Changer didn't ask the last question from the elf, so it seemed. "Changer elf. Not my kind. Not just changer. Want. Have to. Impossible not to? They can. Want. Not do. How? Cease to be. Soon cease to be. Like that. A Something? Death. Worse? A Something. Less than Nothing. Yes. Should not be. No."

He gave a nod to himself, staring right through the elf in front of him for a moment, before he lifted his head a notch higher to stare at the horizon, which was covered by trees. He didn't appear to notice the trees, though, as he was looking right through those. It was easy to look over the head of all, as Dustrunners generally were somewhere between eight and a half to ten feet at height, and his body hadn't changed much, when not to take the changings of color and little adjustments in scaling into consideration. And wings. He now had wings. Strong. Red. Fly. He could fly. Now he was capable of. He didn't need to. Not now. Not right now. He spread his huge wings. Wings didn't have scales. Not dragon wings. Not dragon wings either. Not reptile's wings. Feathered? Feathers. Red feathers. A bird? Golden-red bird? The rest was still scaled. Reptilian. Only wings. Feathered wings. Strong. Red. Blood-red. And golden. Golden blood?
A thought can create a world, but only a word written down can ensure its existence.

-When I am physically capable of doing something it doesn't mean I can do it. When I can, it doesn't mean that I should. When I should, it doesn't mean that I must. When I must, it doesn't mean that I will.
-I might not always know where I currently am, but I am never lost. I know in which direction my destination lies.
-There is no faith in knowing. I prefer to know, as only in this way can I be certain in my decisions.
-The more people you ask a question the higher the chance that at least one of them is right.
-Make me walk on walls, don't force me to dance according to others' will.
-I agree that life can be depressing at times. I just choose to ignore it.
-I don't figure over possibilities. I want, I can, I do.


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Neutual Demon
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Cakeo? Imp Cakeo?
"But you however... dark elf, you I would not regret having to fight. Not only have you proved yourself to be in league with our enemy, but you have possibly cost me a fine throwing dagger. If I am not able to find it again, the cost shall be on your head."
Luman didn't even blink, as he kept his consentration on keeping the lich from moving. But a dark grin crept onto his face at the short elf's words. "Only the dead can kill the dead..." he said quietly, his dark eyes narrowing and his grin widening.
"Kura wishes to fight, Kura loves fighting. But Kura would kill everyone on the spot, so Kura cannot kill the dead. Poor Kura...Kura's been quiet for a long, long time...Kura needs some fun now and then..." A frown came onto his face. It has been quite some time since his pet rock had done anything, but now, it would work, but he didn't want to risk killing everyone else in the process, something he did not wish.
"I was meerly saving us the trouble, elf, trying to kill the dead is impossible unless you are dead..." He heaved a humming sigh, his eyes sad, but yet consentrating on keeping the lich put, where he belongs.
Something tells me that someone's playing with my head again...
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Wyrmling
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RP-Crazy @_@
"Heal fast. While changing. I, Arech. Crowned lich. Can't kill. Impossible. I? You think? Can kill me? Maybe not? Don't want. Won't attack. Only defend. Can't kill. Anyway. Why to try? Questions. Answers. Have to defend. Don't ask. No questioning. Have to defend. No orders. Don't listen to. But still have to... Can't explain... Not my kind. You aren't. Remember?"

Alyre suppressed a small sigh at the changer's words. Normally she would find the difference in speech fascinating, as she rabidly devoured information about foreign customs and languages. Now, however, was obviously not the time to be studying differences in speech. The elf's hand twitched on her blade, an unconscious effort to resist running the appendage through her raven-black hair. She blinked her eyes closed briefly, rapidly sorting through the being's phrase. When she opened her golden cat-eyes a moment later she was ready to attempt to communicate to the best of her ability.

"I am not your kind, no. This is the form that I was born with, and I have to learn aspects about an animal before I can change into them. I don't know what... remember you are talking about, but I have to attack the lich. He has desecrated the dead, attacked my friends, and he is now going to kill us all. It would be utterly absurd for me not to try and defend myself." Pressing her lips into a firm line, Alyre tried to think of a way to make the shifter see reason. It seemed not to be under the lich's control, nor was it inclined to do any direct harm to the party... but by preventing her from attacking the lich and breaking his concentration, he was still condemning her and her company to death. Presently, she heard the dark elf speak from her other side and turned her gaze his way.

"Only the dead can kill the dead... Kura wishes to fight, Kura loves fighting. But Kura would kill everyone on the spot, so Kura cannot kill the dead. Poor Kura...Kura's been quiet for a long, long time...Kura needs some fun now and then... I was merely saving us the trouble, elf, trying to kill the dead is impossible unless you are dead..."

Now Alyre was unable to bite back an impatient exclamation. "Goddess! Not only do I have to deal with a shape-changer, but I've also got an insane dark elf to contend with. What is it about these foreign lands that causes the inhabitants to be so contrary and odd?" Huffing out an exasperated breath, the small woman shot a sharp look at the elf, and at the shifter, just for good measure. "If you two are just going to stand around acting insane all day, I'm going to cut down some cadavers."

Hoping to take them by surprise, she was leaping swiftly away before the sentence had left her throat. Twirling nimbly away from the two, she slashed the arm off of a nearby zombie and delivered a kick to its chest, sending it sprawling backwards. She stepped forward and severed the head in one swift motion before continuing in an arc around the clearing. She worked her way around the edge, slicing at more risen corpses and working her way steadily around the battlefield to slowly maneuver herself closer to the lich in the center.
"From the tiny egg the great wyrm grows." -Kobold Preverb, D&D Draconomicon
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Shienvien
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I want, I can, I do
"I am not your kind, no. This is the form that I was born with, and I have to learn aspects about an animal before I can change into them.
"I know that. That I said. Already... I know. About changer elves. Don't remember?"
I don't know what... remember you are talking about, but I have to attack the lich. He has desecrated the dead, attacked my friends, and he is now going to kill us all. It would be utterly absurd for me not to try and defend myself."
"Have to..." Arech shifted from one leg to another repeating the words once, for himself. "Have to. Want... Must do. Not defending. Attacking. No mana. None left. Can't do no more. Not now. Do no more? Friends... Kill... Maybe. Possibly not. Too strong. No power to change. Desecrated? You say? Can't. Dead are dead. Less than nothing. Bones. Just that. No more. A Something everywhere. Nothing. Nothing with what was left. Have to attack. Pointless. Useless. But have to? Then have too. Conflict. I have one, you another. Disagreement. Both have to... Questions. Answers." The next moment his head jerked up as he tried to focus on A Somethings. True. Gone. Some of these gone. Brother's too. Cost of not accepting. Wanting not doing. More alive? Barely sense A Something. More than? More? How could be? Others. A Something. Ones with bodies. Still A Somethings. One not. How could be? Impossible? Should not be? Confusion. Interrupted.

"Only the dead can kill the dead... Kura wishes to fight, Kura loves fighting. But Kura would kill everyone on the spot, so Kura cannot kill the dead. Poor Kura...Kura's been quiet for a long, long time...Kura needs some fun now and then... I was merely saving us the trouble, elf, trying to kill the dead is impossible unless you are dead..."
"False." Arech said the one word, stressing it. His head turned. To look directly at the speaker. Dark Elf. More fire. "False. Dead. Are dead. No killing. Just dead. Nothing more. A Something. Undead. Not dead. Dead can't kill. Can't do anything. I know. Have..." His eyes seemed to turn foggy for a moment, as he tried to remember things he couldn't remember. "Dead can't kill dead. That. Nothing. Nothing more. Undead. Not dead. Immortal. Can't kill. Live can't. Dead can't anything. Nothing. Just nothing. Live kill. Undead kill. Not dead. Immortal. Impossible to kill. Crowned lich. Immortal. Undead. Not dead. Dead. Can do nothing. Fire Kura? A Something stone? And fire. Will be fire." With that he seemed to dismiss both elves entirely for a few moments.

"If you two are just going to stand around acting insane all day, I'm going to cut down some cadavers." Arecharnaw saw trough. Not important. She tries. Futile. Let her. He will be there. Where he wants. Nowhere else. Not somewhere. There.

His form lowered itself closer to the ground, the powerful wings spreading even wider, and suddenly moving up, higher off the ground. For a moment he was nearly immobile, just being there in the half-crouching position, wings raised. A moment or two had passed when he suddenly brought his wings down in a powerful flap and leaped at the same time, tearing his relatively heavy body off the ground and fending a cloud of dust from the ground to float in the air, soon falling back down on the ground- and anyone else who happened to be close enough when Arech proceeded with his clumsy-ish take-off.

He had been right. Strong wings. Strong enough. With powerful wingbeats he carried himself higher, until finally finding a branch high up that was solid enough to support his heavy-structured body, co-between of a birds and a reptiles. He watched. Red. Golden. Yellow. Orange. Fire. He waited. Higher.
A thought can create a world, but only a word written down can ensure its existence.

-When I am physically capable of doing something it doesn't mean I can do it. When I can, it doesn't mean that I should. When I should, it doesn't mean that I must. When I must, it doesn't mean that I will.
-I might not always know where I currently am, but I am never lost. I know in which direction my destination lies.
-There is no faith in knowing. I prefer to know, as only in this way can I be certain in my decisions.
-The more people you ask a question the higher the chance that at least one of them is right.
-Make me walk on walls, don't force me to dance according to others' will.
-I agree that life can be depressing at times. I just choose to ignore it.
-I don't figure over possibilities. I want, I can, I do.


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Wyrmling
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RP-Crazy @_@
Walking was boring. Why was she walking again? Oh yes: she was enjoying the scenery. Rhindani glanced around at the monotonous plains that were her surroundings. The Gateway had been dangerous, and there had even been a few times that she had been in serious danger of death... but she was beginning to think that she preferred mortal excitement to endless boredom. To pass the time, she began to sing as she walked, opening her mouth to fill the air around her with a light, cheerful melody.

"Dragonling in a land of plenty,

plenty of land and lots of sky,

finds the boring ground quite endless,

then decides to simply fly."


With her last words, the small creature lifted her wings and freed herself relievedly from the ground, winging rapidly into the air and leveling off a few dozen feet off the ground. "Now I don't know why I didn't just do this in the first place," she commented to herself. "The view is much better from up here. She flew rapidly over the plains, whistling idly to the gentle tinkle of the wind against her multiple trinkets and items. She flared her spiny wings and executed a daring flip in midair, her spirits lifting as she had the most fun since escaping from that Rock Worm. "Now that was an ugly beast," she said seriously to herself. "What deranged god thought it would be a good idea to create a gigantic legless creature that lived in the mountains? Io knew what he was doing when he created dragons."

Circling on a handy thermal, Rhindani spotted a forest in the distance. "Oh lovely, some change in scenery! Why don't I go over there? Yes, why don't I?" She turned toward the trees and glided gently towards it, interspersing her leisurely soaring with periods of insane flapping. As she neared the forest she saw movement in the trees. Approaching with interest, she saw that there were several humanoids gathered around, apparently having a battle. "Oh glory! Glorious glorious day. I have stumbled upon a battle. And look: undead and elves and humans and... goodness! I don't even know what that is. Why don't I find out yes why don't I? Undead are so terribly foul. What a stench they produce! Here, I can smell it already." Without pause she broke into exuberant song, seemingly uncaring that the party below might hear her.

"Swoop and flip and spin and whirl

loop-de-loop and frenzy-twirl

here I come and down I go

hail to all who fight below!"
"From the tiny egg the great wyrm grows." -Kobold Preverb, D&D Draconomicon
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Shienvien
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I want, I can, I do
Speech. Faint. Overhead. Above. Can be heard. Yes. Loud. Noisier? No. Now something different. Singing? Words in rhymes. Tones. Changings in tone. Lower. Higher. Louder. Quieter. Yes that was it. Singing. Words. He could make out words. Many words. Some meaningless. Some meaningful.
"Swoop and flip and spin and whirl
loop-de-loop and frenzy-twirl
here I come and down I go
hail to all who fight below!"

Song. Out of nothing. Flying singer. Above.

Wings spread again, and with a loud, echoing crack the branch finally gave off when he used his full strength to throw himself up into the air again. It had still been too fragile. His golden-red body moved higher through the air. Body was mostly Serahhr's, with only longer scales and slight ridge on the back. Wings looked like birds, and those were huge, reaching five times his former height while standing up.

His wings flapping he raised higher than treetops. Higher. He saw. A dragon. Metallic. Copper dragon. Small. Very small. For a dragon. He was half-reptile. Still acid-fanged. Still. Soon not. There are changes. The changes change. The dragon was tiny. In comparison. To him. To other dragons. Five feet. No more. Wings spread wide. Ten. Maybe. His were larger. His bird-wings. On reptilian body. Four. Five times as large. He was heavy. His wings were beating. But air supported. Thick air. He had wings. He could lift his body up in the air. He was capable of it. When he wanted.

"Arech. Arechiarnaw. Changer. Shifter. You? Copper dragon? Singer?" He spoke, his voice still that of Serahhr's.
A thought can create a world, but only a word written down can ensure its existence.

-When I am physically capable of doing something it doesn't mean I can do it. When I can, it doesn't mean that I should. When I should, it doesn't mean that I must. When I must, it doesn't mean that I will.
-I might not always know where I currently am, but I am never lost. I know in which direction my destination lies.
-There is no faith in knowing. I prefer to know, as only in this way can I be certain in my decisions.
-The more people you ask a question the higher the chance that at least one of them is right.
-Make me walk on walls, don't force me to dance according to others' will.
-I agree that life can be depressing at times. I just choose to ignore it.
-I don't figure over possibilities. I want, I can, I do.


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