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| Andre Bates vs. Loki | |
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| Topic Started: May 24 2007, 11:38 AM (177 Views) | |
| Kassie Khane | May 24 2007, 11:38 AM Post #1 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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Andre Bates vs. Loki RP Limit: 3 RP each, per match Deadline: 11:59 pm EST on Tuesday, May 29, 2007 |
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| The Lost Boy | May 25 2007, 03:37 AM Post #2 |
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Edited to test new Layout. Thanks Shorty! http://www.freewebs.com/thelostboy65/chapter1.htm |
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| Andre Bates | May 26 2007, 07:00 PM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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There is no need to introduce myself, I am merely an observer. You need not hear my tale, only the tale of the truly unique individuals I have come to know and admire. These extraordinary men have faced incredible odds, and have met my utmost expectations. They have saved the innocents, and have indeed punished the wicked. You see, I write not of politicians, or entertainers. I write of real men, who take a stand against all things evil. I speak not of mere mortals, I speak of Heroes. My first interaction with them, was when I was attending a college in the City of Memphis, Tennessee. I was a young man, and often quite the mischievous. Along with several of my friends, we had skipped our class to smoke marijuana in the men's restroom. An innocent ordeal, for one such as myself at that time. Another student however, entered our premises. The audacity of this person to interrupt us! We silenced our anger, and simply hid our joints, as this student was known to be a favorite amongst teachers. One of us, had hidden the joint behind him. Unfortunately for him, it caught his pants on fire. In the excitement, he had begun to launch out. He first lunged at me, to which I merely shoved him away. We were laughing, our friend had provided us with intense entertainment. However, we laughed little when he lunged at the student. The screams of torture by the both of them, as the flames engulfed their earthly bodies. The horror of which I live with to this day. In the mist of this terrifying ordeal, the remaining friends and I escaped the restroom. The fire had already begun to spread past the restroom, and into the hall. In the confusion, I was knocked to the floor by a flood of frightened students. I attempted to regain my posture, but to my surprise, a Professor was shoving his way through the crowd in an attempt to rescue his own life. This Professor mind you, was our Political Science teacher, an amusing prospect now considering. To my displeasure, I was shoved aside by this professor. The force of the shove, and the position of my head against the wall, rendered me unconscious. I recall awaking several minutes later, surrounded by flames. I was awakened mind you, by the heat of the fire. A heat I still feel to this day, a heat which is the cause of my shame. Slapping myself across the face in a futile attempt to both put out the fire, and punish myself, I began feeling weaker. As if the air itself, had been burnt by the flames. I looked around, and saw the bodies of the dead. My own actions have caused this, and for such I felt despair. I can not begin to explain my emotions at the time. It is safe to say, that I saw into Hell itself, and welcomed it. I laid back down, and was prepared for the fire to take me. I felt it burning my skin around my hands. It took every effort not to withdraw my hand. You see, I was intent to die for my sin. I knew that it was my fault that so many have died. I saw in the distance, the great figure of another student. One that was most unique, as he was a giant. I could not recall his name at the time, but I had noticed his head turn towards my direction. As if he had noticed me, and singled me out amongst the bodies of the dead. It appears that although I was intent to die, my voice still screamed in pain. It was this noise that brought the giant's attention to this dying man. I cried, and I thanked him, and yet I also cursed him. For within the mere moments it took for the giant to carry me to safety, I confessed my sins. I confessed to God, the Devil, and my rescuer. The Devil seemed willing to take me, but the giant, as if an Angel of God, forgave me. I was speechless. Even in all my agony, I could not utter a sound. As I was placed on the ground, and was being tended to by school nurses and good nature citizens I saw the giant walk back into the building. The flames burning all around him, and if by some miracle, he would return with another victim. I recall seeing this several times, before the giant no more exited the burning building with an innocent I had nearly murdered. The giant was nowhere to be seen, and I began screaming. Paramedics, who had recently arrived with the Fire Department ran to my aide, and proceeded to inject chemicals into my body. With my breath shortening, and my eyes closing, I pointed to the burning building. With all my mind I attempted to recall the giant's name. With all my soul, I called for him. I called for the hero, as I called for a savior. I cried for his life, not my own. I shouted with all my heart, "Andre!". The rest, I do not recall. I was given a sedative, and placed in the back of an ambulance. I awoke several days later in a hospital bed. Needles in my arm, and machines all around me. To this I cared not. I stood, and removed the needles from my arm. Machines started beeping all around me, so I unplugged them. I made my way to the door, caring not of my burnt skin, nor my nakedness. I walked out, and to my luck saw no one. I approached the desk, to which the nurse there was talking on a phone, her backed turned. I am quite sure now that the bandages on my face, and the paper clothing hanging from my chest would have raised questions had she been doing her job. To this, I often thank the worth ethics of the modern culture. I picked up a book, and skimmed through the names. Then I finally found what I was looking for. The name. You see, I remembered only his first name, Andre. I could not recall his last. To my surprise, his room was across the hall from mine. I was a close distance to my hero. Leaving the book, I began to walk the hall. As I neared the room, the Nurse picked up the book. Thankfully, I had opened the door and entered the room before she glanced in my direction. Therein lies the giant. The hero of our time. The mighty Hercules, the mighty Thor, the Saint Michael. I could have called him many names, some which are blasphemous . Although his massive size, and his muscular build, he laid in that hospital bed, a human. I began seeing him not as a god, nor an angel, nor super hero. I saw him not as a mythological being sent to our time to save humanity. No, I saw flesh and bone. I saw before me a man. Blessed with incredible strength, size, and build, yet the most magnificent blessing of this man was his heart. I saw his arm, broken and bandaged. What incredible force it must have been, to break the giant's arm! What incredible spirit it must have been to be willing to endure such pain, for another man! What love for humanity this giant must have, what hatred must I have for it was I who had caused this great man such pain. A tear fell from the giant's eye. A tear I could only imagine, was shed for the lost. For those that even this great giant of a man, both body and spirit, could not save. For those I have murdered. I saw he shed that one tear, even for me. I fell to my knees, and with my scarred hand, reached out to his. I grasp his hand, and buried my face in it. I wept, for I knew shame. I heard the giant speak. His voice, weakened yet thunder some. His spirit strong, but his body in agony. I heard him speak one word. "Don't." What anger I felt! What was his forgiveness if only for him to push me away? What audacity to save me from eternal damnation, only to watch me suffer! I spoke with an anger never before felt. I reached into the deepest pit of Hell to show my anger. All the while, the giant laid there. His eyes looking at me, seeing into my very Soul, of which the Devil has stolen. Hospital Security carried me away, thankfully before I could have done something I would forever regret. Shortly after my release from the Hospital, I had taken a quest to find spiritual aide. As I have suffered at the hands of the Devil himself for my actions, I longed to rid myself of this turmoil. I finally found it, at the home of one known as Eric Draven. For Eric Draven had experience in the spiritual nature, as did his brother of whom I only know as Sickle. It is them who explained to me Andre's action. It is to them who saved my Soul from Damnation once again. For to them I am eternally thankful. I pledged my loyalty to them, and vowed to support them in any way possible. I have been charged with keeping the records of the group known as the Dark Riders Gang. It's members include Eric Draven, Sickle, Scott Stonewall, and Andre Bates. These four, although separate at times, are always allies. Be they in another group, another organization, or even another Army, they are all tied together. It is a brotherhood they share. I have always called them the Asier, after the Norse Gods of Mythology, much to their discomfort at times. Yet that is how I see them. Often I hear the question, "Where have all the heroes gone?". To this I have an answer. They have gone into burning buildings, to rescue those in need. They have gone to war, to save their families and friends from oppression or annihilation. They have gone to the deepest pits of Hell, to the highest mountain on Olympus, and to the furthest reaches of Earth to seek and share the Truth. They have gone to hospitals, and churches, and the streets themselves to help those in need. To share their spirituality with their fellow man. They stand up and face overwhelming odds, and suffer consequences we dare not speak, for our very sake. They sacrifice their own lives, for you. For me, and for all Humanity. |
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| Andre Bates | May 29 2007, 08:47 PM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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Ok, a more common style of writting, although I still throw perspectives into it, but at least I have my character say stuff in this one. BTW, just in case you miss it, the Midgard guy is nuts. He's crazy. He's seeing things. Anyway, enjoy. With Sword in Hand |
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9:53 AM Jul 11