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About Lascivious

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    Senior Member
  • Birthday 06/18/1971

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  1. I will be making a old republic character - i have a hard time being evil or bad in Star Wars games for some reason. I don't think I will last long though. I think a good Star Wars MMO needs to either have everyone be a Jedi, or no one be a Jedi. I think the only Jedis should be like task givers and bosses and elite mobs. Scoundrel killing a Jedi? Kinda dumb. I mean they call bounty hunters "Jedi Killers" Huh? Ol Jenga got decapitated in 2 seconds. Weaksauce. And why can't a bounty hunter be Old Republic? There are good bounty hunters - I don't know... love Bioware but the classes just seem kinda iffy to me. But there some interesting things they are trying and i can't think of any games they did I don't like so, trying to be open minded. Oh I'll be playing a Jedi. *vroom*
  2. <p>its been so long since i been to this site, my mail said i had one message and it was Yich from Jan 2010!</p>

  3. <p>I sent them last night! <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/wink.png" alt=";)" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/wink@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p>

  4. <p>happy Birthday. Now log on and make me my damn boots.</p>

  5. <p>Thanks for the birthday wishes! Sorry for late response! Don't come around to TNG much anymore.</p>

  6. <p>Thanks for the birthday wishes. Sorry! Don't come around to TNG much anymore.</p>

  7. <p>Happy Birthday!</p>

  8. <p>Happy birthday!</p>

  9. The dream this evening was different. She was in the burning city of Stratholme. Unarmed and unarmored. The heat from the fires scorched her skin and the billowing clouds of smoke made her eyes water and obscured her vision. Out of this burning maelstrom strode her former lord, his menacing visage obscured and wavering behind the wall heat and blowing ash. Lascivious was proud. She never backed down from a fight. She was her queen’s champion. She was Mistress of the Grim. She ran. From every street, every alley, every square, the mindless dead poured forth driven on by their hunger for flesh and the mocking laughter of their master. She was heading toward the city’s main gate when she heard the cry. She couldn’t make out the words, but it was a female for certain. She stumbled into the square just in time to see a blood elf woman running into a burning building. She wanted to run forward, but her lungs were burning and her knees shaking with fatigue. By the time she came to the door the elf was mad, yelling at… nothing. The Forsaken had to rough her up a bit to get her out of her trance. She couldn’t remember what they spoke about. It had been quick, desperate, the details already fading. But she remembered the elf had red eyes. They went outside and others were there now. A crazy warlock, a warrior and… and Villayna. How odd. Then suddenly there was great howling as if all the dead and the dying in the city cried out at once, she put her hands over her ears and shut her eyes trying to will out the sound piercing her mind. Then… then nothing. She awoke in the room she kept in the holy city. Her blanket was kicked off the end of the cot and her skin was flush and hot. Although it was dark, lights from the city gave off enough light for her to see. She had fallen asleep reading and the candles she used had burned down to their ends. The sun will be up soon. With a small sigh she stood and put on a simple robe before going outside. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw a shadowed-robed figure standing on the ledge of the Scryer’s terrace looking down at the city. At her approach he turned toward her the light from the lanterns around the building shining on him. “Hello, Harmony.” “Madred?” He smiled a little and the girl squealed with delight and rushed into his arms pressing her face against his chest. “Oh, father! I’m so glad you are here!” Madred stroked the girl’s hair gently. “It’s alright, princess.” The knight grinned and looked up at him. “Kiara told me she ran into you. I was afraid you didn’t make it.” The Forsaken man smiled down at her and then kissed her deeply. At first Lascivious accepted it eagerly but after a moment struggled and pulled away. “Madred, I can’t. Not anymore.” “Hush now, princess.” Madred lifted his right hand brushing his fingers through her hair. “I’ve come to take you home.” Lascivious blinked with confusion. “Home?” He nodded and turned her toward the ledge, his left arm settling over her shoulder while he held his right hand over the city. “We are waiting for you.” Down below in the pit that was Lower City were crammed thousands of dead staring back at her with cold, blue eyes, their breath so frigid it steamed even on this chilly night. They raised their arms toward the terrace, their soulless grins welcoming her. “No.” Lascivious shook her head. “No.” Madred grabbed the girl and turned her back to the ledge, holding high enough that only her toes touched the ledge. “Every king needs a queen.” “No!” She tried to struggle, but she could not, would not, fight Madred. “Does this seem familiar to you, princess?” Madred released her stepping away. The death knight, her weight resting only on the balls of her feet on the ledge, tried to keep her balance. Madred lifted a hand to her and she reached out for it. At the last moment he moved it slightly so the ends of her fingers brushed against his. She stared at his satisfied grin in horror as she tumbled back into the pit. Lascivious sat up in bed hugging her knees to her chest shivering despite the heat in the room. As usual of late, she was alone and had tossed and turned most of the night. The blankets were a soaked mess and even the chill of her runes could not break her sweat. She put on her robes and walked outside. The first traces of dawn were showing behind the mountains and ground beaded with water in the morning chill. She walked to the ledge and looked down into Lower City. The merchants were awake and either setting up their wares, finishing crafting orders or preparing morning meals. There were no walking dead to be seen and no Madred. Where is he now? I should find him. The girl pulled the robes tighter against her and placed her hand on her chest. Through the material she could feel the scar of the blade that had pierced her heart covering another, older scar. It reminded her of another time when she had became the Grim’s mistress. It was the end of one life and the beginning of another. She had been haunted by her former humanity much like her former life under Arthas’ guidance haunted her now. She had confessed everything and laid her soul bare and it re-focused her will in a new direction. She had pulled the Grim from the doldrums and set it on its path to war in the underbelly of Azeroth and against the gods of Ahn Qiraj then on to Kael’s keep to subdue the traitor. Time devours all things. Perhaps it was time once again for a new beginning.
  10. Despite his honeyed words - words I am sure were difficult for him, I hate that peacock more than ever. If I could have physically gripped those words i would have shoved them down his throat. All my planning and preparation pulled from under me as I stood helpless and able only to watch by a single word. Syreena. It is not so strange that among a group such as the Grim power is given up so unexpectedly. What is strange is it has always been done willingly - to a certain extent. Had I known his mind perhaps I could have influenced him in another direction, but I know my current condition and what led to it leaves many uncertain. There was a time as mistresss neccessity determined a need to be harsh with her. But in truth I adore Syreena with all my heart. She has long been one of my favorites. I am most interested in what is going to happen now. These new Grim know her as the friendly snow-ball throwing rogue. But I have been Grim longer than any and never have I seen such a cold-blooded killer among us. She adapted to being a Dreadweaver. I am sure she is prepared for what is to come. She is my sister and I love her. I cannot plot against her and I will destroy any who do.
  11. Kiara has returned. I spoke with her last night. It seems some members of the family whose name she barrowed - the family that used her much like Breck used me - discovered who she was and had taken her prisoner. She did not want to talk about it so much then and promised we would talk more later. She says it has changed her and on the surface that seems to be so and I am certain any future we had together is over. I feel guilty. I knew something was wrong. I feel like I failed her as a friend. I feel angry. Kiara is Grim. Protecting Grim is what I had sworn above all else to do. I feel like I failed her as a Grim. Strangely, I also feel a great relief. That was from a part of my life I was not in control of. How can I determine now what was real and what was fiction created by another? My service to Arthas has been a disguised blessing. It has forced me to reclaim my discipline and remind me of the cost of losing focus. A mistake I am determined not to make again.
  12. the best thing about Rome is the longer you listen the better it is as you see all the lore and 'gloss' develop. i've been listening since 1994. BOHICA baby.