The circle...

An interesting name, to be sure. And an interesting symbol. It symbolizes that without a beginning and without an end. It is fitting because the circle has always been, and will always be, long after man has left the surface of DI.

What is the circle devoted to? Well, pretty much anything, everything, and nothing. For the circle encompasses all and none. Those from all walks of life are admitted entrance, for the circle holds no prejudice. It is simply a place for those who wish to meet with others to meet in peace and enjoy the company of others.

There may come times when the members of the circle deem it necessary to act in the world. If such a time comes, its members are expected to heed the call, for if the circle is broken, then the circle is undone. If the circle stays complete, nothing can end the circle and it will continue forever. Of course, the circle recognizes the ebb and flow of all things within life. People are free to join and leave the circle as they please, for such a small break or addition will not change the circle's whole being. Only when a part is missing from the whole is the circle undone.

So come all ye who would. The circle awaits with a warm embrace.

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The circle. The newest clan to grace DI. Well, not the newest, perhaps the oldest in all of the universe. Still, the circle is new to this age.

What's its goal? Well, anything that the characters will it. It can simply be a place to congregate without prejudice and make friends, or it can be a place to meet and make bigger and better plans for the future.

I hope that we will have clan battles or events in our future, but perhaps that is not what the circle will want.

Anybody can join, assuming that you meet the one and only criteria of the clan: Good post quality. If you can't post well, then don't bother. And I don't mean by your standards either, I mean by mine. So unless you can fill out a few paragraphs with good, valuable information, don't bother applying.

Aside from that, you are free to join. As stated above, there are no alignment, class, or race restrictions.

Members:
Drakol - The first of the age.
Boreas - The second of the age
Dhalia - The third of the age
Musalis - The fourth of the Age
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On to our holdings:

The circle's clan holdings are located on the border of the Shale Lands and the Plains of Argis. (Marked on map at the bottom). The holdings are a system of caves heated by a weak geo-thermal hot-spot that passes under the floor of the caves. The walls are, of course, made of shale. There are several parts to the clan holdings:

And entrance hall that opens onto an incline that leads to the grassy land of the Plains of Argis below. The door is concealed from the ground by spines of rock and a coat of shale-coloured paint. The entrance way is furnished with ancient rugs, and has only sparse furnishings.

The next room, the common room, is the largest. It consists of a large central fireplace ringed with several benches and couches, with dull glowing orbs floating about the halls- the semi-static lighting for the system of caves. Ventilation shafts are cut into the stone in the roof of this room and every other room of the holdings, though they are not more than a few inches wide and are rigged to prevent the entrance of water from the sparse rains. A pool of water lays at one side of the common room so that the members may drink whenever they wish. It is fed by a small underground stream that trickles down from the walls and flows down a small groove should the pool get too full. The common room is lavishly decorated.

The other rooms include: Kitchen, Latrine, Practice ring, Library, six bedrooms, and several other rooms, all of which are in caves.

The bedrooms: The bedrooms are magical in nature. They are shaped and molded to fit the personality and alignment and nature of the occupant the moment they enter the room. With a spoken command, the room retains this shape until the member leaves the circle. All of the rooms are roughly the same size, though their size has been known to shift for larger occupants. Strangely enough, one of the rooms is locked and barred with an immensely powerful enchantment, the likes of which none on this plane have ever seen. What lies behind the door, no one will ever know.

All of these rooms are arranged in a wheel with the Common Room as the centre.
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Location of the circle's holdings:

Drakol had discovered the door to the circle's holdings long ago. Long before he had embarked upon his quest for Gauge as outlined by the Radiant Novel. When he first found it, however, the door had been locked by a powerful enchantment. Thinking it a home for a wizard more powerful than he, Drakol didn't bother it.

It was only recently, after winning the tournament that Drakol recalled the door set into the stone. It had been only a few days trek from Vallandar. What spurred him forward was the loss of his prior clan. The members had all gone or disappeared, leaving him alone. That door in the shale held promise.

After leaving the Darkened Horizons holdings in Vallandar, Drakol set out to sate the curiosity that had been burning within him for the last two months. What was behind the door? That was the question on his mind over the six days that it took him to reach the shale lands, then the next three that it took to actually find the bloody door.

Finally, after much searching, the door was found. The wizard immediately noted the lack of magic about the door on this visit. It still lingered in the air though, as if someone had discharged the spell only a day before. Wary, Drakol had cracked open the door and entered the cave, weapon drawn.

He was met by nothing but empty air and softly glowing magical orbs. He stalked through the entire place, but found nothing. The system of caves was queer indeed, and it was only as he flopped down in the central chair some two hours later that he noticed the layout of the caverns. While sitting, he also took note of a door that he had passed over before. Going to it, he discovered a similar magical aura that had lay upon the outer door not long ago. It chilled Drakol, but he knew more than to worry. Erecting a few magical wards of his own around the door, he returned to his seat.

A day passed, then two. Drakol had discovered much about the rooms, and had learned the nature of the cave system from an inscription that adorned the upper rim of the common room. It was in an ancient language, but several books in the library helped to translate. He had learned how to claim a room as his own, and did so in a swift manner.

He strode to the nearest bedchamber door, slightly different from the rest, and spoke in a clear, loud voice: "I am Drakol. A denizen of both cavern and surface, creature of the night forced to walk in the day. A lone wizard with a force greater than nature in the palm of his hand." Then entered.

His room was an odd one. It looked something like a cave mouth opening into the night air. He entered near the half-way point, coming out of the wall of the cavern. While the sky was locked in perpetual night, it did simulate the current weather outside. The view was very similar to that of the view out of the front door. It was a clear merger of Drakol's two lives. The first, lived entirely underground, was symbolized by the cave. The second, lived in the open air, was symbolized by the plains and the sky. The room was furnished of course, but everything thing looked natural; either made of stone or shaped-yet-living wood. The only difference: The rock bed was far more comfortable than an actual rock bed. A fake fire blazed in the middle of the room near the 'mouth' of the cave, and could be extinguished at a word. It was odd, but Drakol felt more at home here than anywhere else on the planet.

It would not be until much later, after his return, that he would notice other features of the room. The walls were engraved with faint arcane symbols, looking as if someone had somehow devised a way to scratch beautiful, flourishing letters into solid stone. Drakol would also come to blast a hole into the back wall of the cave, creating an opening into a mysterious room.The hole opens into a darker part of the cave where he would find faintly glowing letters lining the walls and sparks of energy leaping across the ceiling. It was fitting. The front of his room told of his life as an adventurer, part under ground, part above ground. The back cavern, which was furnished and shelved with pieces made of cherry wood, was his 'secret' arcane life. It would serve as his study and haven for the times to come.

The room fit him so miraculously well.

Having staked his claim, Drakol left the cave system that belonged to The Circle with a feeling of belonging back within his heart. He knew not if others would join him, nor did he truly care. It felt good to have a new beginning that made you feel like you had been there forever. He knew that the place was safe, it had the sort of easy feeling that made anger wash away when you walked through the door. A magical place, a good place.

It would be some time before he would return to the cave system. Drakol knew, however, that he would be far more powerful than before when he finally did.

Death was his only companion...

Although death was not constant. Before the kill, there was anticipation. During the kill, ecstasy. But after the kill, disappointment. There was little skill in death, for the most part, and the hollow feeling that accompanied the kill was only changed by the brief, sour taste of easy conquest. His world was silence, the quiet shadows at society's edge leaving only the echoed whispers of life. After his encounter with the Drow priestess Ghera, he had slowly began resenting his solitary existence. The feelings of love and acceptance that had flooded him in her presence were gnawing at his heart, contradicting the aura of unnatural life that made all but the most brave of heart leave his presence.

He had been tasked with identifying a curious mage whose adventures had piqued the interest of a certain king. Spying on someone was not normally in Acheron's repertoire of tasks, but it seemed that he was, for once, tired of killing. Upon learning that this mage was of his own race, a rarity within the lands of Darkness Incarnate, he became all the more eager to see one of his wayward race.

He had tracked the mage to the borders of the Shale Lands, and upon searching the mountainous terrain, he finally found a well-concealed door hidden behind an outcrop of wicked looking spines. He tentatively opened the heavy door, and walked, rather than prowled, inside. He was met by a dimly lit hall covered with large, musty rugs and sparsely furnished with a small wooden end table. Upon the table was a small glowing orb, held by an iron claw that rose around it as if clutching it.

Acheron reached out with one cautious hand, and touched the strange object. He immediately drew it back, and let out a hiss. The thing did not burn him as would a fire, but it seared his fingers with the cold heat of deep ice. He let out a small chuckle as he shook his hand to clear the frost that had formed, for him to have let such a thing happen was certainly a measure of his eagerness to meet his new mark. He composed himself, and moved on.

The corridor opened to a large circular room filled with the same dim light and a number of the coldlight orbs that had been present in the entry. Strange markings ran around the upper rim of the room, some ancient spidery script that gave off a dim luminescence. He could not decipher what they meant, but that did not matter to him now. Looking around, he saw several low benches surrounding a sizable fireplace in the center. The fire gave off very little warmth, therefore he suspected that it was created and maintained by the strange power that gave such unusual life to the orbs that decked the halls. There was a sense of emptiness in the place, but not one of foreboding.

In fact, what he had mistaken as the strengthening of the priestess' enchantment was actually the feeling of the caves. They felt homely, gave him a warm sense of belonging. He glanced back up at the spidery script that adorned the crown molding of the room. He noticed several patterns and settled in to study them for the rest of the evening.

Some hours later, he said one simple phrase;

"I am Acheron, and darkness parts for me."

Acheron heard the shifting and flowing of some sort of force off to his right, and walked over to check. He turned down a long hall and passed by what looked to be doorways that lead into nothing but pure shale, finally coming to one that was carved into the semblance of tendrils of evil reaching into the hall. The inside of which was not dark, but not lit in any way either. A small bed sat in one corner, it's dark purple sheets perfect and crisp. Opposite the bed was a large wardrobe, opened to reveal several dark cloaks, and a multitude of black clothes. Hanging on the wall was a perfect portrait of a man holding a woman in his arms, the background a winter scene, a copse of fir trees.

Upon further inspection, he gasped. It was not just some man and woman. It was himself, holding the lifeless form of Ghera, face upturned in howling grief, eyes burning with sorrow and frustration. Even as he watched, the face lowered and looked directly into his eye. His ink double lay the dead woman down on the snow, her blood making his tunic shine in the bright moonlight. He closed her eyes with loving care, and brought his hand to his chest. The dark ebony of his cheeks was slick with tears, the bright shining essence of his remorse freezing as they fell. He slowly drew his hood about his face and walked out of the scene.

Acheron stared at the painting, dumfounded. It reset once again to the small Drow man howling into the uncaring world, and replayed the sorrowful scene. Whatever power was at work here, it sought to punish him for something. ...Or maybe... Maybe I want to punish myself... he thought.

He dropped his pack by the wardrobe and walked back into the commons. He had obviously missed his mark, but maybe if he lay in wait, his mark would come walking to him. He found the small pool of water near the back of the room and lay by it, the coolness rising from the water soothed his aching soul, and as he sat there staring at his own reflection, he contemplated just how he was going to explain his presence in this place, and whether or not he would carry out his task.

He did not know how he managed to stumble into the cave. Leon had been traveling through the shale lands for a day or two now. After the last village he had visited and given his own personal attentions too, he had caught a fever. It had gotten progressively worst as he traveled. His head was an inferno as his body shivered from the ice water running through his veins. Illusions of his past kept dancing in front of his eyes. Originally he struck out at them trying to make the shadows disappear. This worked, at least while he had the strength to swing his arms. Once that was sapped from his withering body he took to ignoring them. Again this worked for a time, but soon enough he found himself engaged in the remnants of his past. He spent his nights on the cold ground and his days stumbling around.

He eventually found the entrance to the cave by pure dumb luck, though in his mind he mistook it for the entrance of his own tomb. The descent into the dimly lit darkness was welcomed, the bright hard light of the sun was making his head hurt even worse. Leon eventually found the little trickle of water along the walls when he found the main room. He followed the stream down to the run off pool and fell face first into the bone chillingly cold water. The taters he called clothes fell away from his body, crumbling in the water. Leon dragged himself out of the pool and found a cloak at hand as if it was there waiting for somebody to find. Its color was black and fitting. Leon slipped on the clean garment enjoying the feeling of something new and fresh on his body.

His eye sight however was failing him as the fever grew more intense. All he could see were dim orbs of glowing light making something of a trail. Leon got up on his shaky feet and followed the path set out in front of him. As he passed each orb, the images from his past came back to him and would not go away this time. He watched his entire life unfold again, the endless cycle of turmoil, journey, and false peace. Right now he was on the journey part of the cycle. The last bit of turmoil had driven him insane. This was to be the last cycle of the waltz of his life. He planned on killing a certain That Guy and then killing all the gods. Then he could die happily and end the cycle with the loss of his life. But it looked as if he wasn't going to make it that far. His journey was all too likely going to end here. He came to the last light and a door. Leon put his palm on the door and leaned against it. He could feel the magic as if it was waiting for him to speak some phrase or perform some action. Thinking this would be the door to his burial chamber, he spoke his own epitaph.

"Here lies the Zero King Leon. He became Sin but still failed to kill That Man. The powers laugh, The world pays no attention, A village is laid to rest, And a single maiden grieves no more."

The door slid open into a black room and Leon stumbled in. He found an empty stone alter and laid down on it. He could hear the door sliding shut as his body seemed to sink down as the darkness surrounded him. He drifted off to his death, his soul not at peace.

A few days later Leon awoke in the room. His body felt much better and he fever had vanished all together. A couple of days rest was all he needed. Leon had forgotten it had been since he actually slept. He had taken to meditating while he walked to rest his body. It must have finally caught up with him.

Leon looked around and noticed the room he now occupied being sparsely furnished. The little rock bed he was using was actually really comfortable. He saw his tonfa lying on a small cleaning table and over the table there was a scroll. He recognized it as the one that hung in the dojo of his former clan, Ronin’s Path. The meaning of the Kanji on the scroll had been burned into his head long ago. They read “A true warrior walks their own path.” Leon sat there studying the scroll and reached out to touch it only to find it was an illusion. Leon had to chuckle and smile at this; his involvement in that clan had been an illusion in reality. He only went to that dojo once and that was to pick up his father’s gauntlets. Leon had melted them down and used the metal to make his own tonfa. He would have to return to that dojo one day soon however. There were many mysteries that were held there and probably a few items he could use.

Leon continued to search the room and found three large mirrors. Staring into the mirrors he saw the same room, but a much different version of himself in each one. The first one held a version of him with fangs and claws. His ears were much more pointed and he even had a tail. Leon recognized the old form that had caused him so much trouble and started him down his endless waltz. The youth and innocence was still intact in that from of him, the death that body suffered was not a pleasant one.

The next version was not the much different from his current body. The pale skin and lack of claws and fangs, the short silver hair that always seemed to be standing up, the light muscled build, everything was as it should be except the eyes. In the eyes there lived a sense of humanity. This was the form that still had its heart and soul intact. This form Leon had destroyed himself to make way for the creature that stood in the third and final mirror.

The final image had regained the fangs and claws of the first form, though they dripped crimson tears from their tips. His hair was still silver, though it seemed to be laced with red. The grey eyes of the other two forms had gone to dark black marbled with silver. The scars on the matched those of other two pale forms, but the black markings running up his arms and legs and covering his torso and head were new. This was the demon that Leon was rapidly becoming and it seemed eager to come out and be a part of the world.

Turning away Leon found a pair of cloth pants. He put them on followed by his boots and the belt that held his tonfa in their sheathes, making sure to strap them onto his legs above the knee to keep them sheathes from flopping around. The cloak he was wearing suited him fine so he decided to keep that as it was for now. He would make alterations to it as needed.

Leon stepped out of the room and found himself in a large common room. There was nothing really there but a fire pit with a ring of benches around it. He kept noticing a circle on all the doors and guessed that was the symbol of whatever clan’s sanctuary he had stumbled upon. Sensing he had claimed a room here as his own he laughed. He had unknowingly joined into a group of strangers. Leon, the prime evil Sin, was part of a clan. He laughed but could see their might be some advantage to this situation. You never knew when you could use someone else to further your own goals and having a sanctuary to return to when needed might not be a bad idea. The end of his journey was not that far off, he was no more than a week’s journey from the place That Guy was residing in. For now Leon would tolerate it. In the end he might be able to persuade some of the others of this circle to become cannon fodder for him as he stormed into the gates of the heavens.

Welcome aboard you two.

Enjoy the now tainted water.

Time had dulled his sense of guilt, and punishment had lessened his grief to some extent, but still Darious felt lost. That first savage battle lust had done more then just strip the young Martial Artists of his newly fledge honour, it had torn out the ground from beneath him. His roots had vanished that day, his lack of honour breaking any hope he had of rejoining his master and kin. His brothers and sisters, who once held him in such high esteem, would most definitely stare down at him with contempt. Even little Sapphire; the one member of his family that he cared for the most, who held a special place in his heart, would be forced to turn away from him, and that fact hurt deeper then any physical wound ever could.

Now he just drifted throughout the world, ordinary clothes and dark untidy brown hair making him obsolete to anyone who happened to glance upon him. Only his eyes set him apart, for the left eye was a deep dark brown that had the look of great depth in it, and his right eye was the deepest green of the clearest emerald, shinning with its brilliance. His untidy hair was just long enough to cover his strange eyes, an advantage that Darious used almost constantly as he wondered.

The only thing that kept his sanity intact was the steadfast and silent companionship of his feline brother, Mithras. The snow leopard followed Darious everywhere he went, hunting for his brother at nights and watching him as he slept his troubled sleep. It was the one solid thing in his life, but it was too small to make much of a difference, instead making Darious long for something more. For someplace that he could call his own, some purpose he could follow and some reason for him to forgive himself and regain his shattered honour.

What haunted him the most was that he knew he couldn’t return to his old life looking for all these things. The only way he could hope to be accepted once more by his Kin was to regain all this on his own, in his own way, but he was completely lost about how. This was the reason he now wondered aimlessly around the world, looking for something but finding nothing.

It was as his wondering brought Darious to the border where the great plains of Argis ended and the shales began that a particular feeling pulled against Darious’ troubled mind. A tantalizing sort of welcoming, with a hint of purpose which Darious could belong to. At first it was faint but as he walked closer to the border it picked up in intensity and intruded enough into Darious consciousness that he was forced to acknowledge it. And then, as if in answer to his acknowledgement, the feeling became something of a compass, pointing Darious in a direction he suddenly felt compelled to travel.

His sudden change of direction surprised his feline brother, who looked strangely at Darious. It was the first quick movement his brother had made in a long time, and he hesitated for a couple of seconds before leaping up to continue follow. Darious, however, ignored his brother’s hesitation, giving the strange feeling his utmost concentration.

It wasn’t long before his quick pace brought him to a shadowy little crater in the plains, and hidden in this crater was an impressive door, leading to who knows what. A tingling ran up his spine as Darious stood before the door, startling him almost as much as the slow growl that sounded from beside him. A quick glance showed that his brother Mithras was standing with his teeth barred threateningly at the door, his white fur standing on end. Normally Darious would be worried about this reaction, but the feeling of welcoming was stronger then ever now, and the promise of purpose was no longer a small hint but a strong chain, roping him in. What lay behind this door could be a trap, but Darious didn’t care, for if this feeling was true then he had finally found what he had been wondering for so long for.

Reaching out with a slightly shaking hand; Darious grasp hold of the door and pulled it open, entering swiftly. A dark decline opened onto an entrance hall that was well lit by a number of strange glowing orbs. The feeling took on a whole new level as it drew Darious deeper into the depths, leading him into a larger room that Darious took no notice of, pulling him out of this room and placing him before an ordinary looking door. But it wasn’t the look of the door that held Darious but rather the promise that seemed to emitting from it, one to suggest to Darious’ lost soul that here was a place to take root, a place that could be his own, a place that he could regain his honour from. And somehow he knew exactly how he had to claim it.

“I am Darious, and I seek a purpose.”

Strange noises issued from behind the door as some power force it to change, to become something that it wished. Suddenly they stoped and a small click sounded out, followed by the slow swaying of the door as it opened. Darious walked slowly inside and was stunned by what he saw. He entered the now circular room that was almost completely taken up by a ring of padded fabric. The walls where almost completely covered by human size straw dolls, weapons, benches and even a good selection of weights. Every single thing that Darious could think of to use during his training was lined on these walls, and across the far side were a simple hammock and a cushioned box.

Darious stood in the centre of the ring and looked around, taking in every detail he could. This room was set up as a perfect Dojo, one that, for the first time in his life, he would not have to share with anyone. Mithras padding quickly into the room, circling once a sniffing everything he could be he settled himself in the cushioned box, one that Darious noted with amusement was the perfect size for his feline brother.

Darious sat himself upon the hammock and looked back at the door that was now closed. A simple circle was all the decorated the back of the door, and yet Darious knew that this circle was a symbol of much more. It had a purpose; that much he was certain of, a purpose that he was now committed to following, whatever it was. For the first time in a long while, Darious felt at peace with himself.

Just so you guys know... you can hold some sort of RP if you would like.

I won't be participating, however. I have something bigger in the mix that will come after I become uber-awesome.

It was dusk when Dahlia walked into the Plains of Argis from the entrance hall. She had followed the vivid directions given from Drakol back in the forest of so many memories, where not only her blood fell from the wounds he, personally, had given her--but where the lives of three others were taken, not so long ago.

We never really figured out what really happened there...Dahlia thought as she used her right arm to move branches and twine away from what could have been the door to his haven. Her left arm remained motionless at her side, it being a pain to use because she couldn't find anyone to help her along the way. It wasn't infected.

Dahlia looked down at her arm. It...wasn't infected.

...Then why were her fingers turning blue?

Dahlia smirked, almost letting out a laugh. Drow...blue...Hehehehe. She blinked rapidly, her movements stopping. When was the last time she laughed? That's what I get for traveling alone... Her hand brushed across something...different. There was something there that wasn't a part of the entire landscape.

It opened after she put more pressure on it, and a gasp escaped her lips without notice. Now, this...Dahlia could see why Drakol had called it "home."

It almost felt wrong when she set foot into the place. Compared to what she's seen aboveground, this was...something else entirely. Even compared to the Queen's chambers, where she used to feel home was, this was something that really seemed to take a part of her and shape it into something more than just someone not meant to see the light of day. Her observations and thoughts were interrupted by the all too familiar shivering pain pulsing through her arm, and she wasn't sure about how much longer she could stand it. She had to find appropriate bandages soon, or who knows what might happen if she endured this pain any longer.

Dahlia was about to make her way toward the pool of water before one of the room's doors suddenly opened in the very corner of her eye. It was as if some sort of force--magic, she knew--forced her feet to walk. Step by step, she found herself raising her left arm to touch the door in acknowlegement, and it--knowing she was doing so--expected her to say something.

It's a pleasure to meet you, the door seemed to say. Speak, for only you know the way to your destiny.

"Discovery is my seeker, fate is my beacon, and destiny has no name--whereas I call myself Dahlia Ami." She said this in a tone not frightening or loud, but in a volume barely more than a whisper. Short, sweet. Simple. Very "her." Without a prompt from her hands, the door silently, yet slowly, revealed the treasure once hidden in the depths of her heart. Dahlia's breath caught, realizing just how much she had changed within the time she'd spent away from the Queen and her life before everything had gotten chaotic.

There were no incense, no extravagant linens draped along the walls and the floors. No animal skins, no corsets, no metal, no torches. Oh no, Dahlia liked it simple--natural. There were cotton sheets and pillows, her bed's feathered mattress being set within a flat, smooth rock with cotton fabrics draping down and across the entire ceiling, acting as a mosquito net around the entirety of the room. There were big, honeysuckle scented candles placed strategically around the room so that they wouldn't catch the room on fire. There were woven rugs strewn about everywhere, and there was a corner set up for meditation with fluffy pillows and linens. There was an oil burning that smelled of eucalyptus, but it was faint and was used to clear the nasal passages and for colds. But, the truth was, she liked the smell regardless of its healing work.

And, finally--finally! Dahlia walked over to the desk in two strides after parting the mosquito "net" toward where bandages were sitting in a small box with a cross engraved into it. Dahlia took a cup from the tray where smell-goods lay, walked back out to the common room, scooped up some fresh water into her sanitary cup, and walked back toward her room to clean and bandage her wounds anew.

Dahlia couldn't help but wonder where Drakol was. She thought he would have been here by now...she bit her lip and focused at the task at hand after shutting her door, and taking a seat in her meditation corner, her first aid things scattered around her. Strangely, as she looked closely at her arm, she hoped they would leave scars.

welcome aboard Raine

i am up for a small rp, just so that our characters can meet, form some background and work out just how they would react to each member. Anyone else up for it? i place no rules on it, no lenght or time, just post whenever u can. If you are up for it i will post up Darious' first post under the name The Circular Beginning.

Be prepared for me to burst in some time. Probably not any time soon - My Gauge is still in battle - but I'll join up eventually.

well we can't have our first clan rp without our clan leader/wanabe demigod popping in now can we

Indeed we can't. ^^

so yoz when are you going to join in the rp? and is any of our other members going to join soon?

I have no idea at this point. My person that is supposed to be playing Gauge is MIA...

ahhh ok, so we gotta wait for that battle to finish first?