Heading to the University of Toronto for some immunology and pathology related microbiology shenanigans. I may have enough connection to lurk the forum from time to time. My eyes are always watching. Please do not kill this beloved section in the mean time. Au revoir.
{ 1 4 : 0 5 } xxxxxx After Torvald changed out of his shark suit, he had spent some time back on the boat mulling over all of the details Julius had explained to him. It cleared up many things, he had to admit, but at the same time, Bentley felt even more enigmatic and mysterious. He was the last one off the boat, and as he slowly followed the others into approaching the inn, Torvald acutely realized that this must have been the particular establishment of the working class featuring the strange lady.At the very moment, he needed to gather his thoughts. He seized up, and slid behind the others who were busy glancing at this strange woman Cane. Erik paid, but Torvald kept some money close in the case of this terrifying lady suddenly pouncing at him for thinking he was not part of the group. He took out his first aid kit and sat on a comfortable leather chair near the inn's window. The faint smell of sweet buns caked the panes, as if the air outside was thick with this bakery scent, but for all he could tell it may as well have simply been his imagination and fear of Bentley.Regardless, he had some ideas to settle. He would not be able to partake in the Bentley investigation just yet, especially when there was little to work on. The others would investigate well enough. He opened his first aid kid and retrieved a small spined notepad, and grabbing a pen, began to scribble down a web of connections that helped him draw rational conclusions. It looked like messy scribbles; Torvald had already gained enough experience in hand-writing like a doctor.
Let us frolic through the flowers, Amaury.
Yelling objection at the top of your lungs definitely counts as strong language.
{ 1 3 : 5 5 } xxxxxx Torvald gathered up his sharky thoughts and began to ask a few questions. << Only four will suffice for now, Professor. I want to get a better idea of what exactly is going on here. >> He walked over to the side of the bridge and rest his shark body by one of the control panels, leaning and crossing his flippers. << First, can you give me a detailed recap of the strange things you did find in Bentley? I need to understand them mentally so this revolution of ours can go along smoothly. Second, I require you to inform me about as many things as you may remember about the candy shop, especially the interior. Third, I wish to know if there were any changes in your students at the time of the incident. >> << Finally, >> Torvald played around with the rubber flippers. << I want you to tell me your opinion on why Bentley has become locked to the public in this manner. >>
But Nova is not a prinny.
It is funny because the Bourbon Restoration used a blank white flag as their actual flag.
{ 1 3 : 4 5 } << IGNITE REVOLUTION >> xxxxxx<< YOU ARE GETTING IN THE WAY OF THE REVOLUTION. IT IS PEOPLE LIKE YOU WHO ARE THE SPIKES THAT WILL NOT ALLOW THE FUTURE OF COMMUNISM TO PROGRESS BECAUSE YOU ARE BLINDED BY FALSITIES THAT DO NOT ALLOW YOU TO SEE THE TRUTH BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN SICKNESSES. >> Torvald strutted around, his large shark tail bobbing up and down as if it were twerking magnificently in the spring sunlight. << I HAVE QUESTIONS TO ASK WITH THE VERY CAPTAIN OF OUR SHIP OF EQUAL UTOPIA AND IF YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TAKE THE GODFORSAKEN QUEERAT OIL TO SETTLE YOUR OBVIOUS MISFACULTIES WITH YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS ON THE SHIP AS A RESULT OF THE SEASICKNESS THEN I AM TAKING YOU WITH ME AS A PRODUCT OF THE PROLETARIAT. >> He threw the queerat oil back into the first aid kit and closed it, picking it up and storing it away. He then walked over to Estelle and picked her up in a fireman's hold, jumping away from the deck in his shark suit. << I AM KEEPING YOU IN MY FLIPPERS UNTIL YOU GET SOME SENSE IN YOUR HEAD. >>The bridge was a relatively empty place, much more quiet compared to the rest of the yacht. Since Torvald's hands were full, he roundhouse kicked the door open, his shark tail adding extra force to the blow, and he barrelled in like a linebacker carrying an unrealistically terrified Estelle.<< PROOOOOFESSSOOOOOR JUUUUULIUUUUUUS, COMRAAAAADE. >>The momentum of the shark suit made him bump into a few knobs on the side of the control panel, far from the steering wheel where Julius was. What was that? He had knocked into a radio or something and began playing a song in the bridge.Torvald turned around and gently placed Estelle on the ground. Noticing the knobs he just hit, it appeared that this song was being broadcast down into the sea below as well.<< COMRADE, THESE PEOPLE ARE ACTING RIDICULOUS ON THE BRIDGE SO I HAVE BROUGHT THEM HERE FOR SAFEKEEPING. WE MUST KEEP THE DOOR OPEN FOR IF SHE FEELS BETTER HOWEVER. >><< But I am here to ask a few questions, first of all. >>Torvald cleared his throat.<< CEASE REVOLUTION >> << I am well enough aware that you are the most sensible and experienced of those who were taken in with the events of Bentley three years ago. To get a better grasp of the situation, is it possible for you to answer a few of my questions while you sail that ship? >>
There was a post here. It is gone now.
{ 1 3 : 4 5 } << IGNITE REVOLUTION >> xxxxxxPerfect, excellent, the singe upon the ashes of Lenin would be proud of his situation!Torvald stared at his reflection through the mirror. Except, the reflection showed something much different. An human, monstrous figure; white and amorphous, dangerous and enormous, with a long protrusion gently nudging the dirty ceiling of the yacht's bathroom itself. He looked down at his white-gloved hands and pulled the stretchy waterproof latex, snapping it back with a crack.<< ONLY A SINGLE DOLLAR. AH YES, THE REVOLUTION SHALL CONTINUE ON THE FRUGAL. THERE IS NO NEED FOR EXCESSIVE MONEY SPENDING WHEN MONEY AND CAPITALISM SHALL FALL BY THE ETERNAL IRON HAMMER OF TIME AND SPACE. >>Torvald admired the giant shark suit he was wearing.The simple thought of having to go through the water made him shudder. He had sneaked onto the yacht before many of the others could have seen him, hugging a crinkly paper bag filled with the shark suit close to him like a well-used security blanket. This was a cheap relic of a party from Dough whatshisface's mayorhood, but the flotation properties of the giant shark suit were astounding; using it, he could easily swim around the water freely.This came at the disadvantage of having to waddle around in the thing. But no matter! Sacrifices must be made in the name of the revolution!Wearing the giant shark suit, Torvald exited the bathroom and continued his look for Kline. They had spent discussing their evidence for a while before packing things in, but -- as expected in a place that treats its working class as nothing better than horse manure -- not much honest information could be found regarding Bentley. No matter, no matter! What left Torvald sleepless last night was the fact that the little eyepatch girl had been scared away, and she did not seem to recover to his expectations. Torvald knew she was strong, but was she also so fragile at the surface?When he spotted Kline leaning by the railing, Torvald waddled over in his giant shark costume, careful to make sure nobody else noticed him at this moment.He stood next to Kline's other side, this giant shark, leaning on the railing just as casually as her and watching the waves go by. << CEASE REVOLUTION >>
It is okay, we have the moose patrols ready to stampede through Texas and claim the oil for the new province of Southern Alberta.
Guilmon. Wait.
Understandably so this Dragon's Blood Tree is on Socotra which is an island, part of Yemen, faaaaar from the coast. Because of this it has a good deal of unique flora. It would be a bit different if this were continental Yemen, even with the Hadramaut Valley.
{ 1 6 : 1 0 } xxxxxxTorvald played around with his fork as he listened to the others speak, swiveling it in a circle. << She works at the library, as a volunteer, >> he said to Erik, without taking his gaze away from the plate. << I do not know what incongruous anti-proletarian bourgeois riff-raff ridiculousness led her to what she has become, but whatever details happened those three years ago is making her scared to even see all of you again. >> He put his fork down, listening to the information that the blonde bourgeois puppet began spouting off. Well then -- it actually seemed a bit useful. << She is a widow? Ridiculous clap-traps and their capitalist privacies with marrying and remarrying ... But anyway-- >> He turned to Pierce, his gaze boring deep into the skittish girl's skull. He frowned and grimaced. << You have, perhaps the most valuable information out of all of us. Congratulate yourself, you deserve it. Do it. >> Torvald turned back to the others. << It is entirely possible there is a connection behind the enormous spike in people and the strange activity that occurred afterward. Unfortunately, we know little of this nine hundred and ninety-one mysterious citizens of the infinite revolution, and two years is too long a time for things to influence each other so strictly. >> He rapped the ends of his fingers on the table. << This does not mean there is no connection. This Sheffield fat-cat is suspicious enough, for contributing to the current state of Bentley's isolation. The widow of the late mayor influencing the candy shop is also a potential link ... >> << Right. >> Torvald picked up his fork again and grabbed some leftover peas off of Evan's plate. << We have a few pieces of the puzzle. We understand: >> He placed one pea on the plate. << There was a population spike in 2010. A point of interest. >> He placed another pea on the table. << In 2012, the late mayor perished in an accident before anything could happen. This is a point of interest. What happened in the two years is currently unknown to us. >> He placed a third pea on the table. << In 2012, the mayor Sheffield then assumed power. This is a point of interest. >> He placed a fourth pea on the table, but this time next to the second pea, creating a small "T". << Presumably around the same time, give or take a year or two, the woman Delilah, widow of the late mayor, married the candy shop owner. This candy shop would have not been so successful without either a large amount of sales or ... something else suspicious. If it is the latter, then the candy shop would have appeared after the migration of the 991 people. This is a point of interest. >> He placed a fifth and final pea on the table. << And in 2013, the Camp incident occurred, where you all enter Bentley and witness the supernatural future-telling girl, along with other ridiculous events. This is after all of these events. This is where we stand. >> << There is a clear connection, but it is muddled. What little we can gleaned from this is patchy, like a soggy red army banner left in the muds of revolutionary warfare. However, you claim that there are only reviews from outsiders of this particular candy store. << Bentley is a small town, and does not attract many visitors. This means its success in candy must come from economic prosperity ... or something else suspicious. >> Torvald said those words with a careful, deep tone. << It had a huge amount of candy from what you all say. Assuming it is economically prosperous, from a Marxist economic standpoint, this means that would only make sense if the other residents of the small town came often. However, there are reviews only from outsiders. This is a contradiction, and could only mean this: >> He placed his hands together. << There are no reviews from the locals, because the candy shop is an every day part of Bentley life -- or one of the many every day parts. Assuming it is pure economic prosperity that the shop is based on, this means that the candy shop, and potentially other shops, have a more-than-significant influence on the life of Bentley's citizens. >> Torvald looked back at the others. << For those of you who once visited. Tell me now. Was Bentley an active town? Was it relatively empty? How many people did you see? >> He felt an itch on the back of the neck. Kline, the bright girl, mentioned the Hansel and Gretel story. << What cantankerous capitalists of the worst top-hatted kind! Say that may be true, assuming that economic prosperity is not the reason for the shop's immense size. That would perhaps be the alternative option. This leaves us with two routes: the luring, or the economic prosperity. Both routes, however, converge in meaning that the candy shop holds influence over the life of Bentley's citizens. >> << Are we really ready to face what ever is waiting for us at Bentley? >> What? Did she really say that? Oh Marx's glorious beard ../ Torvald stood up, wide eyed, at the girl who was playing around with her food, walked over to her, and swiveled her around, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. His face was a deep crimson, and his lip began to tremble in frustration. ... He felt his heart rate drop, and he looked away just for a second, before re-establishing his face.<< Kline, >> He said gently, but his voice was loud enough for the others to hear. << Do you know what this revolution is about? It is about finding the truth. It is a certainly one of us may be in danger of losing our lives. It is entirely possible the events of three years ago will repeat themselves. But if we live in fear and false happiness -- go to beaches and forget about our friends who died under such mysterious causes -- >> Dammit, did he really call them friends? He bit his tongue, looking for words. << Then what would that make us? There is something deeper here. We are the only ones who can find out. Today you asked me if I believed in superstitions, or curses, or witchcraft, and the answer was a resounding no. What do I believe in? I believe well enough that everyone in this room is wrapped in a different kind of curse. A curse to fall to our own chaos, our own inabilities to say things or express them to others, our own false curiosities leading to deaths, our own ignorance or arrogance or ineptitude. And we are cursed to be the only ones who can deal with this, and preventing this to happen. This is the curse of humanity; this is the curse of the individual who chooses their own path. It is the burden of free will. >> He relaxed his grip.
Calm that rhetoric up there, lassies and laddies. This first post is beautiful and most of the other posts do not give it absolutely any justice.
{ 1 6 : 0 5 } xxxxxx<< Comrade Grant, I think I can speak for everyone when saying the library was very much a waste of time. >>Torvald had set his fork gently next to his knife on his messy plate. A few browned rosemary thorns found their home among tiny stains of grease and indiscriminate dark sauce. Beads of leftover potato chunks, not adequately mashed, dotted the sides of the yellowing porcelain. Torvald picked up his handkerchief and dabbed away near his mouth.<< I took a look at the Percival County census records with the gracious assistance of the good-hearted proletarian worker bee that is Miss Kline. >> He paused for effect. << There was something that would pique a hundred revolutions of glorified interest. >>He stood up. << A few of you have visited Bentley before, yes. From 2009 to 2010, the town's population jumped up an astonishing 991 people. This may very well be insignificant with the information we currently have at our disposal, but there has been a lack of concurrent record for why this jump happened. >> His cold tirade was dampened by his full stomach, and it cushioned his words. << It is a statistical anomaly, and we can only guess what happened. Perhaps a revolution. That is all. >>He sat back down and set aside his handkerchief. << Tomorrow I hope we may drive forth our revolution to find the truth by looking elsewhere. >><< One more thing.I met a young little revolutionary whom all of you seemed to forget about. Jenna gives her regards. >>
NIS is getting wackier with these Disgaea trailers each release.
But Macs still exist in 2013.
My tears. The ones of myth and legend are slowly returning.
Outsider post trying to understand inside joke but not being able to grasp it.
