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Efarilahn

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Everything posted by Efarilahn

  1. People actually understand references like that? Dang, I haven't even read DeathNote, and that still sounds like a great idea to steal. So long as it's dark chocolate.
  2. Elka here... I definitely dressed up as Hester Prynne for a party, but nothing more than that. It would be awesome, but terribly embarrassing to do a 'cosplay'. (btw, what is the definition of 'cosplay'? Elka isn't quite sure)
  3. It does look like fun, but I'd be too embarrassed to go where anyone I knew could see me. *headdesk*
  4. Efarilahn

    MAGIKARP used SPLASH!

    I'd bet my luccky socks the goldfish have a splash BSA that does nothin.
  5. oy! Ripley is offended! I like all of these new dragons. The ter ones look like deer to me. ^^ I LOVE they way that deer look. They're so graceful and delicate!
  6. HAHA my twin did that with her Fuzzy Heart.
  7. 31! I just got the swan egg, so I'm a happy camper, but there's one more GORGEOUS patterned one (sorta like the dark blue and gold one, but red) that I reeeeeally want!
  8. I do hate responses like that. However (OMG improper use of however!!! It's not after a semicolon!), I get sort of annoyed when I'm in roleplays that demand posts that are over a page or so, and expected to be crammed full of detail. There's a point at which I honestly do not want to read the million and one adjectives that Roleplayer Suzy came up with to describe that gorgeous sunset, or the quality of Gary Stu's sigh. But I digress. On a completely irrelevant topic, I'm often surprised by how authors use (or don't use) grammar in their work. Has anyone here read Toni Morrison's Beloved? I find chapter 22 really interesting in that regard.
  9. And I agree with you. ^^ I only annoy people about things like that in formal essays (not in formal narrative writing). Geez, Rhea. >.> Speaking of formal, I hope that essay wasn't supposed to be.
  10. What is OP? . ^ What you posted. (OMG GAIZ IZZA sentence fragment) ^ My boring response.
  11. First off, it's "challenge", not "challange". >.> Of course I use the Oxford comma. It sounds right. I can be a bit of a grammarian, I suppose. Too bad it doesn't help in school work anymore. Using proper English because expected after a time. *sighs* Maybe I helps in el bano, though. *snickers* I edit the ****py poetry that soppy emos write in the bathroom stalls.
  12. I had some dream last night about being in some place underground, except it looked like Montana, and there were wild horses running around. Then it went silent, and I was walking alone next to these massive rock formations. The only sounds were those of my footsteps. It became dark, and I reached a railroad, which led to a door. I went through, walked through a passage filled with cobwebs, and stepped out into the sunlight. I blinked for a bit, before realizing that I was in some village place. It looked sort of like a set for a spaghetti Western, except it was rather medieval, and James Bond was sitting in some saloon with a couple of Bond Girls. Ignoring them, I walked purposefully up to a house, and knocked on the door. A frazzled woman opened the door and ushered me inside. I knew her, apparently. It was weird. She explained to me about how the village was having a drought, and there was no water for them to use for anything. I raised my eyebrow; I had seen lots of water in the place with the wild horses. She knew what I was thinking, and explained that there was a monster of some sort that lived there, and that it killed anyone who went it. I began to laugh; she seemed insane. I had been there many times, and I knew that there was not monster of any sort. Then, her son, a guy a little older than me, walked up behind me (scaring me half to death- I wasn’t expecting to see him) and confirmed what she said. I snorted and said that they were nutters. I would go in there and bring back some water to prove that it was safe. Confident as ever, I strolled towards the doors to where I knew the place with the wild horses was. There were four, which confused me. They were all quite large, but the two middle ones were massive, with cast iron designs on them (odd, I thought- they didn’t match the decorating style of the village- plus, they were covered with ivy, which was non-native). I remembered there being only one. The son, who had followed me, told me that they all went to the same place, but that only one would open for me. A different door would open for a different person, and I had to choose the proper door to go through. I just asked the doors which one was mine, and one opened. It was one of the large ones. However, the opening was actually very small, and full of spider webs. A bit disgusting I marched forward, hacking at the webs with a machete that randomly appeared in my hand (dreams… they never make sense ). There weren’t any spiders in the webs, and they came apart like mist. Then I saw two glowing eyes in front of me, off to the right. I called out, tentatively, wondering who it might be (for some reason, I wasn’t at all scared ). Not surprisingly, I got no answer. Striding forwards, undaunted by the creepiness of everything, I saw that I was in some place that looked a bit like a wine cellar, only there were huge jugs of water (I knew it was water- once again, dreams are weird) rather than bottles of wine. Some creepy trollish goblin thing sat atop a large vase, leering at me. I said something like, “So, you’re the monster. I was hoping for something a bit more impressive. Oh, well. Lay on, Macduff.” So there I was, ready with my magic-randomly-appearing-machete-thing, and there it was, sitting there apparently unarmed. And then all of a sudden, it shot my wrist with some sort of dart thing (my mind was remembering the yellowjackets), and I, enraged, charged it. Rather than having some epic battle, the thing just fell apart. It was made of clay, like the jugs. I wheeled around, looking for it, believing it had tricked me, but all I saw was a large horse. He was standing farther down in the ‘wine cellar’, silhouetted in the light of the place like Montana. I heard yelling behind me, and the son, followed by a pack of the village people, descended upon me, all congratulating me on the killing of the monster. I said it was really rather easy, and that the thing was pathetic. They were kind of getting in my face, and I felt really uncomfortable and claustrophobic. Looking down, I noticed that the dart thing was still in my arm, and I yanked it out and threw it on the ground. I was going to say something to the son person, but then I totally fainted all over the place (I remember wondering if the goblin dude had poison darts, once again, a throwback to the yellowjacket incident). Really lame. And I woke up. EDIT: Oh dear. That's rather long.
  13. Xantara, a pebble Antonio Jose, a black Mekaka, a vine Rachmaninov, a mint
  14. Enchanted Dil, "Lady Stalker"? "Frilled Bouncy"? Not exactly your typical cheesy, sweet little names. Most of mine would count as bad... Heck, I have one named "That's an Awful Name".