Name: Dhaos Age: Appears: mid 20s Actual: over 2000 years old Gender: Male Height: 5’11” Body Type: Slender Weapon of Choice: fonic artes (he doesn’t seem to have an actual weapon besides...and unleash it upon the world - To recreate the technology that created him before he dies - To see his goal of giving replicas the superior place in society they deserve, as the only ones who exist.

...his hand. He has dark elemental fonic artes, which are amplified by his sorcerer's ring. Buuut again, he doesn't use this often. relationships primary player info Mun Name: Taco E-mail: britishmoo[at]gmail[dot]com Out of Character Journal: tacos_of_doom Messengers: AIM - fonic melodist Age: Twenty-one. Times...

...characters, where she lets her emotions get the best of her, and doesn't always make the best decisions battle-wise. relationships primary player info Mun Name: Taco E-mail: britishmoo[at]gmail[dot]com Out of Character Journal: tacos_of_doom Messengers: AIM - fonic melodist Age: Twenty-one. Times...

...seventh fonon to heal the injuries of others. She's a dutiful healer, and can also use light-based artes (like Photon). relationships primary player info Mun Name: Taco E-mail: britishmoo[at]gmail[dot]com Out of Character Journal: tacos_of_doom Messengers: AIM - fonic melodist Age: Twenty-one. Times...

...fonon-based attacks do, but her physical attacks with the broom do have a tendency to hit and cause at least a little bit of pain. relationships primary player info Mun Name: Taco E-mail: britishmoo[at]gmail[dot]com Out of Character Journal: tacos_of_doom Messengers: AIM - fonic melodist Age: Twenty-one. Times...

I'm sitting in the middle of the classroom, and class has begun.  The teacher is away, so she has charged me with taking this lesson.  I look at the material in front of me.  I have never read it before...who is standing close to me asks "Do you feel that you're being disrespected?"  I realize that I'm actually ok with this, and that soon the students will have their juice, and we can continue.

I'm standing in the hallway of the old Elementary School.  I realize that I am going to be late for my appointment with my old french teacher.  I study a poster-board with student artwork as I call her...probably be too icy to board down the hill, and as if to prove this, I start sliding around on the soles of my shoes.  I climb the top of the hill, and slide all the way down, rotating as I go.