The Wobbly Goblet Playground Options

[Darkness Eternal]

Vera heard out the possibly cause of death, and began to process a handful of different causes and scenarios. One was this one was killed by another of his kind, but that would yield more questions than answers and Vera wasn't feeling very investigative. She had no desire in spending time solving a mystery if there was no money to be made. Perhaps, if she was younger and more adventurous, but in these present times everything has a price.

Suicide was another potential reason. Many of the afflicted couldn't bear to live with themselves, so they sought to end their lives prematurely. She couldn't imagine they would have a peaceful death, for they could not age and often the only end for those creatures were violenent ones.

She looked at the sun, and then looked back at the dust. Last sunrise, maybe?

"Maybe this one took its own life," Vera said after a moment. "Some can't take the stress of surviving off the flesh and blood of overs. It gets to them, and they rather die than live an eternity of misery."

But she didn't dwell too much on it. A greater part of her said it was killed.

Vera looked at Kayla, and glanced casually at Aravi. "I'm heading to the cave. If this one got hit with the rays of the sun, then the others are safe in their cavern. If we corner them in their own lairs, we can deal a heavy blow. Flush them out into the open if we can or just drive a blade into their flesh.'

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Kayla cracked her knuckles absently. After a few breaths, she said to the other two women, "I think we should corner them. If we flush them out, they could find some shade and head to the inn, or find a nearby settlement."

She stared at the remains for a few seconds, then looked back at the other two. "What do you say?"

[King Coin]

"Let's get them," Aravi agreed. "Which way is the cave? North?"

[mALX]

Abiene was lost in thoughts of her own, and never responded. Maxical sat in uncomfortably still silence, not sure if movement would be a further disturbance to the inner turmoil the pretty Breton was obviously mulling over. It was a relief when Eyja sidled up and poked her in the back.

"Come on, my friend will be waiting."

With a quick apology to Abiene for disturbing her peace, Maxical slid quietly from the bench and followed Eyja down the side hill, then turning to follow the westerly winding road toward Chorrol.




This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 17 2013, 06:24 PM

[Grits]

Maxical murmured an apology and slipped away with her Nord friend.

Divines, thought Abiene, I’ve been so rude! I hope Maxical can forgive me.

The two women headed toward Chorrol.

Perhaps I can catch them on the road.

Abiene collected her things from the inn, cast a spell to quicken her steps, and hurried after them.

[Darkness Eternal]

Irvana yawned beneath the covers, nestled above a soft pillow. Her eyes opened, and she hastily discarder the silk cover and swung over the side of the bed. Sitting down, she rubbed her eyes and blinked. She had her rest, and it was good. She was restored to health by a day’s long slumber.

She looked at herself on the vanity and marveled at the sight; her skin seemed moist, radiant, a veil of black hair falling down the sides. Unlike the sight of a woman who was attacked by bloodthirsty vampires.

The room remained unchanged since she last saw many hours ago. The tablecloth was still stained with wine, and a small bottle stood half empty among used spoons and bowls. Despite his love for a clean enviornment, Hethilion no doubted must respect the privacy of the tavern's patrons. This did not bother her at all.

With a fresh mind, she flexed her fingers and headed over to the door. She unlocked it, and opened it and peeked outside. She couldn’t hear too many commotion going on, and the distant sounds of crickets told her it was already night time.

Irvana stepped out of her room, and headed downstairs dressed in a fresh draping made of burgundy linen that was provided for her before her bath. Gold-trimmed shoes comfortably clothes her feet as she made each step.

She walked down the stairs, her hand sliding on the armrest as she looked about for who might be working at this time.

“Hello?” She called.

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: Jun 19 2013, 11:59 PM

[mALX]

The strangest sounding footsteps she had ever heard caused Maxical to spin around, then gape at the sight of the Breton woman Abiene as she sped toward them. Maxical had never seen anyone move so fast, and stopped short to watch.

"How did you do that? Is it a spell? Can you teach me?"

Eyja groaned. "Use it on me even once and it'll be the last time you are able to cast for a while."

Maxical flushed beet red. She actually had pictured Eyja barreling down the road instead of her slow stroll that always caught the men's eyes. Still, it would be funny to use in town and see people galloping around.





This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 20 2013, 05:41 PM

[Grits]

Abiene, on the Black Road

Abiene brushed a stray curl out of her eyes. “I’d be happy to teach you, Maxical. It’s an apprentice level spell to fortify a person’s speed, though I often use it under a veil of invisibility at times when dashing through the streets might raise an eyebrow. I’ve used it since my university days. Otherwise I’d always be running late.” She smiled up at Maxical’s friend. “Also it helps me keep up with long-legged Nords. Are you two walking to Chorrol? May I join you?”

Abiene reached out to give Maxical’s arm a quick squeeze. “I apologize for my poor manners earlier. I let my thoughts overtake me.”

[Grits]

Auguste

Lleris cleared the last of the plates away. Auguste wiped the bar, checking his remaining customers to be sure they all had something in their cups.

“Dancing Day is a Breton vanity,” Bograk declared, continuing their argument.

Auguste glanced over at his employer. She stood with her arms crossed and a tankard in one hand. Her expression was unreadable but her tone conveyed mounting annoyance.

“We could bring it to County Chorrol as a new traditional,” said Auguste. “We already have the tents, and Laegon could provide the music. You could sell all of the ale in the cellar, I’d wager.”

Bograk snorted. “The tents just dried out from Mid-Year Celebration, and we won’t be getting more ale until the end of next week. What would you pour until then if I let you empty the barrels in one night? There’s more to running an inn than picking up the coins that are right in front of you.”

Auguste ground his teeth. She isn’t completely wrong, he admitted. It was hard to take lessons from an orc.

“Bring this up to me again Rain’s Hand next,” she said. “Then Riad will have time to place an order.” Bograk dropped a heavy hand onto his shoulder. “And remember we’ll host a fair for Merchant’s Festival. That should bring in travelers and locals alike.”

Auguste tried not to stagger under her reassuring gesture. “Yeah.”

“Hello?” came a voice from the stairs.

It was Irvana.

[Darkness Eternal]

Irvana stepped down the stairs at the noise of voices. As she climbed down with a carefully measured pace, she saw the tavern's workers there together. The Breton, the Orc and the Dunmer. No immediete sign of Stefania, however.

She brushed aside a rogue strand of black hair, and walked up the bar with a charming smile as she greeted everyone around her. "Evening."

She said as she took a seat at the front of the bar, and set her hands delicately upon it. For the fraction of a moment when coming down the stairs she seized up the workers there once more, as she did the night before. An insconspicious analysis, as she called it.

The Orc woman might have had the largest hands Irvana remembers seeing. It was large enough to fit around the throat of a man. The club at her side was a menacing weapon for one's eye to look upon it. It was made of wood, and dressed with metal rims brandishing sharp spiked that could easily puncture the skin of one, and kill them in one fierce blow. But would an Orc woman use such violence? Only if nescessary. Irvana was aware that a club could also be used in a non-fatal way such as using the very head of it to knock an unruly patron unconscious. Nevertheless, it was quite the weapon.

Not something I would personally use, she reflected. Plenty of ways to kill or maim someone . . .

The Breton man was there also, and he had a habit of constantly wiping the bar. He didn't seem all that tired, and Irvana suspected he either drank potions to keep himself working, or he must have taken a bit of rest in the morning or in the early afternoon. From what Stefania told her, perhaps not every worker here worked all day. Only few taverns allow such a thing.

The Dunmer was an odd one. Irvana remembered seeing him last night when she came in. He still had that wide-eyed look about him, as if he'd drank a dose of skooma. Unlike the Orc, who had that imposing look that could frighten off grown men, the Dunmer seemed cheerful and happy.

Irvana smiled to them, showing a set of white teeth that made her face shine with sympathy. "How does the night find you?" she asked no one in particular.

[mALX]

Maxical flushed in embarrassment. "I'm the one that should apologize. I disturbed your thoughts. It's just...you kind of looked sad, I thought you might want them disturbed. I'd love to learn the spell if you don't mind, being able to move faster would be a big help to me."

She poked Eyja in the side. "Eyja, this is Abiene. She is a friend of Jerric's."

Eyja seemed to make a point of visibly sizing up Abiene, then tried to mitigate the offense by giving one of her cheeky grins and hiking one eyebrow at the pretty Breton. "Are you the healer I'm supposed to be finding? I seem to have contracted a few unwanted passengers from my stay at the Gray Mare, you wouldn't happen to have a cure for that, would you?"

Maxical gasped and turned beet red, taking a leap back from Eyja that put her a good distance away. "Dear gods! Wait, I thought you said you were staying with a friend? What were you doing at the Gray Mare?"





This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 23 2013, 05:13 PM

[Grits]

Abiene

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” said Abiene. “Sometimes I just have one of those sad kinds of faces.”

Maxical introduced her friend, and Eyja looked Abiene over as if taking measurements. Competition, or is she interested?

Before Abiene could really start to wonder, the Nord gave her a disarming grin. “Are you the healer I'm supposed to be finding? I seem to have contracted a few unwanted passengers from my stay at the Gray Mare, you wouldn't happen to have a cure for that, would you?”

Abiene opened her mouth and then closed it again, afraid she would laugh. It was too soon to guess at this woman’s sense of humor. And Nords were admittedly more prone to body parasites than other races. She may not be jesting.

Maxical leaped away as if she had been scalded. “Dear gods! Wait, I thought you said you were staying with a friend? What were you doing at the Gray Mare?”

“Oh my,” said Abiene. “Are the passengers external? A mild shock spell should do the trick, and then I’d be happy to heal any remaining irritation. A potion with a slight shock effect would also be effective. I’m afraid I don’t have one on me, though. Shall I shock you? It’s not a healing spell, but… well if you know Jerric then I don’t need to explain.” Abiene felt her face heat. That sounds like I’m confessing something. “I mean, not that I’ve ever— That is to say, I’ve had some practice—” Abiene had a sudden thought. “Wait, is Jerric at the Gray Mare?”

[mALX]

*

Maxical:

Maxical gaped at Abiene's jumbled medley of half sentences, it sounded like Maxical herself did when she had a guilty conscience. What was that all about? When the girl faltered to a stop Maxical broke in before Eyja could respond, holding her hand up and straight out as if trying to ward evil spirits from herself. "WAIT! If you shock them off her, aren't they going to jump on us?"

Eyja's lack of embarrassment about her condition was evident by her peal of laughter, but she was obviously just as intrigued as Maxical by Abiene's confused speech. The difference was that Eyja seemed to have come to some conclusion over it. Her eyes had flickered an instant understanding and then amusement after Abiene's last blurted question about Jerric.

Eyja's eyelids dropped halfway over her eyes in a sleepy way that put her at her most sultry look, the one that made Maxical's stomach feel like butter melting. It was the look Eyja always used when she was trying to get information from someone, why was she using it on Abiene? The girl had already told her how to get rid of those critters.

Eyja raised one of her mobile eyebrows twice rapidly at Abiene, then gave her an even longer and slower appraisal than she had on first meeting her. She covered a fake cough, and in a voice that sounded too innocent to be believed she asked Abiene, "Is Jerric a tallish Nord?"

Maxical gaped at Eyja, wishing she could throw a bucket of water on her. Why was she acting that way?

Eyja glanced at Maxical's aghast expression and brayed out a laugh, then gave Abiene one of her boyish grins that just missed being contrite and made a lie of her apology. "Sorry. Just playing around. A man that rode into the stables just now challenged me that I couldn't make you blush. Scaring Maxical was just a bonus."


*

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 26 2013, 09:45 AM

[Grits]

Abiene

Abiene laughed, bringing her palms up to feel her cheeks. “It’s not easy to make a healer blush, but you did it!”

Eyja had one of those smiles that promised more mischief. Abiene felt her troubles lifting. Maxical and her friend were lively company.

“Anyway, all of you Nords are tall to me. You’d know if you’d met Jerric. The first thing he’d say is ‘I’m Jerric.’ And he’d be looking right here. He’d introduce himself to your bosom.”

Abiene kept her focus on Eyja’s twinkling eyes to keep herself from making the same blunder.

“Will you be in Chorrol long? Are you really staying at the Mare? I’ve heard folk say there’s something shady going on at the Oak and Crosier, but I have no idea what they mean. It seems like a nice place to me.”

[mALX]

*

Eyja grinned, indicating Abiene’s flushed cheeks. “I just earned a Septim the easy way.”

“Dear gods, Eyja!” The heat rose in Maxical’s cheeks too, but instead of the maidenly blush Abiene had achieved her entire face reddened to a shade a tomato might hope to achieve.

Since Eyja’s blouse was deliberately low cut to display as much of her huge breasts as possible without baring them completely, Maxical could readily believe Jerric (or any other man that crossed their path) wouldn’t be the able to stop staring at them. Eyja readily confirmed Maxical’s thought aloud to Abiene.

“That wouldn’t make him different from any other man I’ve met, I’ll need a better description than that.” Eyja gave her cheekiest grin.

Maxical moved back in closer and dug her elbow into Eyja‘s side. “No wonder they look. That blouse is so low cut it looks like someone is bent over mooning on your chest. They’re probably all just watching in anticipation that one wrong movement would reveal everything.” She turned to Abiene.

“I’ve heard that about the Oak and Crosier too! Eyja and I overheard two men talking about it not an hour ago outside the Inn. They said some thief had broken in there and when he was arrested he fell on his knees and thanked the guards for rescuing him. He said something evil was in the basement.”

Eyja nodded agreement at Abiene. ”They said originally it was a man that bought the Oak and Crosier decades ago, and the Publican who runs it now was just hired to wait tables. Next thing you know she's working behind the bar, and not long after that they married. Then shortly..."

Maxical interrupted. "Then the owner just up and disappeared soon after they wed!"

Eyja dug her meaty elbow into Maxical’s side. “Quit interrupting!” She turned back to Abiene. "He supposedly went away on a business trip over a decade ago and never returned. The Legion...”

“They think she killed him and buried him in the basement!” Maxical interjected.

Eyja covered Maxical's mouth tightly with one hand. “The Legion sent in one of their top investigators pretending to be a traveling merchant. After the Publican went to sleep he searched the place. When the investigator went into the basement he said...”

Maxical yanked the hand off her mouth and broke in. “He said the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he got a real creepy feeling, like it was haunted down there...OW! Let go of my ponytail!”

"But the investigator couldn't find any evidence." Eyja finished, then released Maxical's ponytail.

"HMPH!" Maxical flipped her freed ponytail to the other side so Eyja couldn't reach it, then turned back to Abiene. "I won't be caught dead at the Gray Mare. I heard they really do have fleas in their beds, and no bathing facilities. Eyja said her friend who lives in Chorrol will let me stay with them. I'm kind of low on Septims right now."


*

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 27 2013, 11:50 PM

[Darkness Eternal]

"Just fine," the Orc woman replied to Irvana. The others returned the same, but in different words. It seemed the night was the same old night they had for days. People come and go, they serve, and chat and tease and make plans amongst themselves. It ws tranquil. There was none of that loud tavern noises that Irvana came to know few times in the course of her life. This was much more soothing and friendly, and it suited her just fine. The less violence, the better.

"How are you feeling?"

Irvana turned her gaze to the Breton man. She smiled and sucked her lips in. "Better. Much better."

And then she remembered that the two women were absent. Their presence was non-existant. They were still on the hunt . . . or worse. Irvana couldn't imagine two vampire hunters slain by a pack of shrieking beasts that dwelled in those caverns but then again numbers can be overwhelming. The thought of losing them would be most . . . unbearable.

Before any of them could respond to words of improved condition, she added. "The two women. Have you heard from them?"

"Three women. The blond Imperial woman with the temper went with them."

Ah . . .

"No," the Breton said again. "They haven't returned. I'm guessing they're still out there."

That or they are sitting in plates . . . Irvana thought with a bit of regret, but out loud she said. "I hope they're safe."

"I do too," the Dunmer chimed in. "I believe they'll come back in one piece."

If they do, I hope they were succesful in executing the task.

Irvana nodded in silent agreement.

The topic brought too many negativity, and Irvana didn't feel like sticking on the topic of death for too long. Only time would tell if they came back alive, not speculation. The inn had much more to worry about.

Like, say, plans for the festival?

"I overheard you were thinking of bringing in a festival to the county," she looked at the Breton. "Red Prince Atryck's holiday would be a wonderful merriment brought to this side of Cyrodiil! I had family who spent time in High Rock and they told me so much about it. The influx of foreign people from the neighboring provinces was overwhelming. I can help sponser such an event if you truly seek to do it."

There was a bit of the girlish happiness in her voice, but she still composed herself as a mature woman. Though she didn't want to admit that she was indeed too excited to see such an event come to pass. That would be simply delightful.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Ah, Chorrol.

Stefan LeRoi took a deep breath of the clean air and stood a moment in the moonlight to appreciate the sensations he was experiencing.

The breeze caressing my skin like that of a gentle, warm maiden's trembling hands. The rustling of the soft grasses as the wind-maiden ran her loving fingers through the hairs of the earth. Her sweet breath before she laid a gentle kiss on my lips. The-

The sound of a throat clearing from behind him pulled him from his reverie. He opened his eyes and sighed, giving the woman behind him a mournful look, his dark brows knitting together.

"Must you interrupt me? It's Stefan time at the moment."

The woman behind the red cowl did not speak, only looked at him. Her light blue eyes regarded him not quite coldly, but there was little warmth behind them. Stefan often appreciated the way the leather armor hugged her body, but without knowing how her face looked, he often stopped himself from pulling the armor off in his mind.

"Shiva, one day your incessant chatter will drive me mad!" he said. She stayed silent, only staring at him. He sighed and began walking down the road, talking the whole way.

"I've got an idea for my latest book." His thick green cape rustled against a stray patch of grass as they walked down the road toward The Wobbly Goblet. Shiva stayed silent.

"Of course I'll tell you what it is. I'm so glad you asked!" He shot her a white-toothed grin, the one that disarmed many a woman in many a town. Shiva's eyes looked about instead, an odd glow in them.

She has her detect spell on. He thought. He continued anyways.

"It's about a group of friends that spend their childhood together, but an awful creature takes their memories from them when they leave the town. The twist? The creature has been feasting on the children of the town for hundreds of years. I'm going to set it nearby. I wonder if the people of Hackdirt will want to collect royalties if I use their town as inspiration."

Shiva said nothing, only cast a spell to illuminate the road ahead. Stefan again, for the umpteenth time since traveling with her, wondered what race she was. She wasn't tall enough to be a high elf, but not small enough to be a wood elf. He figured she was human, but one could never tell.

They came upon the inn, and Stefan passed the stables, as he had no horse, and threw the doors of the inn open, a wide grin on his face.

"Greetings! I desire a meal from this establishment." He sat on the barstool as Shiva took her usual place in the corner, keeping an eye out for trouble. Stefan nodded and gave a charming grin at the young raven-haired Imperial woman. She looked to be in her early twenties with a smooth face and delightfully plump lips.

"Hello." He purred. "Might I ask what your name is, my raven-haired goddess?"

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Jul 1 2013, 04:08 AM

[Darkness Eternal]

Irvana was about to get a response when the front door had opened wide, and a tousled-hair man entered along with a red-robed woman that Irvana had trouble discerning her race for a moment. She had clear azure eyes that stared from an inspective face.

The man on the other hand was handsome, and wore distinct green attire that covered his body. He was human, and Irvana could guess he was an Imperial. He had the gait of a fellow with dreams, and a charmer at best. Irvana turned her attention from the two newcomers and set her eyes on the menu.

The night does bring in an array of characters . . . she wondered if people feared traveling the night now as they did many, many years ago. With all the dangerous out and about, the safest time to go would be during the day. The most malicious of creatures seem to favor the night, and only the darkest of people like witches and necromancers took to liking the dark.

But she could see that the man and the woman were simply two travelers. And by his words she could see he was very hungry, but as he approached her with that smile on his face and took a seat beside her, Irvana knew from then on that maybe this man wanted more than just food.

He fixed his eyes on her and nodded, giving her a charming smile that confirmed her initial suspicion. She’d come across many of his kind during her years, and her appearance only made them flock in like flies to the flame. Additionally, she had her own relative that was a bit of a hot-headed womanizer, though more subtle.

This one, however, went full on his seductive attempts as he gazed at her lips and smiled. Irvana did not flinch for a second, as she also studied the man. Everything about him, and after her eyes registered everything did she allow herself a slight smile, though it was more of a smirk.

He greeted her, and asked her what her name was. Irvana felt her shields go up, as natural instinct. His white-toothed smile was of course stellar, and Irvana was sure many women would be swayed. She flicked a rogue strand of black hair aside, and returned a smile that was equally as charming.

“You do me too much honor. I am no goddess,” Irvana said, and addewith a forced emphasis on her last word. “But I am flattered.”

She extended a cold hand to the man. “Irvana. And by what name do you go by?"

[Black Hand]

Ten years. The Dunmer thought to himself walking down the dusty road north to Chorrol,as he nursed a sealed urn that contained the reason he was here.

His feet began to feel the distance that had brought him here, as his eyes took in an inn near the Weynon Priory.

Don't remember that place.

For some reason his direction started to pull him there, he could smell the reason why as he neared. Burning logs, and the delectable smell of mutton that he hadn't had in over a decade. Guar, nix-hound, and other Vvardenfell creatures were fine, but they didn't compare to the tastes of home.

Perhaps less chance of being recognized here, anyways. Didn't come up this far, or this west a whole lot. He recalled his days of banditry ashamedly.

Probably think I'm an Ashlander anyways. He further thought, only to realize that he alone would probably know what that was anyways. Or just some Morrowind native... He realized the irony of the statement.

His loose, flowing garb was indeed traditional Morag Tong armor and clothing. He realized that perhaps made him a target for the local Brotherhood. He didn't care. The contents of the urn had once been a member as well. Though he wasn't the one who took it's life, he had taken the lives of plenty of other members.

But he was tired now. He wasn't here too fight, only to grieve and honor the fallen. Let come what may.

As he approached the outskirts of the Inn, a younger looking Bosmer approached him with a beaming smile.

"Good Afternoon, Sir! Welcome to the Wobbly Goblet! I'm Lowren! I'm the stablehand here, if you need anything with horses, come see me!" he started. "Uhh..do you have a horse?" He asked.

"I am..Velas...err, Sethyas. Seth is fine, if you prefer. No, I'm afraid I do not own a horse." he replied, not losing the stoic expression, realizing just how far he had actually walked.

"Well, Inn's up there, plenty of folk, food and drink right now,...if you got the coin." he smiled.

Money was the last of his concerns, as he returned the smile ever so slightly. "Sounds good."

He walked past an Argonian tending to one of the gardens, and the man stood up; stretching his back, as Sethyas passed. He gave him that neutral, calm gaze that all the Black Marsh natives seemed to possess, and nodded ever so slightly. The Dunmer returned the nod, and hoped his attire didn't offend or give the wrong message. He had freed many slaves and worked adamantly against it's institution since he was sent there. Then again, perhaps he was finally free from these misconceptions and barbaric practices while he was here.

Entering the Inn proper, he took in the residents and patrons as they did him before going about setting towards his aim. Ordering food and a room.

An Orsimer maiden approached him, introducing herself as Bograk gra-Mugshak. "I'm the proprietor of the Inn, play nice as Arbiter don't" She said bringing a hand to the very menacing club's handle, and giving an eye to his bowset and various blades.

He was so used to carrying them it didn't dawn on him that they perhaps sent a message where none was intended, he simply nodded and asked for the bill of fare and raised an eyebrow in appreciation to its selection.

"Most certainly the roast mutton, and some Tamika’s West Weald White, please." he requested. "Plus, a room for the night, if one is available." He said, as he produced a small coin bag, and produced the amount required with a small but appropriate tip.

Finally, he settled into a small table and waited for his order.

[mALX]

Maxical:

Eyja's head swiveled to follow the progress of a Dunmer man with an intriguing face tatoo as he made his way up to the door of the inn. "I just remembered something I meant to get at the inn."

Maxical glanced from Eyja's obvious target of interest to Abiene. The girl seemed lost in a fog of thought. Whatever was troubling her, she was too distracted to be walking alone; even if it was just the short distance to the Chorrol gates.

"Go on ahead, I'm going to escort Abiene. I think she is going to the Mages Guild in Chorrol. I'll probably be there whenever you are ready for me."

"The two of us together are a bit much for anyone this time of the morning." Eyja grinned. She gave Abiene a brief nod that went unnoticed, then set back off in the direction of the inn.

Maxical took Abiene's arm a bit protectively. "Come, Abiene. Let me help you get where you are going. Looks like you aren't well right now, I'll see you get there safely."

This post has been edited by mALX: Jul 13 2013, 09:04 PM