20th May 2011 - Progress!

Hey Internet,

How's it going? You well? Good, good. Or, if it's bad, that's terrible. Know what it is, insert the most appropriate response.

Few things, on a couple of Fronts:

Firstly, I am done my GCSE Modules. I swear to God, they can burn in the Inferno for all I care. I despise you, work. I still have In-House Exams to go... Fucking A... /Sarcasm

Secondly, I have been doing some work as a Let's Player! This is more exciting than the first post, but whatever. I've been playing Saint's Row 2 and Mount and Blade: Warband. I'd like to think I'm alright. You should go look.

My Channel is Inquisitor023. Favourite, Subscribe, Comment, Like, whatever suits. You lot probably know the drill.

Moving on.

I've done very little writing, as of late, but I have just made some progress on the planned DnD piece. It's one hundred words or so thus far, but it seems an alright start. Lemme know what you all think.

Here it is:

In the human Kingdom of Thoravidan, there lies a mighty forest and within that, a disused campsite. Once a frequent stop for travellers, the constantly shifting borders of the Kingdoms of Man had caused the campsite to fall to the wayside. While the ground used to be smooth from the feet of many travellers, now it was brambly. Where the grasp of nature was kept at bay through near constant use, Melora had reclaimed her prize. The creatures of the forest, large and small, had re-established their homes. The fires, which were once burning nigh-eternal, was a burnt-out husk. A faded memory. 

It's a start. Better than before (No Progress).

That's really about all I got.

I got Killing Floor the other day. A very good game. Me, Nich and Ossai (two of the three people I RP with, the other being Emily) are planning on doing some actual gameplay videos, along with a review. Watch for that on the WarlordsonBears channel.

For those of you who don't know, WarlordsonBears is the LP Team me, Nich, Emily and Ossai have created together. We should be getting content around Summer Time or when Nich gets his Mic fixed. Whichever comes first. Soon, though.

What else... Not much, really. Listening to Music, living, stuff like that.

Ah well, there's your update.

Later 'Net,

Dan

May 05 2011

Hello Internet.

Today is May 5th 2011 and not a lot has happened. I got my hands on Mount and Blade: Warband and I've spent the last two nights playing away. It's a lot of fun, I must say. Combat System takes getting used to and it isn't the prettiest game, but I can lose so much time in it.

Sadly, I lost my entire Army just there. :(

I just put up two Shorts for you all tonight - Death Before Dishonour (Which I credit as my best Descriptive Piece) and Fate of Flame (Which I credit as my best Combat Piece). I'd love to see you all give it a read and leave me your thoughts. I'd also like to discuss a concept I currently have:

The Piece takes place in the DnD (Dungeons and Dragons, for those who don't know) Universe I, Nich, Emily and Ossai RP's in and it will follow our four characters: Kriv the Dragonborn Paladin of Kord, Eddard the Human Classless Whelp, Wade the Human Warlock and Durgrim the Dwarf Warrior.

Now, the plan is as thus: The four are resting at a handmade camp-site for the night. They're sitting around the fire and, to kill time, they discuss stories - looking to tell one they hadn't heard. Now, as a note: Kriv is extremely uneducated for races beyond Dragonborn, so he knows none of the stories they bring up. However, they know nothing of his race. So he offers to tell them the story of the Bladequeen: Akra Iyotar.

The story's pretty simple. She grew up in Kriv's clan, long before he was born, and she hated not being able to fight. So, she left. She attracted people to fight alongside her and, soon, she had a Company of Men, Elves, Dwarves and all races fighting under the banner of her Silver Blade.

Now, Kriv tells of how she never failed a Contract but was no Bandit. She fought with Honour. It's clear Kriv admires her, even though she doesn't follow Kord.

So, he then tells of one specific contract. She and her Company had to assist her Employer's army to seize a Keep. Her specific task was to kill the Lord in charge, to help rout the Army.

So, they stormed the Gates and ran on. They reached the Castle and her Company raced ahead. They fought their way in and, Akra ended up ahead. Her Company was behind her. She moved as the sound of battle crashed in her ears.

She found her way to a large pair of doors. She knew her Mark was in here. However, a runner appeared. The Company was being butchered as Reinforcements arrived.

Now, she had the choice - Kill the Man and leave her Company, her Kin, to die? Or leave her Mark and save her Company?

They ask what she did. Kriv answers he does not know, but he wants to find out.

That's, pretty much, the plot. There's a lot of holes to fill. I'll burn those bridges when I get there.

My main question is how to begin. I see two main possibilities.

I could, on one hand, start simply 'Kriv [yadda yadda description]'. While easiest to do, it doesn't flow well.

The other choice is the more complex 'Of Mice And Men' approached I picture. Essentially, I describe the 'Camp Site' and then have Kriv appear. I describe him as he looks around and then I add in the others, describing them.

I'm tempted to go for the Of Mice and Men approach, but I'm unsure.

Anyway, I've rambled.

Take it easy,
Dan

Fate of Flame [40K - Short Story

“There are more of us, Witch,” the Marine spat, blood filling his mouth as he crawled backwards; “You cannot hope to win.”

“I’ve heard this a thousand times, Mon-Keigh,” Autarch Cait Maniok of the Yme-Loc Craftworld spat, drawing her Power Sword and thrusting it into the Space Marine’s chest. The Marine yelled in pain before the light from the lenses of his helmet faded and his head fell back.

Cait looked around. The ground, once green, was a black, burnt ruin. Bodies littered the earth for as far as the eye could see, Human and Eldar both, and the burnt out wreckage of vehicles was a regular sight. Cait sighed and began to walk towards the rest of the Host.

“You are wounded, Autarch,” Exarch Maiaera pointed out, stepping into line beside her.

Cait stopped and looked down. Maiaera was right. Her ornate armour, in the style of the Howling Banshees, was splattered with blood, chipped and scratched. The Power Sword in her hand was slick with red human blood. In addition, blood was pouring from a cut in her right thigh.

“Damned Mon-Keigh,” Cait muttered, stopped to examine the wound. The flesh was torn, clearly from a Chainsword. The Marine Sergeant, Cait concluded. She thought her Force-field took that blow... She was wrong, clearly.

“Would you like some help?” Maiaera asked, offering a hand. Cait looked up. Maiaera wore a full suit of Exarch Banshee armour, her mask a terrifying spectacle to behold.

Cait took the hand, “Thank you, Exarch,” Cait smiled behind her own Banshee Mask, “But I shall survive.” 

Maiaera nodded and turned sharply. “I heard something,” she said, beginning to pace forwards, ducking low, her Mirror Swords now in hand and shining slightly. The remainder of her Squad followed suit, gripping Power Blades and Shuriken Pistols. Cait gripped her own Blade in a two-handed stance and began to move forward.

“Targets in sight,” a voice said softly, “Brother Fatem, do you have a target?”

“Mon-Keigh!” Maiaera screeched, breaking into a run towards a burnt-out Falcon Grav-Tank.

“Compromised, we’re Compromised!” the soft voice said, yelling now, “Brothers, strike them down in the Emperor’s name!” A flurry of Boltgun fire flew towards the Banshees whom were now running into action.

Two Banshees dropped with ragged holes in their chest in front of Cait. She leapt over them, her blade now held in one hand. The Banshee Masks were activated, sending the Shriek of the damned echoing in all directions. And now, Cait could see her foes. Five Space Marines in silver armour. Their shoulder guards were a dark blue and the rim was a gleaming gold. They all carried Boltguns with care and skill, firing towards the Banshees. One also had a Power Fist, however, and he was no doubt their Sergeant.

“Angels of Iron!” the Sergeant bellowed, firing his Boltgun, “Stand firm! Do not give an inch of the Emperor’s soil to these thrice-damned Xenos!”

Then the Banshees completed their charge, leaping the final few yards into the combat. The remaining eight were ready to avenge the death of the two fallen Eldar, but the Space Marines were ready to fight. A slash from a Banshee’s power blade cut into a Space Marine’s neck, felling him. A short range volley of Bolter fire destroyed the torso of a Banshee. Maiaera was locked in a duel with the Sergeant, ducking and weaving to avoid the lumbering Power Fist.

Cait finished her charge, leaping and landing on a Space Marine, knocking him to his back. In an instant, Cait’s blade went from being held half-heartedly at her side to being lodged in the Marine’s chest. Crimson blood sprayed up from the wound, covering Cait’s mask. That was two Marines down.

The thud of Bolt shells snapped Cait to attention. One Marine stood over the body of a wounded comrade, Shuriken embedded in his armour and a gaping wound in his chest, blood spurting out. Amazingly, it was clotting at an unnatural rate. The standing Marine, however, was the pressing concern. Three Banshees were dead at his feet, their bodies torn apart by the highly explosive rounds. And now the Marine’s attention was turning to Cait.

He fired and she rolled to the side, well under the rounds. As she stood, she dropped her Power Blade and drew her other weapon; A Death Spinner. Firing the weapon, a long, thin wire shot out and pierced the Marine’s armour, around his torso.  A rapidly expanding, mist like smoke began to spread from the wire. The Marine dropped, screaming in pain as he did. The wire had begun to expand inside his torso and began to shred his insides. Not even a Marine could recover from it. Eventually, he stopped screaming, only to be replaced by a scream that struck closer to home for Cait.

The scream of an Eldar.

Spinning on her heels, Cait saw the Space Marine Sergeant proudly holding up his Power Fist, a limp Eldar body in it. It was Maiaera. He threw her aside and set his gaze on Cait. His squad was dead, or dying, and he could absolve himself of this loss through the death of an Eldar leader. He charged Cait, screaming oaths to the Emperor. Cait deftly side-stepped, bringing her blade to bear, seeking to impale the Marine between his shoulder blades.

He spun, twisting out of sword reach and swung with his fist. Cait arced back, the crackling energies of the Fist barely missing her head. She dropped onto her back and rolled backwards, stopping in a crouch. The Marine’s expression was one of anger and scorn. He brought his Power Fist down in an overhead strike, but this was what Cait wanted. Rolling slightly to the side, just out of the weapons’ reach, Cait brought her own blade down in an overhead strike, slashing between the Marine’s elbow and shoulder. His weapon arm fell to the earth, no blood being spilled due to the nature of Power Weapons. He roared, raising his Boltgun to fire at Cait’s face but she was ready for this.

Swiftly, she brought her blade up and sliced through the Boltgun and, before the Sergeant could react, she spun her blade so it pointed towards the Marine and impaled him. Shaking in rage, Cait twisted the blade and forced the Mon-Keigh to his knees.

“This is not your soil,” she hissed, “It is Eldar soil. This is a Maiden World. We warned you. We told you we would exterminate you. We allowed you to leave but once again, your own foolishness has cost you your life.”

“The Galaxy,” the Marine spat, “Is the Emperor’s.” Cait howled and placed her foot on the Marine’s 

shoulder, putting all her force into it. He came off the blade and fell to the ground, on his back. Then, she used her blade to pierce the Marine between the eyes.

Collecting herself from her violent outburst, Cait cleaned her blade on the ground, praying softly. The remaining Banshees remained at her side.

“Come,” Cait said softly, standing and beginning to walk, “We must claim our world back from the Mon-Keigh. The Farseers have spoken.” 

Death Before Dishonour [40K - Short Story]

The door on his cell slams open, with an almighty crash, not unlike thunder. It echoed in the tiny cell, causing the walls and his bed to vibrate. Two grim faced guards stood, lasguns in rest positions, with a Commissar between them. It was time.

"Get up," the Commissar snapped. He looked at the chrono on his cell wall. Ten to six, Terran time. Ten minutes. Then it'll all be over.

The Guards stepped in and grabbed him roughly by the arms, half throwing and half dragging him out of the cell. The Commissar kicked him and he stumbled forward. He regained himself quickly, not wanting another beating. He remembered the flogging he'd gotten already. The bruises on his back were a sickly, bright purple and burned like napalm when he moved. Yet, he marched on. By his count, it was now seven to six.

He thought back to the incident. Him and the others, sitting in their barracks. Adolfa was cleaning her rifle, Eramana was praying and he was talking to Baltasar. He'd commented on how stupid the Colonel was for his tactics. The Colonel happened to be passing. He stormed in and dragged him out. He publicly flogged him, in front of the entire Regiment. He wasn't even given a trail. He was given a half hour of the Officers speaking against him. They accepted no evidence from him. It took a total of half an hour.

Half an hour for a man's life. Hardly seems fair. It was too late now. The Colonel called him a worm, all sorts of names and none of them good. Never had names bothered him. Until then. It was five to six by his count.

He stepped into the courtyard, frost clinging to the grass. The air was crisp and cold and the sun began it's slow ascent to the west. The sky that remained untouched by the sun's bathing rays was still dark, the stars in full shine, yet falling to the sun. Despite himself, he smiled. He thought back to the time he'd decided to join up. The air was crisp and cold, the stars were out and the sun began to rise. 'You'll end where you begin,' as his father used to say. He smiled at the memory. Three minutes to six he guessed.

Three other Guardsmen stood in the courtyard, yet he could only see their backs. The wore the same coloured armour he did, a few days ago. It seemed a lifetime. He was pushed against the wall and tied to a post. He didn't bother to fight back. The Priest came up, with the black hood and went to put it over his head. He shook his head vigorously. If he would die, he'd look his comrades in the eyes as they pulled the triggers. The Priest mumbled and made the sign of the Aquila, moving back as the Guardsmen turned, with the Commissar beside them. He barely resisted the urge to laugh. It was Adolfa, Eramana and Baltasar. The God-Emperor, or at the very least, the Commanders, had a very sadistic sense of humour.

He watched as his old Squadmate's expressions turned from that of stony duty-bound men and women, to that of shock, horror and disgust. Shock, that it would be them pulling the trigger on their friend, Horror, that he would watch them do it. Disgust at the sadistic pleasure their Commanders were no doubt getting from this.

"Attention!" the Commissar roared as the trio of Guard snapped to attention.

'I fear no evil, I fear no death, for the Emperor comes for me,' he thought to himself.

"Present Arms!" The Commissar bellowed and the Guard presented their rifles.

"Mighty Emperor, spread Your divine light to protect me from the darkness," he mumbled.

"Take aim!" The Commissar bellowed again, raising his Bolt Pistol and aiming for his chest. His old friends did the same, poorly contained tears in their eyes.

"Fear is naught, for my faith is strong!" he screamed, turning his head to the heavens.

"Fire!" the Commissar ordered. The Guard followed without question. A thundering crack told the world it was over. He was untied from the post and left, to rot in the sun. He had no name. He did not exist. He was forgotten. By Emperor and Imperium.

God, it has been a long time - hasn't it?

I wonder who actually remembers me? I don't quite know.

I'll get straight to it. I'm back here for a simple reason - I want to publish my work. You see, I've decided I want to become a published author in later life. I could go through Black Library (Who handle Warhammer (40,000) stuff) or self-publishing or whatever. The simple fact is I want to be an author.

Now, you see, I currently put all my work on the Astronomican Forum and (sometimes) my DeviantArt account. The problem with this is, it's pretty hidden. I'm not getting seen.

I'd like to get my work out to the larger world. I want to see people beyond my mates read and comment on my work. I'll never get better otherwise.

I do intend to try and update this a bit more regularly second time around, and it'll be interlaced with me posting up a number of shorts I have - including 'Failed' ones. I'll also be discussing concepts I have for future work.

Well, anyway, I'll see you all later.

-Dan

P.s. I just got a mention of TotalBiscuit's Azeroth Daily as Inquisitor023. Go me. : D

What to write about, what to write about...

Yes, I know I last updated on Sunday. Emily reminded me of that fact.

Not a long is going on here. Pretty boring. Been to a friend's two nights in a row and had him up for a few hours today. Damn good guy he is. His girlfriend has a Blog too, EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERYTHING {maybe). I'd check it out guys. Frankly, she's insane. It's damn awesome.

Anyway, due to lack of things to post about, I -should- end this post.

Should.

But I ain't.

Why? I feel like sharing. What am I going to share?

Remember how I said I love 40K, and I love RP? Well, if you do, very well done. If not, OI! PAY MORE ATTENTION.

Anyway... In my 40K RP time, we've done one main theme: Inquisition. We've served under different Inquisitors and made our green-as-grass Inquisitorial Rookies into Battle-Hardened Inquisitors and Throne Agents so bad-ass even Khorne thinks twice before fucking 'em over. And bitch, he wishes I was joking.

Anyway, I have one Inquisitor and he has a Cadre of his most trusted agents. What am I going to do? Share 'em with you, and my personal thoughts on them.

Inquisitor Brutis 'Bones' Tybalt: This is the Inquisitor himself. The man is loyal, to a fault. This works both ways though. If you do right by him, he'll do right by you. But if you do something wrong by him... Yeah... He runs around with a Boltgun (Machine Gun firing Exploding Rounds) with a Grenade Launcher, Power Sword, a Revolver (Relic of his Ganger days) and Power Armour, or a Carapace-Bodysuit with hidden Monoblade and Hellpistol. He's a fun sod.

(Ex-) Lieutenant Kyla Tybalt: The wife of the Inquisitor. She's a nice character. She's pretty damn caring, about her friends. She's not like Bones, in that she does it because she is loyal to them, but because she actually cares for 'em. She runs around with a Bolt Pistol and Power Sword, in Stormtrooper Carapace.

(Ex-) Captain Rosin Tybalt: The daughter of Bones and Kyla. She has yet to even be born at this stage of the RP, but she joins the Guard, becomes a Captain, becomes a Spec Op, joins Bones, goes and serves with Bones' friend (Faust) and then serves as the Drill Instructor for Bones' Best, Bones' private army.

That's the extent of -my- characters. However, my friend Ossai, Nich and Emily also RP with me. Starting with Ossai:

Adrail Velskar: An ex-Arbite (Cop, basically) this man is literally Bones' oldest follower, as Bones met him when he was trying to get Inquisitorial Backing to rise from Interragator to Inquisitor. Adrail and Bones got along well (Despite Adrail opening the friendship with a swift Shotgun to the back of the skull) and they just stuck together. This fucker runs around with a Shotgun, Carapace, Bolt Pistol and a Bionic Hand.

Aoife Velskar: Wife of Adrail and Bones' ex-girlfriend (Before Kyla). A Gang Leader, Bones thought she died before he joined the Guard as she got caught in an explosion that was meant for him. She lost her memory, and when Bones went home (To Subpono) to visit the dead (Something he didn't get to do as he was lifted by his Inquisitor at the end of a campaign), he met her. She didn't remember him, and after convincing Adrail not to kill her, Bones took her to get memory implants to restore it. She followed since. She runs around with a Meltagun (Shoots heat to melt tanks. Grab yer shades lads), throwing knives and Carapace (I think).

Serah: A Sister of Battle (Nuns with Guns, Bolter Bitches, whatever). I remember Bones being called to trial over something Claria (Down!) had and I think they fought. And Serah got assigned to Bones. I think that's how it went. I don't remember. Anyway, Power Armour and Storm Bolter.

Nich's now.

Claria: A Noble woman who studied Forbidden Xeno Lore. Not really much to say about her. If I remember right, she joined when Bones took down her Heretical family. Of course, her love of all things alien has got him in a lot of shit with the higher-ups and he was once dragged to trial over it. She wears a robe/dress and uses twin laspistols and (I think) a shotgun.

Interragator Novia: Ah, Novia. Novia's a crazy bitch. Fanatical to the Immortal God-Emperor and Bones. She's also not here of Bones' choice. After his trial, Master Gyland ordered that Novia (A student of his personal Progena) to join him. After a rather... rocky introductory period, she's settled in well. Sadly, doubts are raising in Bones' mind with recent events... And he's looking to get her out of his Cadre.

Lastly, Emily's.

Roxx Rodericson: *cackles* Dear old Roxx... Roxx is a Feral World Guardsman. And my God, is he fun. I can't sum it up, but he is. And speaks 40K German. He runs around with a Chainaxe, Hellpistol and Stormtrooper Carapace. 

Ishida: An Explorator-Magos, Ishida is a massive benifit to Bones' organization. Mainly because she can repair stuff. Basically, she's the team's Engineer. And a lot more fun that the normal. Why? Her first adventure was joining the Cadre to hunt down a VERY powerful Psyker. She killed it. Lopped its head off. With an axe. Screaming 'PRAISE OMNISSIAH, BITCH'. Crowning Moment of Awesome, I do believe.

Anyway, that's about all from me.

Later Internet. Take it easy, and in the words of the almighty Courage Wolf:

PAIN IS TEMPORARY. FAILURE IS FOREVER.
PAIN IS TEMPORY. GLORY IS ETERNAL.NOTHING TO LOSE MEANS NOTHING BUT GAIN.
THE ONLY TRUE FAILURE IS ACCEPTING FAILURE.
TROLL UNTIL BANNED, THEN MAKE ANOTHER ACCOUNT.

GLORY TO COURAGE WOLF!

Cheers,
Dan

Boredom and Longing

I am so fucking bored right now. There is literally one person speaking to me on MSN right now and I haven't seen my girlfriend at all today. It's bloody depressing. And today sucked. Well, except for one thing, but beyond that IT SUCKED.

Yeah, the extent of my day was a slice of cold pizza, being dragged out shopping, picking up some cool stuff for my girlfriend (Who deserves this and more, in my eyes), coming home, Spore and being bored. Yeah, I bet you people are green with envy at my day.

You know, I've said a bit about my girlfriend, now I think about it. Suppose I should really say a few words... All right, nothing better to talk about.

Her name is Emily, and she's from England. Yes, I know what all you people are thinking: 'Wait, you're in Ireland and she's in England, isn't that hard?'

You want an answer?

Yes, it fucking is hard. That said, do I give a shit how hard it is? No. Do I care how much it costs me to post her off a present? No. I don't. Why the hell should I? The best things in life don't come easy, nor are they cheap.

The best things in life need work, effort and payment. And I'll be damned if I let the best damn thing to happen to me ever slip away. Sure, it'll cost me. Sure, it'll be hard.

But has anyone ever considered that fact that this girl is WORTH it? Worth all the effort, the money, whatever? By God, when I meet her it'll be the happiest moment of my life. It'll all be worth it.

Anyway... Post over. I'm off to see if Servants of the Imperium has been updated.

Take it easy, 'net
Cheers,
Dan

What Is In A Dream?

I suddenly find myself pondering that. What, exactly, is a dream?

Is it a possible reality, a potential requiring you to simply reach you and grasp it by the throat? Is it a fantasy, a human longing for something more, or better?

Or is it simply the human mind fucking us over once more?

I don't know why I suddenly ponder this. After all, I don't dream (At least that I can remember) but I do daydream. While walking to school, I picture warzones. Artillery fire, heavy weapons blazing, armour divisions rumbling to victory, a lone soldier holding the line against all odds, orders, gunfire, death, screaming, battle-cries...

Wait... I was trying to make a point. Where was I? Oh, right. Yes, I daydream that. I also remember daydreaming (many times) that Sonic the Hedgehog was running alongside my dad's car.

Yes, I am a strange and twisted person.

That said, I've equally dreamed of other things: I dreamed of having a girlfriend (A Dream I succeeded in, and scored bonus points with my awesome lady!). I dream of being able to do art (Something I can't really do).

So... A Dream is a fickle thing. And now I'm going to see if one crosses my mind. That's right - sleepy time for me. Take it easy, Internet.

Cheers,
Dan

To Introduce One's Self

Hey people!

Welcome to my Blog: Love, Life and the Emperor's Duty. I'm going to assume I can see through your computer screen and that you all look confused, simply so I can say 'You seem confused, allow me to explain.'

You see, in this Blog, I'm going to detail my interests (Or Loves), my life as it happens (Life, Hurr Durr) and... Well, I love Warhammer 40K (BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD) and am an avid Imperial, so Emperor's Duty. You don't like it, make your own blog and bitch about it. Link me, I'll even read it.

Anyway... This first blog is basically going to introduce me. Tons of fun for you lot.

My name is Daniel, I'm fifteen and I was born and raised in Belfast, Ireland. I've been in a relationship for about an month now.

I am a avid Fan-Fiction Author (With most of my work centered in the Warhammer 40K Universe) as well as a Role-Player, again mainly focusing on Warhammer 40K, but I have dove into Fantasy.

My interests include Writing, Music and playing Computer Games (I owe a Xbox 360 and game quite a bit on PC). I like Real-Time Strategies, Role Playing Games and I don't mind me some First-Person Shooter.

My inner Grammar Nazi died at that...

My current music taste is mainly (Power) Metal/Rock, with my two main groups being Avenged Sevenfold, and the rather unknown Sabaton (They focus mainly on Historical Battles for their songs and kick ass like no tomorrow - if you've never heard them and like Power Metal, try them!)

And just in case it wasn't clear: I love Warhammer 40K, though I don't do the actual hobby anymore (I do keep up with the background though!). I also love to RP. Maybe I'll share characters or plots or whatever. We'll see.

That's pretty much me, unless you sods want to know what I look lije. And if you do, fuck off. This is the Internet. God only knows what'll happen to that description/photo.

That's all for now, peoples.
Cheers!
Dan