Oh, yeah, and there's a hurricane heading my way.

:C!

Should the green highlighted text not be "to"?

god damnit

"I sat in my bed rocking back and forwards, my legs brought up into my chest with my arms cradling them tightly. I blinked furiosuly to try to swipe away the tears with desperate hands, but they only came faster. My head rested on my plain dark blue pillow gently, offering what support it has to offer. My dooner acted as my protector, my shield, my parent/gaurdian in the times of crisis which I suffered endlessly.

My room was rather plain with wooden walls up to the half-way mark, above that to the roof being a yellow'ish wallpaper decorated with white flowers and brown borderes around each vertical line of white flowers. The roof was made from the exact same wood as the one for the lower walls. To my left was a keyboard with a faded and unreadable brand name atop a set of wooden drawers, to my right a smaller yet deeper set of wooden drawers, atop of that a un-used lamp. The rest of my room was emptey.

The wall and roof style was maintained for the rest of the house, just across the doorway and the hallway was my parents room. My parents room, where it happened. Every night when I was accused deep in my sleep, which I seldom was, my father would begin. I could only see the shadows dance from the lamp in their room, but it'd always start with the plead, the 'Please, you don't have to do this, not tonight...' or the 'Wait, he could be still awake! Just don't do it tonight, not tonight!'

It was always hopeless.

And so the shadows would dance, revealing a dark and emotionless figure which I entitle my father begin. He would start with the punches, the hits, striking her over the head, hands in fist, eyes ablaze.Often blood would fly from my mothers nose, splattering against the wall. Often she would be unable to sit up, wounded and hurt, which would lead to the next event. He approached her dramatically, arms swinging, looking down on her.

He would sit on her, reach down to her breasts, toying with them momentarily before striking her upon the head once more and opening the palms of his hands. His hands would decend upon her throat, his fingers gripping her neck securley, his torso shifting forward as he applied hsi body weight. You could hear her struggle to breath, panting, slowly coming to a halt as she would near the verge of conciousness and unconciousness. Then heavy breathing, panting, then it would all begin again.

It was one night that I snapped. The rocking done had become too much, the tears shed had become too many. As I laid there, hopeless, I suddenly stopped crying. Of course, I was not emotionless, instead of taking it out in tears I took it out in flash rage; flash rage that surged over my body with no set course or destination except the death of the one who summoned it. The sound of a turning dooner was overturned by the pants and breaths of my mother.

I set course down the hallway, footstep after footstep. I would come down on my heel, rolling it at a steady pace towards my toes while keeping my body weight focused on centre mass to avoid disturbing the wooden floorboards. To my left was the lounge room with the 42" plasma TV and the worn couch. To my right was the kitchen, in a wooden holder was a set of sharpened knifes. There was the one knife that stook out to me. It was the knife I would take my fathers life with that night.

I paced back down the hallway, this time stealth was the least of my concerns. I was met by a towering figure, my father. His hands were clenched in fists, his face was bloody and furious.
"What are you doing up? Get back to be- Is that a knife!?" He asked furiously.
"Yes. It is." I replied calmly, my voice tinted with anger.
"Put it the fuck back, you bitch!" he yelled, raising his voice.
"You stop beating mum!" I replied, raising my voice to match his.
"I do what I want to her. I brang you into this world and I'll take you out just as easily!" he yelled as he begin to swing his right arm in a semi-circular motion.

I ducked under it, lunging for his Abdomen after sprining off my toes. My knife was poised and ready, tip forward. With a single scream and an inhuman noise of seperating flesh and muscle, blood poured onto the blade before being flicked onto the wall with a swift flick of my right arm. He fell to his knees, looking at me with a bloodshot eye, furious.

I rested the blade against his neck for the feel of it, for the feel of the sharpened steel against his naked flesh.
"Allow me to correct you... You brought me into this would, now I bring you out." I teased, before bringing my knife back with a swift motion with my right arm, lunging it towards his abdomen. I forced it in, ripped it out and forced it in again in various swift motions, blood and bits of human flesh and muscle showering the area in a rainfall of gore. Blood sprayed all over me, all over him, for the next half an hour. Once he fell to the floor, I stopped. I realised what I had done.

The knife dropped to the floor. It rattled against the floorboards loudly.

Now, years on, look who's back." I looked to the figure before me, strapped into the 'Treatment' room chair. "Miracles do happen, I guess...". I examined the various insturments before me, insturments for removing eyeballs, insturments for removing indiviual testicals.

Now I am the one who towers over. I am the one in control.

I am the one behind the faceplate.

I am Acting Officer of NOVA squadron Five-Oh-One, and this is my story.

Plan out all conflicts before they happen. Agree on an outcome and work towards that by just RP'ing. Try to make the outcome as unbiased as possible to both sides.

My standpoint.

Various songs I tend to listen TO in HL2RP
If an anime of ME exsisted my life would be complete... God damnit.

Why are you posting here you ask? Never fear, as I'm here to tell you!

I only play on HL2RP. *crickets*

But anyway, I am currently active at another community that will not be mentioned due to advertising rules that is new and interesting to me. Could you set all my HL2RP characters with special roles (NOVA-OfC(A).501, WRAITH-LDR.97495 and Dr. Alexandra Smirnov) to Authorised Leave/Inactive for the meantime. Need I am required on, I shall come with due haste, just don't expect me on casually.

Chances are I shall be active again soon.

Thank you and warm regards,

ShowNoFear.

They're - They're is a shortened version of They are, note the '. This is often used when discussing groups of other people.

Oh yea, that mob of ferrals, they're just over at the Kato Cafe, just left a minute ago.

There - There is used when discussing something involving a Location. Note the 'here' in There, 'here, there and everywhere.'

He's running! Over there!

Their - This is used to denote possession. Credits to Yankee for correcting me.

Antlions are coming! Their mouthparts are very sharp!

You're - Same deal with They're. This means You are.

...You're a real dick, you know that? You didn't have to get me this!

Your - Used when addressing something involving the individual you are talking too.

Hey, did you get your books back?