[b]Emotion[/b] [i]I approach the gate, a brown cloak surrounding me. I am tall, somewhat skinny. What is revealed of my skin is covered in scars. A gust of wind rolls by, blowing back my hood and lower part of the cloak, revealing a black revolver with a golden trim, the letters MO engraved in the side of the barrel, and a short-sword with a bronzeish hue.[/i] [i]I look young, like a man in his late 20s. But my eyes show that of a man who has been around for hundreds of years, they are cold, dead, the deep Black Sea which was my eyes betrays my physique. My hair is a mess, its jet black strands tumbling down the side of my head, about half way to my chin. A short beard is on my face, and my mouth is dry. Without a word, I enter, walking throughout the commons of the Dojo.[/i] [i][b]So strange, this is unlike what I'm used to. [/b] I think to myself as I continue walking. I look up on a hill, a statute of a man with a sword in one hand and a cobalt flame in the other overlooking the compound. In the center, a stone engraved with names sits there. It reads-[/i] "To those whom we've lost. Never Forget-" -Cobalt Phoenix -Marauder Felix ..... ..... [i]The list continues on and on, such a saddening sight, seeing the names of people who had lost their lives. I arrive on one. [/i] -Agent Missouri [i]Again, the name, or alias of someone who had died. I had once known a man they called Missouri, he wasn't an "Agent"of any kind, though. Just a mercenary's alias, a testament to his home.I hold the letter that is hidden up my sleeve at the thought of that man, a Very talented person, and my closest friend. I look up from the memorial, turning around to observe the occurrences. People fighting, sparring, others purveying goods to the inhabitants, others purchasing them. It was all a very controlled chaos. I sit down at a nearby bench, just taking it all in. This was a familiar environment, but one that I wasn't sure whether or my I'd be accepted in. My thoughts return to that dear friend of mine, all the anger, the sadness, and the rage spill out at once. I abruptly stand up, and begin screaming in Latin, my head towards the sky.[/i] Haec credam a deo pido? a deo justo? a deo scito?! Cruciatus in Crucem! Tuus in Terra servus, nuntius fui, offcium perfeci! Cruciatus in Crucem.... EAS IN CRUCEM! [i]I fall to my knees, weeping. I had balled it up. Everything. I draw my revolver, examining it. It was my only memento of him. [/i] [spoiler]Translation: Am I to believe these things from a righteous God, a Just God, a wise God? To hell with your Punishments! I was your Servant, your messenger on Earth! I did my duty! To hell with your punishments.... And to hell with you! (Got this speech from one of the best moments from a TV show I used to watch, figured it fit)[/spoiler]