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Jan 7, 2004 6:03:25 GMT -5
Post by foogoomagoo on Jan 7, 2004 6:03:25 GMT -5
0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 R 0 R 0 0 0 0 R 0 0 0 0 0 0 R 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 S 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 S 0 0 0 0 0 0 S 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1
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Jan 7, 2004 6:04:46 GMT -5
Post by foogoomagoo on Jan 7, 2004 6:04:46 GMT -5
0 is open water. 1 is anchored pirates R is for HUGE rock. S is for sea serpent.
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Jan 7, 2004 7:14:19 GMT -5
Post by NaJysbuna on Jan 7, 2004 7:14:19 GMT -5
the land can't attack o well, those can just be obstacles
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Jan 7, 2004 16:29:31 GMT -5
Post by Ultimate Commando on Jan 7, 2004 16:29:31 GMT -5
put spaces between the icons
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Jan 7, 2004 16:35:12 GMT -5
Post by foogoomagoo on Jan 7, 2004 16:35:12 GMT -5
thanx commando.
0 for water R for rock S for sea serpent mirage 1 for anchored dead pirates
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Dec 31, 2010 15:10:23 GMT -5
Post by glitchy bitch on Dec 31, 2010 15:10:23 GMT -5
The doctor's round took place early in the morning. He gave me a clean bill of health, and let me know that both Jin Ju and I would be released from the hospital within the hour. He had already seen her, and told me that apart from a few bruises, she was in perfect shape. He advised me to take it easy for a while, and warned me that I could expect quite agonizing flashbacks and nightmares for months to come. Being on a holiday, I had no intention of overexerting myself. I told the doctor so, and thanked him for his services and those of his hospital.
Before we could leave the hospital, we had to wait for customs and immigration to come and officially admit us into the country. Jin Ju's parents had been located at the airport and brought to her bedside the night before; they were now on their way to pick her up. Using my smartphone that I had kept in my pocket, I had called my parents to reassure them of my well being, and I had had another talk with Laura.
The immigration procedures turned out to be painless. Jin Ju and I had, of course, lost our luggage, but not our money nor our traveling documents. Mine were in a money belt and Jin Ju had hers in a small backpack that she had managed to slip on while we had been waiting to land.
When we were done with the formalities, a couple of airline representatives came to see that we were well taken care of. Pacific Rim Airlines was the epitome of generosity and promised to fit us out and reequip us, and to pay us compensation for our horrifying experience. The airline also wanted to have its doctors ensure that we'd get over the aftereffects of our ordeal, and insisted on putting me up in a downtown hotel for a week, before I'd be sent off, first class, to Tokyo to resume my trip.
Now Jin Ju's parents arrived in an airline limousine, and I was introduced to them. There was no mistaking their joy and gratitude over their daughter's miraculous survival. I explained, interpreted by Jin Ju, that I was just as grateful for what had happened, and that my part in it was rather minor in comparison with the kind of break we had both been given by Providence.
Jin Ju's home was on the other side of Seoul, and her parents offered me a lift to my hotel. In the car, Jin Ju turned to me and gave me a big hug.
"Thank you for saving my life, Gregory," she said. "My parents and I would be very honored if you'd like to come and visit us in our home. It would be a great privilege for them to be able to show you a token of their gratitude before you continue on your trip."
I gladly accepted the invitation. Now that, for the moment, all our concerns were over, I, too, felt the shock of being a survivor of a disaster that had claimed nearly twelve hundred lives. Acknowledging and beginning to sort out this harrowing experience was something best done together with Jin Ju and her parents. We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet again as soon as possible.
At the hotel, I was met by PRA officials who made every effort to ensure my comfort. Two gentlemen took my garment sizes and set off to procure clothes and personal necessities. I was installed in a suite and made as comfortable as possible. Lunch was brought up. The hotel staff was instructed to look after me with no expenses spared, and a doctor and a psychiatrist set to work treating me for posttraumatic stress syndrome. I asked if Jin Ju would get similar attention and was assured that this was the case: arrangements had already been made with her parents.
In the days that followed, I came to realize how fortunate I was to receive this treatment, although, for a start, I had been more than a little annoyed over all the fuss. Wherever I looked, memories of the destruction of the plane kept coming back to me. TV talked about little else; the papers were full of it. Walking down the street, I'd see a mother with a young girl, and the image of the child across the aisle from me would flash back to my inner eye. Encountering a wrinkled old man with particularly dark skin would make me think of charred bodies, and then I'd realize that there hadn't been any: the incineration of the passengers had been complete and instantaneous. Every person in and around the airplane had turned to ashes in a firestorm that had paralleled the intensity of a major napalm bombardment. My sleep was disturbed by fits of panic, as I would relive in my dreams my flight from the airplane and its fiery destruction.
But I knew I had to put the hijacking behind me. During the next several days, I toured Seoul and visited the lovely palaces, the ancient gates, and all the other sights I had never taken the time to see before, when I'd been there on business. I went for a long walk in Namsan Park and had my dinner in the skyline restaurant in Seoul Tower on the top of the mountain, just to prove to myself that I hadn't acquired a fear of heights. The park was a splendid sight at this time of the year: the greenery was fresh and young. In the National Museum of Korea, I discovered that the country's culture is over 5,000 years old. A lot older than Australia, I mused, but then I corrected myself: no, less than one tenth the age of Australia's Aboriginal culture.
Just as interesting was the National Folk Museum, not far away. Here, I got a glimpse of the way Koreans had lived and worked in bygone days. Then I took a guided tour of the Ch'angdokkung Palace and the Piwon or Secret Garden in the back of the palace grounds.
Finally, after I had spent a week in Seoul, the doctors agreed with Jin Ju's parents that our recovery was well enough underway for my planned visit to take place. I took a cab to their home in a working class suburb, a stark contrast to the Westernized hotel where I had been accommodated by the airline. It turned out that Jin Ju had a younger brother. This was a good thing, as Koreans don't like having an even number of people at a table. Jin Ju's parents were simple people, who spoke only a few words of English, but their sincerity was great, and Jin Ju was kept busy interpreting.
It was clear to me that the hijacking and this unexpected exposure to a totally different culture were having a profound effect on my priorities and my attitude to life. My earlier travels had always taken me to environments similar to that in which I worked and lived. Business meetings were held in offices of sister companies and vendors to my employer, and my lodgings were never very different from one country to the next. Here in Korea, for the first time, I had met foreign people who were in no way involved with international trade. Instead of the inferior civilization our customary Australian underestimation of Asians had led me to expect, I had encountered a cultivated, intelligent family with refined manners and ancient traditions.
The contrast was made even more striking by their simple home and their humble circumstances. I might have expected this dwelling to make me miss the creature comforts of my own home. Instead it set my mind working on how much of our automated luxury might, in fact, be a kind of addiction. I began seeing a dependence carefully nurtured by industry and commerce, relying on advertising and peer pressure to make us always want more. I had to admit that the lifestyle of my circle of acquaintances in Sydney revolved entirely around gadgets. In that peer group, your degree of success was, very simply, judged on how many of the latest imported machines you owned.
At home, my clean line, space age kitchen had a computer set in the counter, with commands for doors to slide open and for the selected item to present itself. For making a simple cup of coffee I had six different machines—from a plain instant coffee maker to the steam trap for the flavor that couldn't be beaten. In comparison, Jin Ju's home was primitive. But the fare I was served was simply superb; the hospitality was congenial, and the place was quiet, without the constant whir of fans and beeping of timers. Over the strong, green tea that so perfectly complemented our dinner, I expressed a thought that had been growing on me during the week.
"Just being alive now seems like such a privilege, such an important thing. I really want to live every minute of the rest of my life. Overcoming habit and prejudice, learning from others, experiencing everything that comes my way—I can't think of anything more essential."
Jin Ju had come to similar conclusions.
"You know," she said, "since I nearly died there, I see everything in more vivid detail. I see colors I didn't even know existed. I hear the birds like never before. Every day holds so much that's new—I only regret that I've spent all these years without knowing how precious life really is."
I returned to my hotel at peace with myself, and feeling not a little excited over my new insights. After a good night's sleep, I waited for my two doctors to arrive. Following a brief closing session, I announced that I now wished to equip myself for the rest of my journey. I thanked them for their help and set out to use my open ended account at the big department store in the underground mall connecting to the hotel.
To replace the suitcase I had started my trip with, I got myself a sturdy, good looking rucksack with a magnesium alloy frame, on the hunch that I could just as well prepare for a rather more adventurous trip than I had originally envisaged. I filled it up with high quality outdoor clothes and hiking gear for different climates, and, for good measure, strapped onto it a tent, a self-inflating foam pad, and a warm sleeping bag. A first aid kit and some simple cooking gear completed the setup, and after purchasing some tools and camping provisions, I was ready to continue my journey.
My seat on the flight to Tokyo had been booked for that afternoon. I stopped at the PRA head office to thank my benefactors there, and was treated to a ride in one of the company's chauffeured cars. Waiting in the back seat were Jin Ju and her parents. My minder at PRA had been kind enough to invite them to see me off. Soon we arrived at the airport and it was time for me to go.
"I'll never forget you," Jin Ju said, bowing lightly in her Oriental fashion.
We said good-bye, and I was grateful for our friendship, and content that it hadn't turned into infatuation.
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Jul 30, 2012 12:03:59 GMT -5
Post by Bear on Jul 30, 2012 12:03:59 GMT -5
Welcome to Dragon's kit cave!
Rules~
NO kit stealing.
Only volunteers may roleplay kits.
You may donate kits.
There are a few Levels of kits.
Easy. A little hard. A mistrustful kit, They'll take some coaxing to like you. A confused kit, usually with brain problems. A sad kit, hard to break through. A extremely Hard kit. A rude kit.
Volunteers! ~Volunteers Roleplay and Take care Of kits.
Dragon~Silver Bengal she- cat with icy blue eyes.
Just tell me you're cats name and description, and i'll add you!
Feel free to donate kits, as well.
Magical kits.
Silverkit~ Light gray she-kit with gray eyes and stars twinkling at her paws, she Has the power to go to the dead by herself. Level-
Flamekit~ Dark ginger tom with red streaks on his legs, Eyes reflecting like fire. He can walk through any fire without getting hurt. he can also create sparks with his paws. level~
Broken kits!
Oilkit~ Oilkit was once a Pretty brown she- kit, But now her pelt color is only the color of Oil, due to her falling into a oil spill as a kit. Level-
Shreddedkit~ Black tom kit with a shredded tail. His tail was caught in a odd twoleg machine as a newborn. level-
Oceankit- Dark gray she- kit with black dapples. dark blue eyes. her voice is a bit odd after swallowing too much saltwater, she almost drowned in the ocean as a very young kit. level-
Desperate kits! ~These kits were abandoned by there parents and need a good home and some cheering up.
Goldenkit- Cream she-kit with pretty golden eyes and a torn ear. level-
Snailkit- White tom kit With dark green eyes, He adores bugs. level-
Wolfkit- Very dark gray tom-Kit With brown ears. Slanted dark blue eyes. level-
Orchidkit- Pretty white she-cat with brown, ginger, and red patches, Forest green eyes. level-
Keep in mind that more kits are added often!
Please volunteer, Adopt, Donate, And Have fun!
NOTE~ to adopt a kit, you must roleplay you're cat. The same goes for Being a volunteer.
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