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The Vampire's Chronicles 1: Alone

Discussion in 'Creative Archive' started by Doctor Oak, Apr 26, 2007.

  1. Doctor Oak

    Staff Member Overlord

    This is the first part of a series of short stories I plan to write on my character Alex, these stories will only be a few chapters long and are intended to tell an over-arcing story in a small episodic like format. Bite-sizeness = something I can do quickly and easily. ^^

    The following post is the first Chapter of Chronicle 1, but for those uninitiated in the history of Alex and Amber, here's a quick lesson (A lot of this history wont be important, and the Pokemon stuff wont really be involved - this is all just history from years of Role Play topics.):


    Age: 18
    Nationality: Irish
    Proffesion: Slayer
    Magical Ability: None.
    Skills/Weapons: Super-human strength and powerful and skillful fighting abilities. Has a single double bladed mini-axe and Stakes.

    Born in Belfast, Amber was quickly identified by the Watcher's Council across the pond in England to be a 'Potential Slayer' and was raised in an English school along with other potentials, where among normal subjects she was trained to be a Slayer. She never saw a lot of her parents outside of the holidays because of this but kept in close contact with them until she left England. When the barriers between Hell and Earth began to weaken - Arcinius' return and Nemesis' subsequent return prompting a quicker deterioration - Amber was sent to the Pokemon Islands to join the current Slayer of the time, Daisy Oak and the other group of fighters to help battle the foretold doom that was coming. She had been sent, essentially to replace Daisy - who had been prophesised to die in such a battle but hadn't been informed of it.

    The same prophesy that foretold Daisy's death and Amber's ascension has since been destroyed by the Watcher's Council under fear that Amber may learn what else it contained. It is unknown if anyone else has ever read the prophesy however.

    Upon returning home after the climactic battle with Pandora - the Watcher's Council feeling she was needed elsewhere she found that demons, monsters and vampires had broken through the gaps of Hell into the rest of the world too but when Pandora was defeated, many had retreated back to Hell. The damage had already been done, however, most personally for Amber was the fact that she had returned home to find her parents as Vampires and was forced to stake them.

    The problems continued as Amber was almost killed by Alex, under the control of Pandora whom was seeking revenge. It took Amber to melt Arcinius' heart towards helping her save Alex to have the Crescent Mage force Pandora out of Alex by means of magic.


    Age: 142 (Turned at the age of 21)
    Nationality: Irish
    Proffesion: None - A vampire.
    Magical Ability: None.
    Skills/Weapons: Super-human strength and powerful and skillful fighting abilities. Can also speak many languages and read older languages including many demonic ones. Has the ability to be fed information from 'The Fates'.

    Alex was born in a small village in Ireland 1863, at the time of Nationalist tensions concerning Catholic voting and British control over the whole of Ireland. His village, however, was secluded from most problems and didn't have much contact with the English. One thing it did have, however, was an underworld community and Alex was caught up in it at the age of 21 when he was killed and turned into a Vampire. The Fates, however, had chosen him as their Champion on Earth and preserved his soul- making him unique.

    The Vampire travelled the world after that, looking to escape the growing tensions in Ireland that he had seen were looking to lead to war. Living in Europe until the end of the century, he was again forced to seek a new home when war prepared to grip the continent a decade or so later and tensions in Russia, Germany and Italy all began to bubble.

    Travelling through Russia to North America, Alex wandered the United States freely for the rest of the century - keeping abreast of the news of the wars in Europe and watching as America itself joined the wars and subsequently the Korean and Vietnam wars.

    Other news he had picked up on, however, included the insistence of one young Samuel Oak that there were monsters living on seculded islands near Japan and that some had managed to escape the entrenched waters that shielded the islands and had made their way to other parts of the world too - but were never truely acknowledged and were even claimed by the once-respected Proffessor to have been covered up by Governments who knew full well of their existence.

    The news eventually pettered out for a while in the news that America had declared war on Japan over Pearl Harbour. Few knew that in the short time before that, Oak had travelled to the islands he had claimed to have existed and had taken two other men with him. One being Giovanni Adonis and the other being Mr. Millenieu.

    After the second world war, Oak returned to America with proof that the islands and the Pokemon existed and when the Government acknowledged their existence formally, Oak returned to the Islands and continued to learn more of the creatures. Travel to the islands, however, remained difficult on boat because of the dangerous waters and it wasn't until commercial flights began that more and more people began to flock to the Islands - the precise number of which has yet to be confirmed as more show up outside of water barriers every few years. Including new Pokemon indigenous to the regions.

    Alex continued to remain in America, even when the growing force of Giovanni and Team Rocket - based in the Islands began to threaten the entire world and eventually put the entire globe under his power for a time - highlighted by his destruction of the city of Boston in one blast.

    Fighting back in a small manner against those Rockets that existed in America and threatened to hurt those he had become acquainted with, he didn't bother with it that much - he had seen their fate and the fate of their leader already...

    It wasn't until he had learnt that the latest Slayer was a teenager living on the Pokemon Islands and was the sister of the infant that had brought Giovanni down unintentionally once and then fought against him 13 years later, that Alex finally decided to travel to the Pokemon Islands and join the fight against Giovanni.

    He remained on the Pokemon Islands until the battle with Pandora - when he had killed Daisy after having a close relationship with her since arriving by being under the control of Pandora. Following that, and seeing how much it was hurting Amber - whom he had also befriended since she had arrived - he decided to return home and had few intentions of returning to the Islands.

    When Shawn, Arcinius and Amber hunted him down back in Ireland however, he was also freed from Pandora's grasp by Arcinius' Silver magic, albiet reluctantly. When Amber angrily returned to the Islands, following the Watchers Council's actions, the Vampire accompanied her and resumed the role he had assumed with Daisy as a side-kick to the Slayer.
  2. Doctor Oak

    Staff Member Overlord

    London, England. Last Year.

    Alex stood with his hands deep into his leather coat pockets, his perfectly blue eyes distant and mind very much elsewhere as the crowd of men in suits a few feet away continued to rabble among themselves. Beside him, a young deep blonde haired girl... no - woman - he had come to admire, respect and love as his closest and dearest friend, her arms folded and brow knitted anxiously as her fate was debated by the people that had declared themselves as her employers of sorts.
    She was The Slayer. She alone was destined to fight the Vampires, Demons and forces of darkness that made up the underbelly of the entire planet — and further. They were a group of men called The Watchers, descendants of the men that created the first Slayer centuries ago, the men that took a peasant girl, chained her to the ground and let loose the spirit of a demon inside her soul to give her the strength to fight their battle for them.
    What they were debating - surrounded by the Victorian glory of an old English manor, grandfather clocks ticking in the background, grand rugs stretching across the wooden floor and a huge fire crackling in the centrepiece of the room — was the fact that Amber was not alone in her destined fight. She had Alex, and to the Watchers, this was the greatest perversion possible of their long-served traditions, not to mention their morals — as black and white as they were.
    Alex was not a Watcher. He was not a Slayer. But, like everyone in the room, he was destined in his fight against the evils of the world. Unlike everyone else in the room, he was dead. Undead to be exact. About a century and a half ago, in rural Ireland, he was killed and turned into a Vampire. When one is turned into a Vampire, the demon gets your body, it gets your mind and memories, but it doesn't get your soul. Fate stepped in when Alex was turned, and he awoke the next night after his death a unique creature — a creature of the night like no other. He was the Vampire with a soul, a Champion of the Fates to crusade against the darkness from within the belly of the beast. As far as the Watcher's Council was concerned, he was also the most dangerous 'man' on the face of the earth. He had power over the Slayer that they couldn't begin to imagine, and could literally feel what power they had slipping between their fingers and into his hands. This had to stop.
    For Amber's entire tenure as The Slayer, Alex had been with her, travelling the lands as lost souls united and crusading against the evils they faced around every corner. They had limited contact with the Watcher's Council during this time, but Alex knew they were always there — in the shadows — err... watching. Never once did they show their hand, not until a fortnight ago in Prague when finally one of the Watchers stepped forward and confronted Amber and Alex following a night of patrolling the city's graveyards and finding nothing. Amber had been ordered to return to the Council HQ in England — the first time since she left following her 'activation' as Slayer. Alex knew from the off that the entire thing was about him and his proximity to her — he wasn't sure if Amber had realised it at the time, but as he stood gazing at the fire next to him, he was pretty certain she must have done so by now.
    Finally, the Watchers nodded, went silent and turned all at once to face Amber. Alex looked over to them, but continued to appear uninterested. The Watcher in the centre stepped forward, his head bald, his moustache white, his body round and his suit tweed. He stared maliciously at Alex, his discontent at his existence, let alone his presence, as clear as the azure seas.
    "We have concluded," His stuffy English accent stirring up old Irish Nationalism in Alex, giving him further reason to dislike the Watcher as much as the Watcher disliked him. "that the Slayer's duties have been compromised by her... lack of stability." He wasn't saying what he meant, but Alex knew the truth.
    "We have decided that Amber should stay here, under the supervision of the Council, where she can be guided and supported effectively and our efforts can be concentrated."
    Amber frowned and looked to Alex, she began to open her mouth to speak, but was cut off again by the Watcher.
    "The Vampire will leave." He said calmly, knowing Amber full-well expected Alex to stay with her.
    "Not a chance!" She spat out angrily, taking a step forward towards the five men in front of her, arms unfolded and hands firmly placed on her hips. Alex continued to stare forward, his face ungenerous with emotion.
    "Despite the obvious problems that such a... relationship... presents concerning your duties," The man continued unabated by Amber's aggressiveness. Amber could kick his ass without thinking about it, but it either didn't cross his mind that she could attack him, or he just didn't care. "it is impractical for you to be dividing your loyalties at this time. You will remain with us, focus on your training and carry out your duties as required."
    "And just what the hell makes you think I'll blindly do what you tell me to?" Amber growled, rage building in her and showing plain as day.
    "Because they're right." Alex said at last, breaking his gaze with the Watchers and turning to Amber. His words sent her reeling in confusion and she looked to him like her world was falling to pieces around her.
    "..W...w...what?" She stuttered out.
    "We've been fighting blind and unorganised for months now, Amber." He finally cracked and showed emotion, sorrow. "Some nights we get lucky, we dust a few Vamps. Others we don't find a single one. On neither of those nights do we actually make the impact we were born to make." He glanced across the room to see the Watchers smirking cockily. He hated to give them any satisfaction at all, but he no longer had any choice. He knew this for some time, long before the Council plucked up the balls to say anything. He took some small solace in the fact that they had completely different reasons for agreeing.
    "We're here to fight a lot more than the odd vampire crawling out of a freshly dug grave. We've beaten apocalypses in the past, we've been to the centre of Hell itself. We have to continue fighting the big fight."
    Amber was troubled. She was hearing what Alex was saying and though she didn't want to for a second, she couldn't help but agree with what he was saying.
    "But... we can fight it together! How does your not being here help?" Tears began to develop in her eyes, and it began to break Alex's unbeating heart.
    "I'm a liability for you." It was everything Alex could do to not well up along with her. "You've never been alone in this fight — and when it matters, I assure you, you never will be — but you need to concentrate on the battle, on the war. With me around, your thoughts are divided."
    The Watcher stepped forward towards them both and cleared his throat.
    "The Vampire is right," Alex could tell those words stung in his mouth like an ulcer. Suddenly, he was slightly uplifted. "You must develop your own skills and abilities. You must be ready for the next battle. And the one after that. And after that..."
    Amber glanced at the man, but shook her head and turned back to Alex, a tear streaking down her cheek. "...Where will you go?"
    "I don't know." Alex sighed in reply, and took a deliberate step back — hands still in pockets. "I'll find somewhere. Somewhere to train — get myself ready." He stared down to Amber, lifted his hands out of his pockets and placed them on her shoulders. "And when the time comes — I'll return. We'll fight.... We'll win." She smiled and tried to wiped the tears from her eyes by closing them — only forcing another pair down her cheeks instead.
    Alex smiled at her, drew his thumb across her cheek and wiped the tear from her face. They shared a moment — perfect friends — and then Alex's hands dropped to his sides and he took another step back.
    "I'll be back." He said to Amber, taking yet another step backwards, she began to realise that he wasn't wasting any time.
    "You're going? Now?"
    "It's better this way. I will be back though. I promise."
    Amber sniffed, another tear dripping down her cheek to replace the one Alex had just removed and turned to look at the Watchers — all of whom were looking pretty self-satisfied. By the time she turned back to look to Alex, he was already gone — the huge wooden doors to the room ajar and wind whipping in from the opened front door. The breeze blasted past Amber, kissed coldly against the tears on her face and blew out the crackling fire — dousing the Slayer and her Watchers in darkness...
    #2 Doctor Oak, Apr 26, 2007
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  3. Doctor Oak

    Staff Member Overlord

    New York. Present Day.

    Alex slid shut the heavy steel door to his now-home in an abandoned factory on the East Side and slammed the large deadbolt at the centre of it into the wall, locking it securely. Looking around, he'd managed to make the space rather homely — it wasn't that large an area, barely bigger than the size of a normal apartment, but the fact it had a basement downstairs meant that the huge windows on the front side of the building weren't a big fire hazard for him, though he was safe enough to generally walk around most of the space upstairs in the daytime anyway. The factory floor, once home to ceiling high machines of various uses was now taken up mostly with stuff Alex had secured on a good offer from a demon-run gym a number of blocks over: Treadmills, Punching Bags, Weights — he even had a small archery range set up with arrows and puncture marks littering the bullseyes on the half dozen or so targets.
    He looked around, taking note that the sunlight was shining in from the windows and bathing the street entrance door in deadly UV. He found himself being thankful that he didn't receive mail — it would be awfully difficult to pick it up with that obstacle in the way. Shaking his head as if to dispel the random thoughts creeping into his idle mind, he headed over to the office that took up the rest of the floor space. Originally designed as a room where management could do all the day-to-day paperwork as well as keep a watchful eye on the workers, it was perfectly situated and had windows in every section of the wall, including glass on the door. The office was fairly large and was still completely furnished from the original owners — filing cabinets, a desk with a prime view to the factory floor and a moderately decent computer — though the hard-drive had been wiped. Alex had never really been too well filled in on what the factory was actually for originally, or why it was vacant with everything but the office materials stripped out, but finding a roll of the yellow "POLICE LINE — DO NOT CROSS" tape in the top drawer of the desk gave him the notion that the previous tenants hadn't simply moved on to bigger and better things.
    The office had a stairwell to the basement, which was presumably originally used as a relaxation lounge for the factory staff as it had a fully plumbed kitchen and bathroom, with a bed, a dining table and a working fridge hauled down, it was perfect living quarters for Alex. It even had another room separated off that he used as an armoury — though he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it would have originally been used for. Alex headed down into the basement, moved over to the bed and collapsed on it exhausted. He sat up to take off his jacket, revealing a huge slash down his arm from a battle during the night — wincing as the leather peeled off the skin and blood — then lay back down again, staring up at the reinforced roof — which at some point had been painted over in a horrible beige colour that didn't really go with the wood panel stylings of the rest of the basement.
    For a year now, he had been out here — in New York — fighting the good fight alone, training for the day when he could return to England to fight alongside The Slayer once again. He longed to see Amber again, and had grown to terribly miss her company, but he knew deep inside that the next time he did see Amber, it would probably be the last time. He had separated himself from her because he knew that she had to be ready for whatever was coming next — but when the time should come for Alex to return, it would be a battle she was unlikely to survive anyway — however prepared she was. She was The Slayer, and Slayers come with a short shelf life. The next apocalypse could be her last.
    Alex knew the battle in which the love of his eternal life, Daisy — the previous Slayer — was killed was always going to be the one she died during. It was her destiny to go into the heart of Hell and die. Amber was central to a prophesy that involved both the Slayers and the Vampire with a Soul — and he was the linking key between the two. The prophesy had been lost, Alex had only transcribed a few paragraphs of it before it was stolen. It was enough to know Daisy's fate — but not enough to know his own or Amber's. Whatever was in the rest of that scroll was key to both their lives — and very likely, their deaths.
    Alex had wondered if he was destined to kill Amber the way he had killed Daisy... and that thought would drive him to insanity... He closed his eyes, cleared his mind and slept until the sun went down again.


    Rachel Vallade was scared. Hell, she was downright bricking it by this stage. Gun in hand, she pressed herself against the shadowed wall and, though sweating buckets and barely breathing, slowly craned her neck around the corner of it — looking down into another alleyway crossing off from the one she was standing in. There was a dead end at the end of it — just a huge brick wall from one of the buildings out on the front of the street, and between her and it, a bunch of black bin-bags full of rubbish, two large metal dumpsters overflowing with rubbish and three men way too well dressed to be standing in a stinking alley on the East Side of New York at any time, let alone this time of night. They were the men she was looking for alright — and all three of them were standing around having a quiet, but frantic, argument with each other. And, what was making Rachel even more nervous, waving guns around at each other like they were extra fingers.
    These men were dangerous and everyone in that alleyway knew it. They knew it enough to know that those three, for all their posturing, were never going to shoot each other. But Rachel knew it enough to know that that didn't mean they wouldn't shoot her. Her heart began to pound loudly in her chest. She could barely hear what any of them were saying — but made all the extra effort necessary to ensure she did. She would much rather stay here and listen to them to find out what she needed to know than confront them and probably get herself killed.
    "Franky the Corlocks says everything is go for the weekend. I'll have yer money on Monday." Said the short thin one, his accent was either genuine mob heritage or developed from watching way too much Sopranos.
    "The Corlocks says that now does he? Well, I can take a Corlocks at his word." The fat balding one seemed to be the head honcho of the three, or at least he was certainly dominating this guy easily. He didn't sound like a mobster — but by damn did he ever look the spit of Tony Soprano himself. Rachel was fighting the thought itching to cross her mind that she should take a photo of him and send it into one of those look-a-like columns in trashy newspapers for a bit of quick cash. Instead, she stayed content with the thought that people in the mob have the oddest nicknames — 'The Corlocks'? What was that meant to mean anyway?
    "You may, Frank," The third man spoke, he was well built and unlike the other two, who appeared to be in their thirties or forties, he was definitely older — grey wispy hair making up what little was left atop of his head. This man was Johnny 'The Killer' Ralph — there were no prizes for guessing how he got his nickname. He was the reason Rachel had come to this soaking wet and smelly alley, and she severely wished he wasn't.
    "You may be able to take Corlocks at their word through some ancient code" He continued. "I, on the other hand, am more realistic." He pulled his gun up straight and pointed it at the short thin Sopranos wannabe's forehead, who instead of raising his gun to defend himself, simply backed off a bit and held his hands up. The Tony Soprano clone may have been pretty domineering, but this Ralph guy was enough to terrify the dickens out of both of them, the fat balding Tony Soprano guy holding up one of his hands to Johnny Ralph as if to say "Hey, not my problem."
    He's not going to shoot him. Rachel reminded herself as her blonde hair became tangled and attached to her face from the sweat she was still leaking at a fascinating rate.
    She was sure of it, but the short thin guy didn't seem as convinced.
    "Listen Johnny..." He protested. "You have my word for it. You have the Corlocks' word for it. You will have your money on Monday. If not, kill us both then!"
    Ralph mused on the idea, but kept his gun firmly aimed at his would-be victim's forehead.
    "See, the problem is — I don't trust either of you. And if I let you go now, you have the whole weekend to do a runner and try and escape me." The thin guy protested again.
    "I wouldn't Johnny. Honestly!"
    "Well, I'll tell you what." He lowered the gun and placed a hand on his hip. "You have your weekend. You do the job, you get my money and you give it to me not more than an hour after you do the joint over. If I wait even 61 minutes, I hunt you down, gut you, and feed you to the Tarnakas I have guarding my estate." He placed his gun into his pocket and cocked his head. "Got it?"
    "Oh, yes, yes... of course.. yes." The guy was practically kissing the ground for still being alive, Rachel had a horrible niggling feeling that Ralph would have been more interested in killing the guy than getting his money though. Enough of a feeling that she assumed that the short thin guy with the Sopranos accent was as good as dead anyway — late or not. Again, her heart was thumping a deafening beat in her chest.
    "Get lost." She heard Ralph biting off at his soon-to-be dead acquaintance, then heard quick footsteps dashing towards her as the short thin man dove out of the alleyway. She forced herself further against the wall, gun still in hand, and tried to make herself as invisible as possible as he came to the T-junction in the alley and, thankfully, headed off in the opposite direction to where Rachel was standing. She heard murmurs from down the alley as the Tony Soprano guy and Johnny Ralph were having a quiet discussion about tonight's events. Eventually, the fat bald guy headed off too — leaving just Johnny The Killer Ralph and Rachel Vallade in the alley.
    She peered round, wondering why Ralph had hung back, and saw him lighting up a cigarette and looking around. She watched him for about five minutes, and he continued to simply stand in the middle of the alley and smoke his cigarette — as if waiting for something to simply fall from the sky.
    And then something did.
    Large black jacket flapping in the wind as he dropped down from what looked like the roof of one of the buildings surrounding the alley- at least a 40 foot drop — a man with thick blonde hair stood up from the drop to stand face to face with Ralph — and unfortunately, with his back to Rachel. Neither man greeted each other, but Ralph was the first to speak.
    "Looks like this is your chance to prove to me you're what you say you are." He drawled as he shifted the cigarette to the side of his mouth.
    "You want me to make sure he gets the money?" The blonde man's accent was... odd. It decidedly wasn't New York, nor Phoney-Soprano. Rachel couldn't even place it at all, it was like an accent picked up from years of travelling...
    "The money is no longer a concern. I'll get what I'm owed and more after Carlos is dead — one way or another." Ralph took the cigarette from his mouth and used his other hand to pull out a brown envelope from his jacket pocket and hand it to the blonde.
    "You want me to kill Carlos?" He replied. Rachel's heart skipped a beat.
    "No, Carlos is mine," Ralph seemed to take disgusting pleasure from that thought. Now Rachel's sweat covered skin was crawling. "just sort out the Corlocks. He'll probably try to get out of town before the job. In fact, he'll probably bolt tonight after Carlos catches up with him. Franky is a smart demon," Rachel's face emoted a confused expression, then determined she must have misheard what he said.. He's as smart as a demon or something, probably. "he'll know Carlos is a dead man money-or-not."
    "So, why the Corlocks? From what I see, his only involvement is the job itself?" The blonde guy was the only man Rachel had seen even asking a question of Ralph — let alone standing up to him. She began to suspect — if the 40 foot leap hadn't tipped her off to anything before — that this guy wasn't just muscle. Ralph didn't seem best pleased by this fact, but answered anyway, satisfied that he was still in charge of the discourse.
    "The bastard was never going to give me my money. Or Carlos for that matter. He was going to get Carlos to do the work and take off with the cash. Once he knows Carlos is a dead man walking, he'll be a smart boy and get the hell away from Ground Zero.
    "Make sure Ground Zero comes to him. Got it?"
    The blonde nodded and stuffed the unopened envelope into his own jacket pocket.
    "The Corlocks will be dead before sunrise." He said calmly. Again, Rachel's heart jumped. Ralph seemed to study the blonde for a few seconds, before placing his cigarette back into his mouth and walking on out of the alley. "See that he is, then see me tomorrow night." He called back out of the corner of his mouth, then he headed out the same way that the other two had gone — Rachel squashing herself into the wall again and sweating even more profusely, if Ralph saw her now, she was dead — no questions asked. Thankfully he reached the end of the alley and climbed into a limo waiting at the end of it which then drove off. She sighed and relaxed before realising that there was one more person left in the alley. She turned around again and looked into the alley expecting to see the blonde — she didn't. Just as quickly as he had appeared, he had disappeared.
    She was content that she was still alive after all that, and had finally stopped sweating, but sighed as she leant back against the wall — more relaxed this time — not really sure if she'd actually learnt anything that would help her after all that. Except that blonde guy... She thought. He's a new player — and there's definitely something about him that's... off... He'd be a good lead. If I could actually find out who the hell he is....
    Sighing again, mostly still from recovering from the ordeal she'd just been through without actually being through anything, she placed the gun in the holster on her belt and removed the Police Badge from her back pocket, placing it behind the gun instead — she had once sat down in her car with the badge still in her pocket, she knew never to do it again — and headed out of the alley. I'm totally pushing for worker's comp. out of this...
    #3 Doctor Oak, Apr 26, 2007
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  4. Linkachu

    Linkachu Hero of Pizza
    Staff Member Administrator

    I guess I shouldn't be surprised by this after you mentioning that you'd watched the first episode of Angel again XD

    Well, I'm intrigued. I feel bad for Amber and want to bitch-slap the Watchers (as usual), but I'm hooked enough to see where this leads with Alex and our lady cop. Here's hoping you stay interested/inspired for a bit ^^
  5. Prof. Cinders

    Prof. Cinders Mathemagician
    Staff Member Administrator

    Why is it that the first thing I check when I finally get back online (the school computers have blocked Charms, for being a videogames site, apparently >

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