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Old 10-13-2009, 11:41 PM   #7
Jedi_Man
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Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: The Death of All Things.
Posts: 521
Current Game: Too many to count
Sam cleaned the rifle his father had given him. It was a bit old, but far better than any new rifle. Like a violin, good wine and some movies, it only got better with age. Sam smiled at the analogy.
He put it away, ceasing his smile. He was one of the few people perpared for the Plague. They were coming, close, through the Zarkand system, Straight to zarlandia. They were heading for Sol, Heaven knows why.
"Ares." Sam called out.
His personal AI, Ares (Named after the god of war), appeared in the room.
"Yes sir, what can I do for you?" Ares said, his hand resting on the hilt of his broadsword. He'd chosen the Barbarian king/ viking look, sans a beard and mustache.
"Tell my family to get their packs ready, If the Plague hits nearby, I want to be gone with in five minutes." He said to the AI.
"Yessir! I'll tell them at once." Ares said, and then was gon to other parts of the house.
Five minutes might be too long... Sam thought gloomily as he loaded a magazine.


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Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.
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