conversations: human
conversations:  There are few things left in this world beyond the view of modern man. While this is a very real fact, many of these subjects slip by undetected because many deem them ridiculous or simply made up, and in some of the worse cases, "Fairy tales". The blind masses fail to see that the same reality of their holy religions and scriptures, stories passed for generations by word of mouth before actually written down, is the exact same process that many of our childhood rhymes and stories have taken. Now we have proof that Jesus, Muhammad, Moses, Buddha, and all these great spiritual leaders and icons have existed and many of their prophecies and beliefs have been scientifically proven to have taken place, so why cannot the same be said for our "made-up" fables? Were they not spread through word of mouth? Are their contents really more unbelievable than Moses parting the Red Sea?In these times more than ever the need for a real hero is dire. This is it; this is the stuff that men write stories about and pass on for centuries to come. To be remembered as a legend once is a feat most will never achieve. But to be remembered as a legend twice is...
    FABLES
     
   A man who, ironically, has been plunged into the media and the source and hero of many adoring adolescents is, at first glance, not what you would expect. For one thing, he isn't wearing a purple vest, red hat, and large sweat pants. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that he was involved with the FBSE, one would never expect that he was anything other than normal. Maybe incredibly good looking, but beyond that, still normal. However, the man who began to lean against one of the pillars of the circular chamber was none other than Aladdin. While his outer appearence held little recognition of his true identity, there were still many similarities between this man and our Disney classic. For one, he was still a street-rat, hated by police, but loved for his underworld connections. However, his most valuable asset was still the genie. Project: Genie, that is. A cybernetic component of the modern street rat, this Genie allows the user to access the internet from anywhere on the globe, hack into highly guarded mainframes with a simple thought, and even allows up-to-date satellite videos of the surrounding area, or anywhere else for that matter. And as such, he was the first to be notified, as well as the first to enter the circular room. 
   A brute of a man was already leaning against the wall of the room as Project: Genie entered it. He scoffed and turned to look the other way. The great hero Achilles cared not for others; after all, what was the purpose of having teammates if you couldn't be killed?
  Achilles sighed and looked around the room. So far it was just him and carpet-boy. Others should be there soon. A large, semi-circular table sat in the direct middle of the room, with the open end facing an extra-large HD screen. Currently the screen was off. The walls were made of marble with a very high ceiling but no windows anywhere. The room was instead brightly illuminated by lights that hung off the walls in various places. The ancient hero had seen this room so many times already he had grown bored with it and wished they could go somewhere, anywhere else for these meetings. At least once the meeting started he'd have something else to think about. If it ever started, with the rate people were arriving! 
conversations: Hoorex:
conversations: human
conversations:  Hephaestus 
  
  The conference room door swings open, and a craggy hulk of a man appears in the door, bowing his head to fit through the door.  The smith of the gods is no less ugly than legend paints him, though the tools he forges for these so-called gods are significantly less archaic.  He stood in the doorway for a moment, his fiery red hair clashing with the muted decor.  He looks uncomfortable in his oversized and specially tailored suit, and glowers into the room.  After a moment, he steps into the room, moving smoothly despite looking too big for the door.  As he closes it, you hear the distinct clink of metal under his black glove, and a corresponding clank when he sets down his backpack.  Awright, then, another meeting, huh?  Gods know they took enough time for the amount of work that usually (didn't) get done.  He'd much rather be back in his workshop tinkering - but on second thought, these meetings usually tended to mean a good brawl in the near future.  With that thought, he settles down in an overly ergonomic chair that creaks alarmingly under his weight, and tossing a curt nod at the other occupants of the room, proceeds to fiddle with something ambiguously metal that he fishes from his backpack.  Let's see who else is around the place today, eh? 
conversations: harmonictempest:
conversations: human
conversations:  Vassilissa 
  
  Vassilissa, dressed in business casual and with a braid from head to tail, steps into the room and shuts the door carefully behind her. Her steps are close to silent. She doesn't seem like much at first, not when compared to the two men, but in quieter, subtler ways, she shows her strength. It's mostly in her eyes - calm, clear eyes, eyes that look straight ahead instead of down at the ground.
  
  She sinks, a bit inelegantly, into a chair (which creaks in protest), absently half-sighs, "Hello, brothers," to the other occupants of the room, and goes off into her own world, waiting.
   
conversations: rubakhin:
conversations: human
conversations:  Baron Samedi  
  The Baron was never in a hurry. He could see the gathering in his mind's eye, and knew they were still awaiting him, but there were things he must attend to first. Namely young Cynthia. A poor young girl who passed from pneumonia, Samedi had taken the initiative to escort her personally. Her calm blue eyes held his fancy, and he regretted no visiting here earlier. He would settle for one sort journey to the Brightest Hill with this young beauty, and then make his way to the comparatively drab room where he was expected.
                 *                *                 *
  The door squeaked noisily, something it did not usually do, as Samedi gently pushed it open. He strode proudly, heels striking echoes upon the floor with each graceful stride, toward his alloted seat. Samedi surveyed the room,  "Well, well... Where is our dear friend Theseus? I haven't seen him in centuries!"  He winked at Achilles,  "Up and about again, are we?"  He chuckled nostalgically.
conversations: browng-08:
conversations: human
conversations:  Raven 
  
  A small bird flutters in after the Baron. Alighting on a chair its beady black eyyes survey the area. With a poof it turns into a man, tall, Native American. From his pocket he grabs a knife and begans casually flipping it up into the area.  "So how are things going?"  he asks looking at the others.
conversations: Aptera:
conversations: human
conversations:  Robin Hood 
  
  With the kind of regal swagger that can only be mustered through years of over confidence a man in comfortable but quiet (and borderline plain) gray and black attire with the only saving feature being an odd green feather hat. In jolly tone he speaks to the hole of the people in front of him with ease   "Greetings to all for I hope your day is as merry as mine...but i would be wise of your wallet, word on the street is that a thief of legendary skill is on the loose"  he then takes a seat and eyes the room with an overly joyful exterior. and yet seems to eventually fade into the wall behind his table despite his epic entrance.
conversations: JinCheese:
conversations: human
conversations:  Achilles 
  
  The man simply stared at the Baron, not even gracing him with his words. To speak to Achilles, the greatest warrior on earth, and a five-time UFC world champion, as well as the holder of five consecutive gold metals for Greece, was an honor, and very few were worthy of it. 
    Aladdin 
  Aladdin was about to make a smart ass remark, but suddenly something in his brain tingled, and immediately information flooded into his head. He processed it at an uncanny speed and discovered the source without much delay.
  
  "****, you guys, he's coming..."
  
  
  The keycard for their leader had been punched in at the door, alerting Aladdin to the presence of their leader immediately. In through the door walked a man roughly seven feet tall wearing a well-tailored black suit and neat tie. His dark beard covered the bottom of his chin and up to his sideburns. His hairline was receding far, but one would not consider him bald by any means. Balding, maybe. It seemed as if a hat was missing. Anyway, among these other distinct features was an eye patch over his left eye, and if you looked closely, his right hand was made of some sort of gleaming metal. His stare was lifeless and cold and the inhabitants of the room could immediately feel the aura of confidence he exuded. It was obvious who their leader was to anyone who'd used American currency; Abraham Lincoln.
  
  "Hello everyone and welcome, please have a seat. I'm glad you all could make it..."
  
  He sat at the front of the table and motioned for those who hadn't sat down already to sit.  
conversations: Hoorex:
conversations: human
conversations:  The Baron  
   "What then, Achilles? You don't recognize an old friend? I bet Hector remembers me... He was a man of good taste. Not like a certain too-big-for-his-britches Greek person I know." Samedi shook his head.  Hmph, Let a man come back from Hades, and he'll forget just who led him there  . Samedi thought, feeling rather indignant, something uncanny to the man. Samedi simply hated being ignored.
conversations: browng-08: