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This is for people who want to make Kamen Riders OCs that fit into the Kamen Rider Dragon Knight Universe but are bad drawers.
This is basiclly a Template for profiles.
Feel free to download and use this to create you own Kamen Rider OC.

I don't owned Kamen Rider Dragon Knight
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YAY another Marauders interview! with Sirius, James, Remus and Roxi (my character - the 5th marauder)
i thought it was due to have another one up here :) and this one is allll about thier past :P it also ticks childhood off my fanart100 thingy :D cos i cheat that way :XD:
hope you like :D heh geez Sirius and James would be so arrogant and unmodest to the brink that its loveable.
and yes.. Sirius is a rude guy- they all are - even Remus is. so shush ;)
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This story was a gift to mikakitty for her fabulous 31st birthday. Mika asked for a tale of Valkyries and the old Norse gods, and I was happy to oblige. Be sure to download the PDF version, which has the illustrated frontispiece and illustrations by Lorenz Frølich!

Hrist and Mist
I want my horn to bring to me;
Skeggold and Skogul,
Hild and Thrud,
Hlok and Heifjoter,
Gol and Geirahod,
Randgrid and Radgrid,
And Reginleif;
These bear ale to the einherjars

Among the slain on the blood-soaked earth could be found the dying ones, nearly powerless in the face of inevitable death and yet void of destiny. Spirit they had not, sense they had not, blood they had not, motion they had not. Thence came the maidens, the Valkyrjur, choosers of the elected, choosers of the slain. Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr who was king of the Valir, led their number, and it was she who went to the great mead-hall that had been overtaken by battle to claim those within. She had come for their lord, but was waylaid by another who lay across him.

Alone she sat without hope, dying from many wounds, eyes glazed. A sword she clenched in one hand, a cloven shield in the other. "Stay a moment, stranger," said she.

"What wouldst thou ask of me?" said Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr. "Why temptest thou me to stray from my appointed duty?"

"I am pledged to yield this place to none, be they man or woman, and I wouldst know thy name before I strike it from thee."

Ölrún laughed a harsh laugh. "What couldst thou hope to do, thou who are bled out and soon embraced by death? I am Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, head of this host of Valkyrjur. We are bade by Odin the Valfather to rule over this victory and choose from among those who are slain who is to be borne to Valhalla as einherjar, there to feast and battle with life eternal until Ragnarök comes to the seat of the gods and they issue forth to join the Valfather in the end of battles and the end of days. The others are bound for Fólkvangr, the afterlife field of wise Freyja."

"Kára I am called, 'the wild,' 'the stormy one,' 'the curly one,' my hair and temperament tangled therein to earn it. As I fell I saw thee from afar coming, the Valkyrjur, ready over the winds to bear those for Valhalla and Odin's table. But from thine own lips did I wish to hear this."

"Then heard it thou hast," replied Ölrún. "Now stay thy tongue as I tend to my work."

"Stay a moment, Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, Valkyrja of Odin," said Kára. "I wouldst speak and treat with thee."

"We of the helmets battleworn, we of the coat-of-mail glistening with gold, we of unsheathed swords and bannered spears borne on swans' wings see to our duty amid the slain where they lay and where they feast," said Ölrún. "We do not speak, nor do we treat, with the dead or with the living save to name ourselves and our work."

"But by thine own admission I am bled out and soon for death," said Kára. "Therefore neither living nor dead am I, but betwixt and between. Sayest thine code aught of those neither living nor dead?"

Ölrún considered this riddle, and she did alight from her rounds near the place where Kára did lie. "Well spoke if not well met, Kára," said she. "Speak, then, if thou art so determined to be heard."

"I ask a boon of thee, Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, though not a boon unearned."

"Valkyrjur do not grant boons for any to which they are not sworn," said Ölrún. "Many have asked, many have sought parley and bargain. None have been honored so, and it will not be thee who is the first."

"Then there is naught to be lost in the listening."

"There is naught to be gained, either. But I will hear this boon that thee might have thine denial, that thee might be satisfied, and that thee might allow my work to unimpeded resume."

"My boon is this: wouldst thou hear my story and allow me one final question?"

Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, didst consider this. It was no more than she had already granted, in allowing herself into conversation be drawn, and as a Valkyrja she had answered many questions of the dead souls she bore to the Valfather as einherjar. "Speak then. I shall stop thee if it become wearisome."

"Two kings made war on each other," said Kára. "One was Gunnar Harefoot, aged and ruthless but oft believed beloved of Odin, who promised victory many a time through devotion to the Valfather. The other was Agnar Hodasson, a brother of Hoda Hodasson, whom no divinity wouldst patronize."

As a Valkyrja, Ölrún was privy to much but not all; thus she bade the dying woman continue, for this was a tale unknown to her.

"Seasons past, Hoda Hodasson set forth with his brother's blessing and under his brother's name to make good on his boast to raid Eystribyggð for tribute and treasure. But he was seized by a sudden madness and put Hvalsey Farm to the sword after they had paid for their freedom in gald, and in so doing desecrated a runestone raised in the Valfather's name. Word spread of the deed, and many believed that henceforth Odin wouldst never allow Agnar victory in battle. When Gunnar Harefoot marched on Agnar Hodasson, few wouldst answer their lord's call. All but the most loyal of his jarls and housecarls didst desert him."

"This part of the tale I do know,"  Ölrún said. "For these are Agnar Hodasson's jarls and housecarls who lay about this place, slain in their duties to their master, are they not?"

"No," said Kára. "They were cut down as they fled, their oaths forgotten in the face of Gunnar Harefoot. My father was to Agnar sworn. I was to Agnar sworn. We were all that by him stood when the end glinted in sharp steel."

"Alone?" Ölrún did survey the carnage, which she had thought to be the toil of many swords.

"Agnar was laid low early with wounds, and my father bent with age and the cares of a long hard life. When they didst fall, I stood above them with sword and shield. Until I was overwhelmed, and my sworn charges put to the sword."

"What wouldst thou ask of me, then, in honor of such a deed?" asked the Valkyrjur, curious.

"Takest me, O Valkyrja, to Asgard as an einherjar of the Valfather. Let me leave to enter the great Hall of the Slain, Valhalla, that I might be with those to whom I was sworn. Let me behold, with mine own eyes, the five hundred forty doors, the endless glory of battle. Let me partake, as I partook upon this field, in the eternal honors and glories of righteous battle. Let we who wouldst not foreswear our oaths, but bound them in blood, be made whole at the Valfather's table, to feast upon Sæhrimnir's flesh and Læradir's nectar. Let me take up the place I have earned beneath Glasir's boughs, for thou seest spread out before thee the evidence of my deeds in battle. Let me ride once more to battle with my kin when the Gjallarhorn doth sound and Ragnarok doth begin." Kara's words were not a plea, for there was no pleading upon her visage. Nor were they an order, for despite her curt manner she had maintained the proper tone of respect. Hers was a tone firm but understated, a laborer asking their wage after a hard day in the fields.

"That is not thy place, nor thy request to make." Ölrún's words, by contrast, glinted as polished sunlit steel and growled with the menace of the battleborn. "In recognition of thy deeds, thou shalt be borne to Fólkvangr, abode of Freyja, there to keep company in the hall of Sessrúmnir with the less-honored slain, with Þorgerðr Egilsdóttir and others among the honored slain."

"By thy leave, Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, Valkyrja of Odin the Valfather, I cannot accept," replied Kára.

"Thou wouldst dare refuse such a generous offer, one hardly ever extended to those such as thyself?" cried Ölrún.

"I wouldst. For I wouldst rather go to Hel with those who perished wickedly or in bed than to forsake that which my actions and oaths have earned. I wouldst rather speak to Hel herself of the injustices of our world than repose in shame in Fólkvangr."

"Then thou shalt receive what thou hast earned with thy impudence: naught." Ölrún, bent to hiss her reply, bore a visage as wrought stone beneath her winged helm. "Nothing."

"I had feared such wouldst be thy reply, Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, Valkyrja of Odin the Valfather," said Kára sadly. "I had hoped I wouldst not have to use my last recourse to obtain what is rightfully mine."

Ölrún was about to ask what that might be when she realized that the scabbard at her side was empty. While she had been drawn close in parlay with Kára, the latter had slipped shining Grimmhundr from its carefully oiled scabbard. Forged by an elder Svartálfaheimr whose name was unknown to all save himself, Grimmhundr was one of the Thirteen Sisters--blades commissioned by the Valfather himself from the blood of the righteously slain commingled with deep adaman. Ölrún had borne it without cease since it had fallen from the grasp of Viðrnipt at the Battle of Åland, and it could only be raised by a hand that was both pure and proven in battle.

Using Grimmhundr as a crutch, Kára struggled to her feet. Her wounds oozed anew at the effort, spilling forth yet more ichor and shortening her few moments left with each spasm, but she succeeded in getting to her feet. Then, balancing before the astonished Valkyrja, Kára pointed the sword at her exposed throat in a perfect swordsman's move.

The only weapons left to Ölrún were Hvasskvistr, the long spear forged from the tongue of great Jörmungandr's twentieth son, and a small hunting-knife, both of which put her at a serious disadvantage against even a wounded foe at such close range. All Kára had to do was thrust, and she could end Ölrún.

"So is that it? Thou wouldst threaten me to gain entrance to the Valfather's sacred halls? Surely thou must know that such a cowardly move couldst never succeed."

"No," gasped Kára. "Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, Valkyrja of Odin the Valfather, I only bare steel against thee to ask for a chance to prove my worth. Let me face thee in single combat, that I might prove in thine sight and the Valfather's that I am worthy of what I ask."

Ölrún considered this. "Very well, then," she said. "I will let thee taste of the Valfather's mead that thou need not face me burdened by thine wounds. But heed my words: shouldst thee lose, neither Valhalla nor Fólkvangr will await thee, only Hel and oblivion. That must be thy choice. Wilt thou accept these terms?"

Kára nodded. "I will, and thank thee for thine kindness."

"Very well."

Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, Valkyrja of Odin the Valfather, took back gleaming Grimmhundr from Kára's grasp, gave her a draught of the Valfather's mead from her drinking horn, and gave her a moment to select for herself arms and armor from among the slain. None would have stood but the slightest blow from Grimmhundr or Hvasskvistr, but in the twilight betwixt life and death all things were possible.

They bowed deeply to each other, and combat was joined.

Looking up, Kára saw that Ölrún had leapt at her, moving with incredible speed. Ölrún's blade met Kára's in a savage blow, sending the latter's weapon skittering across the battlefield.

Kára was able to wriggle away, though, ducking and rolling toward her fallen blade.

In response, Ölrún brandished the full length of bright Hvasskvistr, her spear, thrusting it at her foe's low and vulnerable face.

The blow was not quick enough; Kára felt a stinging wind above her from the blow but neither her purpose nor her momentum were impaired save for a momentary breathlessness, and she charged a few steps ahead, drawing the mace she had selected as a fallback and casting bright Hvasskvistr out of Ölrún's hand, though her follow-through attempt at a blow was nimbly avoided.

"A worthy foe," Kára grunted.

"How dost thou find this?" Ölrún snapped back.

Her mailed hand, spread, thrust toward Kára's chest; Kára saw too late the hilt of Grimmhundr clasped by the Valkyrja's fist in a reverse grip. A bright bolt of silver light flashed between them, and Kára found herself thrown twenty feet, leaving a trail of grass and dirt  where she skidded to a painful stop.

"Pathetic," Ölrún said. Turning on her heel, she began to approach with a slow, heavy step as Kára struggled to collect herself and get up. "That which is skill against a mortal is nothing against the Valkyrja."

Kára said nothing, wheezing as she tried to make her left arm respond from its limp position by her side, where it had been paralyzed by the intense strike of Grimmhundr.

Ölrún produced something from around her neck, flashing it in the sun. "This sigil is bestowed by the Valfather upon the worthy," she said. "I didst not earn it in the palty shieldmaidenry in which thou as a mortal hast partaken. As laudable and impressive as thy efforts against mortal opponents may be, they are as nothing now."

Twitching, Kára's arm still refused to respond to her summons, and with one leg twisted beneath her, there was no righting herself without it as Ölrún's calm, deliberate steps brought her to within a few paces.

Desperate for time as her limbs recovered from Ölrún's powerful blow, Kára looked up at her and spoke. "But are not all Valkyrja the daughters of mortal princes?" she cried. "Why is your idleness to be rewarded while my valor is not?" Ölrún was mere steps from Kára now. Crushed and flopping, her left arm and right leg felt pins and needles but showed no more inclination to move.

"We are the daughters of the Æsir," said Ölrún. She fell to one knee, Grimmhundr held up and clasped in a firm forward grip to deliver the killing blow, glowing and shimmering slightly with silvery radiance. "It is our birthright."

"A birthright is naught but an invitation to weakness," said Kára. "It is only through the making and keeping of oaths that true honor can be found."

"Weakness? Foolish mortal, it is not weakness. It is strength! Only from a strong seed canst a mighty tree grow, and only from birthright can a Valkyrja come." Ölrún's face was almost touching Kára's now. "Blood will, inevitably, out. Does it not make thee feel wonderful, O Kára, to have one such as I be the glorious battle that ends thee?"

"Truly?" Kára said, with a bitter laugh. "It does. Thank you."

Kára's attack caught Ölrún completely off guard. She lashed out with her newly motile left arm, still aflame from the impact of Ölrún's last attack, and followed by shifting her weight to her left leg and sweeping the right one. With a howl, Ölrún was knocked off balance and then sent crashing down, while Kára was able to use her momentum to regain her footing.

Limping desperately across the open stony field, Kára made it to her sword and picked it up. Ölrún had taken a moment to find her footing as well, and came up with several new scrapes and cuts. This time, though, Kára didn't trust to luck: she attacked at once, swinging at the Valkyrja and landing several powerful blows.

Ölrún cried out and stumbled backward. She lashed out with her blade again, but the expected silvery flame flickered and died before the weak blow could be struck. The next strike from Kára's blade knocked it cleanly from the Valkyrja's grasp.

"I will have what is mine, what has been earned!" Kára said through the percussive music of combat. "Yield!"

In response, Ölrún swayed as if drunk on the Valfather's finest mead, before collecting herself. "Pray, do not think thou hast done anything but inconvenience me," she growled. "I shalt end thee you with my bare hands if need be."

Ölrún charged again; Kára sidestepped, but she had miscalculated and came down awkwardly on a leg still half asleep. Pivoting quickly, Ölrún delivered a vicious kick to the weakened leg. Kára stumbled backwards, the bones of her right shin shattering noisily.

Drawing her hunting knife, Ölrún sneered at Kára in a rage. "None can better a Valkyrja of the Valfather, least of all a mortal weakling!"

Kára kept up the rhythm of steel upon steel, parrying Ölrún's knife even as her right side sagged on a broken leg.

"Silence your pathetic struggling," Ölrún continued. Her mailed fist reached out with a speed that Kára would never have been able to muster, snatched the blade from the very fingers that held it. With a mighty blow worthy of the great sagas, Ölrún smashed the stolen blade onto a hard stone nearby.

"No!" Kára cried despairingly.

Ölrún, knife in hand, closed in to finish the work and end the duel. moments before striking the blow, though, she stopped. Confused, she looked down.

Kára had taken up one of the shards of her shattered blade. Though it had nearly severed her fingers to do so, she had pressed it home between the chinks in the Valkyrja's armor, which were now spattered with bright blood.

"Yield," Kára whispered gently. "Yield, O Ölrún, daughter of Kjárr, Valkyrja of Odin the Valfather."

"Truly, thou hast bested me," gasped Ölrún with a weak but sincere smile. "It seems thy request was perhaps not as insolent as it first appeared."

"What shall be done, then?" said Kára. "Shall I receive my just reward in death?"

"That…is for the Valfather to decide," said Ölrún. "I yield thee to his justice."

There are some who say that, in his anger, the Valfather cast Kára down into Hel, whence she became one of the most feared enforcers in that dread realm. There are some who say Kára was given over to Fólkvangr, where wise Freyja made her chief huntress and captain of her guard. But those who hear the far-off and distant horns of Valhalla on clear moonlit nights, those to whom the Valfather whisperes as their lifeblood spills on the fields of glorious battle, know that at least one woman rides with the chosen Einherjar host of Odin the Valfather, and that she did so by both word and deed.

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:star:Rules for Template:star:

1. Give me Credit
2. Link Back
3. Ask me if you don't understand something.
4. Feel free to use; don't ask me.

You know, I just got done watching every last episode of Code Lyoko, and I really liked it. Those of you who demanded more are stupid. What can they do with it?

X.A.N.A is dead, William is safe, and Franz Hopper is dead. Nothing more. If the Code Lyoko Evolution turns bad I blame the fanbase. You demanded more, so they will deliver.

Good luck getting it in English. Je parle franšais, je n'ai donc pas besoin d'une traduction. Il a fallu 2 ans, encore aux Útudes sur le mien.

(C) Code Lyoko belongs to Moonscape productions

Template belongs to me.
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The final demo version of the fan-dex for battle sisters 6th edition. Acts of Faith, Litanies, special rules for an Ecclesiarchy only army list. No fluff or pictures but full unit and rules description along with an army list entry for making lists.

Cover art by: Henry Ponciano.
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fyi, this is my first time writing narative format, so... just, be calm ok? :iconkarrie-chan: inspired this with her story outcasts prev: [link]

next: [link]
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Final Fantasy Adventure children oc's XP
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Did this one over, using the comments I recieved from my writting class as well as from those who read my first one.
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*Front page!? THANKS GUYS!! :D*

60,000 views in exactly 48 hours. Unreal. I'm flabbergasted and humbled by the response, again, thanks.

A quick note: I think the 'Indoctrination' theory is probably the best one out there. And I think it's a really friggin' cool idea as to why the ending is the way it is, even if I think it should have been tied up alot better. This was created for kicks as a 'this is the alternative the fans seem to want' piece. I don't think it's particularly good/clever, but I'm thrilled so many of you are enjoying it.

A quick revision of the dreaded ME3 Endings, which crippled what was otherwise a phenomenal game and trilogy.
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This is the character interview I'd done with Adha. Her character is so much deeper than I anticipated before I started this project.

I've been working SO FRIGGEN HARD on the Holes in the Mind project. I feel it is pointless at times to continue!

It is an assignment I've given myself where I have decided to test out all of the writing techniques I can in this story before I try it on my actual works. I have given Adha a past, and personality based on a DAYS OF RESTLESS RESEARCH and careful psychological analysis.
If you would like to more about the Holes in the Mind Project, please feel free to visit my gallery, the folder, The Writers Mind.

Your interest in my work means absolutely everything to me. It truly, truly does. :heart:

Oh, the picture... where did I get it... er... Assassin's Wiki? Yes. It isn't mine, and that isn't actually how I see Adha... I will draw her and post her soon. =)
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