Date: Wed, 3 Dec 1997 13:37:42 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 150 - 237 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 150 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 12 18:07:57 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Escape. Dwight woke up from his slumber, glancing around the room, She was nowhere to be seen. Growling, he slammed the alarm button on his keypad, and the room turned to a dull red. "Computer, damn you, Location analysis!" he screamed. She had lied.. "Security reports a loss in power to section 210.E7A at 2100 hours. cause: Short circuit." the computer said in its normal monotone voice. "Aha. The girl found a way to break past my security.." he grumbled, and stood up, dressing quickly. "Computer, send all mutations on patrol, now!" he screamed over the blare of a warning klaxon as he raced down the hall. His experiments for today would definantly have to wait. "She knows the location of Shadowbrook, this can not be happening..." he muttered, racing past the rubble of old laboratory. "Computer, Run a satellite search on New Orleans. and make it snappy. I want all remote probes scanning that place." His voice calms down a bit. "As you wish." the computer flatly replies. He will find her.. his eyes gleamed with an inner emotion. -------------------------- Message 151 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 12 21:04:11 1997 EDT From: Karellen (#21084) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Thinking, the thinker Sweat trickled down the bare channel of Karellen's spine as her arms swept slowly from her sides to point over her head, then dropping slowly, hands parallel to the floor, calmness washing over her with the accustomed move. The blessed serenity of the old familiar tai-chi moves restored her shaken composure as surely as the sandstone walls of her pyramid grounded her energies. The questions she'd been plagued with now circled in a somewhat more orderly fashion in her mind. Why the cat lord? The madness had been temporary. The attraction should have gone away, as it had for the madman Kzin, thankfully. Why did she still see the shadowy form of Saben, what connection bound them? She would gladly sever it when she found it. As her Master had said so long ago, people's actions were motivated by fear and desire. She would find the cause, soon. But the unease remained." Her braid of black hair swung as she turned, the feather touch of the curling ends on her stomach brought back other thoughts. Hannibal. She smiled. Nothing whatsoever wrong there. Clean joy, that one was, untainted. Nevermind her own impatience. She was not pleased that she acted as if she were a twenty-year-old again with him, but...She would not yet call it love. That would remain to be seen. She felt her heart quicken as her mind imaged him. Great Kuan yin, had she lost all control of herself? She sighed with the fluttering in her stomach, wondering at herself. No need to go in search of the cause for *that*, at least." -------------------------- Message 152 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 13 07:50:54 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hope. Dwight tapped a few keys on his datapad, "Lets just see if we can pinpoint this.. Maison of Fabians." he grumbled as the map came up with nothing. "Oh well, I suppose technology isn't as good as regular common sense. With that, he stood up, and walked over to the sink, washing his face. "She will be mine again. that is for certain. Even if I have to get someone to.. keep Fabian busy." his smile turned dark as he walked out the door. -------------------------- Message 153 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 13 09:52:15 1997 EDT From: Jared (#20547) To: Jared (#20547) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Fire Jared looked down at the small burns littering her hands, the dull steady ache almost seemed a blessing, keeping her mind off other things. The fire had raced through the stable, lighting the hay and licking its hot tongue up the rafters. The terrified whinnies of the horses would stick with her a while. *Dagen* she thought. His scream as the loft collapsed into his stall still made her wish to vomit. There wasnt a damn thing she could have done. *I could have hit that bastard harder* she chuckled then at that thought, knowing he would have just hit her back as hard. She raised her hand to tentatively touch her swollen and puffy eyes. *thank god he didnt make me cry - 2 shiners and a very sore nose, next time ...* *NO NeXt time, looking like a raccoon is far from attractive* Jared curled onto the sofa, drawing the soft wool blanket around her. It was going to be a busy few days while things got sorted out. She better get her sleep now. -------------------------- Message 154 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 13 19:17:57 1997 EDT From: Pepper (#20413) To: *Storylines (#5236) Pepper ground the white pebbles back and forth in her fisted hand. Her anger gushed from every pore as she waited patiently for the ship to arrive. "How could he!?", she screamed into the swirling fog, "how could he bring that witch into the mansion?" Deep down she knew she had no chance in hell, the woman was a Nobel. A fine prize for Master Fabian to wear upon his arm. Pepper glanced down at her uniform, a bit wrinkled from lying on the floor of Fabian's room. "I'm a fool", she muttered , "I'm a fool to have believed his coy whispers, his velvet touch....perhaps a new job is what I need, another Master who enjoys my expert cleaning." Her thoughts turned to the Doctor, an overwhelming urgency seemed to surge through her. A bath is what she wanted, **what was that word the doctor told me** she wanted to bathe the way the doctor had taught her, **technology, the Doctor told me about technology**.... -------------------------- Message 155 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 13 19:49:40 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Again.. He had talked with the girl... how she said that her master was with another female.. "How very fortunate.. perhaps she will return to me.." he though to himself. "I have an interview with another Noble.. he wishes to check me out for a possible job position as a servant." Dwight's jealously flared within his eyes, yet his face smiled. "Very well, if that is your wish. remember what I had told you, my dear." his words were sincere, true to the heart. His mind and body yearned for her, and he wouldn't let her get away again. Her whispered words yet again sprung hope within him. -------------------------- Message 156 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 14 18:02:10 1997 EDT From: Warrick (#18285) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Whoa. He awoke from his sprawled out position on the floor, his head pounding insanely. "Guess that last wave konked me out.." he checked his watch. "Holy Crap! it's been mucho months!" he shook his head. "Ah well, Guess since I'm awake now, might as well try and find some people to socialize with." he exited his abode underwater, swimming out. -------------------------- Message 157 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 06:30:27 1997 EDT From: Fabian (#14268) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: In the middle of the night... Standing alone out on his balcony, where many of his fathers have been before him, Fabian LeCroix found himself in a bit of a scandel. For the first, the absolute first, time in his life, he's cared about something OTHER then wealth. His personal power, his family's power... meant nothing in aspect to what is going on in his moderately simple life. "Father would NEVER approve.." of this, he kept repeating to himself, pacing around the room at a moderate tempo. He looked up at the moon, and swore he saw her face... He shaked his head, shrugged his shoulders, and continued pacing. Two women as of late have been prancing around in Fabian's mind, parading if you will... One of them is Kael Saint-Saens. Her beauty left him breathless, as did her voice.. And she wanted him back equally, obviously marriage minded. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He asked himself, dead serious and lacking any humor. He had recently appointed her Timothy's music teacher, so would be spending a lot of time with her... Alone.. At the darkest hours of night.. Making beautiful music together. Fabian slowly walked into his Maison, turning straight to his room. His maid, Pepper, was lying on the bed. "Strange.." he thought. "Ah diden't heah her come in.." He studied her carefully. Her ravenous figure was very attractive, and stood out in his mind. She obviously knew her way around the streets, and his heart.. But he would never show the her his "emotional" side. Never. He looked at the moon yet again through his window, and asked in a very confused state, "Fathah.. what am Ah supposed to do??" The room remained silent, the lone sound of Pepper's breathing echoed throuhgout it. Fabian was no longer a boy, he is a man and has been since the day his parents died, putting him, and him alone, in charge of his household. He thought to himself, "Well.. it could be worse. Ah *could* be an elf." Before taking off his clothes, slipping under the covers, and falling fast asleep.... -------------------------- Message 158 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 10:54:24 1997 EDT From: Karellen (#21084) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Chasing racing thoughts Karellen snuggled closer to Hannibal's sleeping form, the cold in her limbs having nothing to do with the coolness of the room. She buried her face in the muskiness of his hair and closed her eyes, wishing he would wake, wishing for the cleansing fire of his need and her own to clear her mind. Great Kuan Yin, what was she to do? Were these folk *all* so blind? Her frustration at being unable to *show* what she knew to be true made her want to scream and hit things. She knew she hadn't the patience she needed to be any sort of teacher, but still...And there was Hannibal...Great Lord Buddha, the temptations and madness of lust! What had been a silent and peaceful world inside her mind now fairly spun like a wheel of fire. She grabbed at her head as if that would help when she knew it would not. The fight, the skeleton-thing, the girl, the attack...Bright Lady, was she going mad at last? How much she needed the solitude of the desert! " She ran her hand under Hannibal's shirt, buried her face in his hair again and tried to sleep..." -------------------------- Message 159 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 15:06:25 1997 EDT From: Stryfe (#5113) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Thoughts Stryfe stood on Uruken's ledge, the wind whipping thru his gray peppered hair, alone in thought. 'Why do I let her get to me so? She is so defensive and hyper-critical of herself and her job. Most of the time we only end up arguing. I do not know why I do not just give up on her.' Another gust of wind sweeps the ledge. 'I know why, I like her temper. And the few times we have been intimate were quite extraodinary. The though of her in just that body paint still makes my body heat rise. And the verbal sparring we do is quite amusing at times. She says one thing, but she shows another.' He turns to walk in out of the biting wind, 'I think I will ask her to be my guest at the tourney in a few days. She can only say no after all.' -------------------------- Message 160 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 15:48:49 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: change Kaitlyn looked around the great expanse of her bedroom and wondered what she was thinking. The tapestry on the wall and the covering on her bed all represented parts of her family's history. "Family", Kaitlyn the word out of her mouth with disgust. "My father cannot even be bothered to keep a promise to me, my mother is gone all the time and, and Gabriel.. oh Gabriel I miss you." The smile from Kaitlyn's face had long since faded. She reached out touching the teddy bear and eternal rose that Morrigan had left her. Sighing wistfully she spoke to her empty room, "Inanimate objects. That's all that stays with me." Kaitlyn opened up the Mahogany box sitting at the foot of her bed and carefully picked up the weapons she'd acquired since returning from the Unseelie courts with her Father and Brother. Kaitlyn slipped out into the wastelands, turning her head one last time to glance back at her home, at DarkReach. She shook her head and murmured as the winds began to pick up, "it's not like anyone will notice", a smile halfway reaches her lips, "'cept maybe Percival.. 'cept Percival." -------------------------- Message 161 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 16:53:56 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Madness "So, the Lord has once again beaten me in the eternal game.." Dwight smirked, slamming a savage fist into his punching back. "The fucking Noble." he spat out noble with a heightened disgust. "To think I was so blind. Not anymore." he smiled at his beauties which scurried about, chittering savagely. **The Villagers in Drach'nal are in an uproar, they are afraid.** His thoughts drift back, and he steadies himself again, "NO! This will NOT happen." he growled, punching up an few keys on his computer, A faint blip on a satellite trajectory. His smile grew dark, "She will be of some use to me yet. The maid will get me into New Orleans' heart.." -------------------------- Message 162 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 16:54:25 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Re: previous Scuse my typing. -------------------------- Message 163 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 19:04:21 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: coldness.. The weather outside was vastly changing as the trees have almost lost all their leaves. Jaelene stood at the window of the bedroom she shared with Toraxyn. Her thoughts drifted to him and to the daughter that had become quite important to her. Jaelene had been practicing at hiding her thoughts from Toraxyn and wondered it if was working. Each day she grew to love both of them more and yet the fear growing inside her was becoming overwhelming. Jaelene stared at the dagger from across the room. It held so much yet nothing at all. Hearing Darisa fussing in the other room, Jaelene shook her head from her thoughts hoping Toraxyn would get home soon. She missed him. She missed his strength, his touch.. -------------------------- Message 164 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 19:58:00 1997 EDT From: Candy (#12541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Light The dream came again, the light following her, covering her in a violent glow. Candy opened her eyes slowly, allowing the dream to escape, but the light still lingered. Glancing over to where the brightness seemed to originate, inhaling sharply from fear as she locked eyes with the strange man who stood in the open doorway. Stray rays of the day breaking sun filtered around him, illuminating the small room in which she slept. Sitting up quickly, clutching the cotton sheets around her nakedness. Unable to make a sound she stared into his wild eyes. His features cast in shadows, but his eyes, intense, overwhelming. Then, with a slam of the door he was gone, leaving Candy alone with the fear he had brought within. -------------------------- Message 165 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 20:01:47 1997 EDT From: Tadewi (#16048) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: [Tadewi (#16048): Rathe and Tadewi, at it again.] Date: Sun Oct 12 14:09:26 1997 CDT From: Tadewi (#16048) To: Tadewi (#16048) Subject: Rathe and Tadewi, at it again. The double doors to the north open and Rathe steps into the ballroom. Rathe flops down on the throne, sprawling out on it lazily. Tadewi smirks at you, "Very nice throne, your highness." Her voice drips with sarcasm. Rathe smirks back at you, "Ah, my lovely wife. What a pleasant surprise. Was there something you wanted?" Tadewi glides over towards your throne, still angelic though evidently feeling sarcastic, "Giving tours of your aquisitions to your friends now?" Rathe smiles at you, "Actually, her exact wish was something on the order of.. ''So, where's the holy bed?''.. Jealousy is such a bother." Rathe [to Tadewi]: But yes, she wished to see the mansion Rathe chuckles. "Seems the rumor mongers don't understand my utter lack of interest in you" Tadewi laughs and shakes her head, "As if you could if you wanted." Rathe smirks at you, "I take what I want, and am quite capable of doing so. Don't put me to the test, Tadewi." Tadewi archs a pale brow at you, "You yourself said you had no interest in me, so I certainly have nothing to worry about." She leans in closer to you, "But I am hardly as weak as you think and taking me would not be easy, if possible." Rathe seems amused "Aren't you, Tadewi? With a gesture," he raises his hand, and the rooms windows suddenly fling themselves open, cold wind rushing into the room. "I can paralyze you, break your mind, destroy you, make you dance like a puppet." his hand closes into a fist, and he lowers it while leaning forward very, very slowly. he smiles coldly, "You are mine, Tadewi Mystique. Do not try to fool yourself otherwise" Tadewi simply smiles, though her attempt to ignore the cold in the room almost betrays her with a slight trembling of her hands, "My father once said, long ago, that the greatest swordsman was finally destroyed by a simple farmer with a pitchfork. Words to remember, _Lord_ Rathe." Rathe's arm snaps forwards, and he catches your chin in his hand. His fingers seem amazingly cold, almost to the point of freezing the flesh within his grip. He studies you for several moments, then releases you, smiling and rising from his throne. The wind wipping through the room slowly begins to die down, now only the chill remains. Rathe glances around for a moment, then looks back to you. "All this is still yours, Tadewi Mystique. It is in my power to take it away. Do not make me take such rash action." Sighing heavily, Rathe slowly straightens on the throne, rising. Tadewi touches her chin, rubbing it as if trying to warm her cold flesh again. Her eyes follow you hatefully, but she says nothing further. Rathe pushes your shoulder to the side slightly, stepping past your and out into the hall. Rathe leaves through the double doors to the north -------------------------- Message 166 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 20:04:43 1997 EDT From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Turnabout The restless sensations failed to still themselves in her. She had railed against remembering, vainly wishing for the ability to drive all that had passed out of hert mind. How easily he had been able to reach though the defenses the divided them... the images arose in her mind again, and she saw it now as she had lived them once, and relived them along with him. The wall had crumbled away like charred paper at a feather touch, and she wondered if she had always had so thin a veil separating her and her pain. They had gone silent, for that short time. They watched as time ripped through them through merged eyes and knew. They knew what the pain was. They knew they were the cause. They had known it then as well, and they cared about as much now for their responsibility as they had then. "Control... " she whispered to herself in the darkness as she tossed a small orb of white light between her hands, "Control is of the utmost importance." How she had been called a liar. How _he_ had called her a liar. Of course, he was the only one to ask to be shown the truth when she protested. She was still uncertain as to why she had shown him the truth. It had been a risk -- one that had paid off, and yet it was still a risk. Their association now could just as easily be ripped apart now as it could have before, and each of them had suitable ammunition now. She had tucked his secrets away with hers, in the shuddering place she hesitated to recognize where all of Pandora's demons sheltered themselves. She had her ammunition, if she should need it... ..though she knew she would have trouble ever using it, even should her life hang in the balance. She felt somehow tricked by herself in this, that her own stubborn nature had led her into a dare, revealing herself, her naked secrets, all her hidden, half-forgotten dreams. They were all shared property now, even among the living. "Someone will know, now. Someone will know the truth aside from me," she murmured into the glow created by the orb dancing at her fingertip touches."Someone will be able to remember for me... someone will be able to remember if I'm gone too long. Someone will notice." Her eyes closed, and she turned up the archaic player beside the bed with a weary hand. The music filled the room, its echo spilling out the cracked window to fill the dark street beneath the window, her own voice lost as she sung quietly along with the well-remembered words. Someone else knew it all now, someone who had tasted the lonely dark in his own life. There was a strange relief that welled in her as she thought about it all, of letting it finally free. She had never believed in intimacy, especially any kind beyond the rumored physical one that she had shied away from more times than she cared to remember. To know that comfort, that closeness, every moment of joy and pain, made her mildly weak when she thought about the immensity of it. No touch could carry that weight, that power. No physical act could equal the release of all that memory, and comparing them in any manner at all simply made her laugh at the difference. She would never touch him, nor he her... and it mattered about as much to her as if it were ten or twenty raindrops that fell to trace along her windowledge. ..and yet, she knew trouble was coming. She knew his anger like she knew her own. She knew what stirred that rage, and she knew better than to stand in the way of it. She was between the devil and the deep blue sea, again, and she would be standing there for as long as she could see ahead of her. -------------------------- Message 167 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 20:21:03 1997 EDT From: Nyx (#3791) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Something wicked this way comes... The dragon wolf lifted her head, studying the spherical prison of her mistress intently. The hematite color reflected her elongated body in distorted measures, making her neck too long and her body too rounded. She snorted, a small burst of flame lighting the darkness briefly. Her voice echoed for though she spoke, her lips did not move. "Lady of the Night, awaken, we need to speak." The sphere shuttered slightly, clattering against the brass holder that kept it from rolling away into the garden. A small sigh, so tiny it almost sounded infantile, signalled her departure from slumber. *Elsara, why do you summon me now?* "There are more in the Valley and their numbers keep growing. My children are not enough... to keep them away." The huge dragon wolf shifted her weight slightly, her tail flung itself across a rotting plant and some kind of green puss oozed onto the ground with a hissing acidic sound. *Do not worry, Elsara, they cannot come into the garden. My thorns see to that.* Her tone seemed confident, almost petulant. *And now that Danica's power wanes, my waxes. Soon, very soon, my imprisonment here will be ended. Then together we can rid my valley of these troublesome mortals.* She paused a moment, sighing softly. *Be gone now, Elsara, I must rest again. The spell grows weaker, but not weak enough.* The dragon wolf bowed her head respectfully and lumbered away from the sphere, her heavy footsteps shaking the ground. -------------------------- Message 168 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 15 21:29:35 1997 EDT From: Phantom_Rose (#6337) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A parting Frap checked in once more on his friend Lovinia and the baby. Both where doing well and things seemed to of calmed down.. It would take alot of time for her to get over loss but she was a strong woman. Frap gently kissed both on the cheek and walked out of the room. He chanted a few worlds and let some wasteland sand pour between his fingers, May safty and peace surround this house... The ward would keep them both safe in his absence. Then releasing Charlie to fly, Frap took the long trail home. :) -------------------------- Message 169 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 16 02:51:23 1997 EDT From: Kael (#20294) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Yes i had to post.. yah yah.. Kael sighed. It had been a long week for her -- odd that she could remember so little. She remembered him, his stroke, his kindness, his soft caress *those faces, screaming, churning ... Faces of gods she had not seen* Fabian had been like a calm wonderful drug through this time of confusion and her heart had fallen deeper into him. It was amazing that she had not said more and lost his trust, her words speaking of her own love, though he could not love back *The jackal god had come entered her mind something else... something else* but she could not help to blush in front of him. She had wanted to stay in his arms forever. She wondered why the maid was still present in his life, but his answers seemed a cover for something. Perhaps he loved her *Perhaps you will change your ways heathen ... heathen... HEATHEN!* Perhaps there was something more with them and he merely toyed with Kael's heart. It was not so new, but no.. there was something of him *You are his bride... you shall bear him many joys* that made him different. Kael's mind spun again. Strage thoughts would intercept her, cutting through like sharp beats of a song *I can feel myself scream, try to break away*. Kael fell to the ground then, like a rock. Too much came to her mind too fast, and her mind was determined to keep its stability. It would not remember. Only the good things. OOc- yes I know this sounds word. Just call it a traumatic event thats running through her head. The *'d parts are the thoughts:) I'm odd.:) K -------------------------- Message 170 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 16 13:58:06 1997 EDT From: Pepper (#20413) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Finding Pepper glanced around the dust ridden attic, the key she found in Fabian's wardrobe grasped firmly in her hand. Finally she spied what she was looking for, a large traveling chest pushed up against the south wall. Inserting and turning the key, the lock sprang open. Inside, stacks of yellowed paper stared back at her. "Hmmm....more letters, nothing important", she muttered as she rummaged around. A folded document with the LeCroix seal caught her eye as she was about to close the chest. Pulling the document forth, she carefully split the seal, feasting her eyes upon the secrets it held. The document slid from Peppers grasp, catching the breeze from the open attic window, stopping in mid air for a brief second before fluttering downward, landing on the dusty floor. From where she stood, shocked beyond belief, she could still make out the writing on the document, smeared slightly by the official seal of N'Orleans. Pepper Honey LeCroix-----Born 12-13-2621----Female Father----Augustus LeCroix Mother---Laurie Saint-Marie Images of the past week played over and over in her mind, Fabian's caress, his kiss, his warmth and passion penetrating deep within her. Quickly she seized the document from the floor, shoving it safely into the bodice of her dress. "What have I done, oh my God...what have I done", she whispered to the empty room, "I will truly burn for all eternity, for I have shared my brothers bed......" -------------------------- Message 171 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 16 16:11:13 1997 EDT From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hangover... The sensation of a drummer pounding on the inside of her skull jarred her to wakefulness, and she groaned loudly at the feeble light that managed to slip through the drawn curtains. "What the... " she muttered questioningly, squinting to see the room without the feeling of needles being driven through her eyes. She drew her blanket up around her, warm, comforting, something familiar. All the things here were hers, though through the nauseating haze they seemed alien. This was her place, so what were all the images of gilding and finery that had trotted through here mind? Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss it. Pulling the pillow back over her head, she decided whatever had happened, she had had far too little sleep to recover from it. She noticed an odd tension gone, but through the ringing that drowned out the rest of her thoughts, she was incapable of pinpointing exactly why. She would remember when it was morning.... maybe tomorrow morning. Or so she hoped as she slipped back into a pleasantly aching sleep. -------------------------- Message 172 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 16 21:41:20 1997 EDT From: Dominique (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Cat who Ate the Canary... Dominique leaned backwards against the bar, savoring a sip from the glass of tea in her hand. She thought of how quickly Fabian had left the room and smiled quietly to herself. Conversations and arguments milled around her, but none of them registered. Her mind remained on the nobleman and his attempts to woo her. She chuckled to herself, "No man will evah find me that easy a catch. Maybe if he's real nice, I might chew him up and spit him out again." -------------------------- Message 173 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 17 16:43:18 1997 EDT From: Fabian (#14268) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Two nights ago... Deep in the heart of New Orleans, many strange things can be observed... Freaks running rampant without any moral standings, screams and sirens shriek out into the night's unholy depths... But two nights ago, around 2:30, at Maison LeCroix, an eerie silence penetrated the darkness... Then, suddenly, the compound shook with roaring laughter... In the dining hall, Fabian Remmington LeCroix sat with a glass of brandy wine, and his loyal and trusted chef, Justin Wilson. Wilson's laughter echoed throughout the whole estate. Tears streamed down his pudgie red face, not able to control himself. "YOU, Lord LeCroix, are sure as --HELL-- no Don Juan!" Wilson screamed, laughing harder. Fabian took the verbal abuse, combatting it with silence. "This is not good, mon ami... Not good at all.." He whispered, convincing himself as well as telling his friend. The over sized chef calms down, and nods. "Peppah sure does throw a fit when she gets angry, as you whell know." Fabian snickers. "Ah could heah her poundin' through tha hallways, befoah she left.. This time, it seems ta be for good." Justin nods solemly, eyes filled with understanding. "Would ya do anythin' differently? Jesus Christ Fab, she saw you makin' love to Anne.." Fabian takes a gulp of his brandywine. "Anne.... She's a fun girl." Justin looks shocked, almost in disgust. "Fabian! You jus broke a poor ladies heart. How dahre ya speak of a slut, when there is a real lady out there cryin' ovah yo' name.." Fabian ponders the words, for an instand, then sharply says... "Peppah was the slut, mon ami... Timothy told us stories about how men entered her room, she stahted "screamin'", and they left." He pauses, "...And ah have a feelin' that she's weepin' all ovah Dwight's cock, in fact, Ah'll bet mah fortune on it..." Wilson sighs, "LeCroix, yo' jus like yo' daddah.. Hopeless." Fabian drinks the remainder of his brandywine, and excuses himself to his balcony. His thoughts drifted from his work, to his family, then back to Pepper. Suddenly blinking in realization, he comes to the conclusion that every single empty word she said to him, was nothing more then a meaningless lie... He looked out into the cold night, and whispered to himself, "..Can this world really be as sad as it seems?.." -------------------------- Message 174 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 17 17:05:26 1997 EDT From: Fabian (#14268) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Last night... Fabian was laying alone in his chamber, thinking of it more like a cell. An isolated prison, in which he was condemned to rot in. He stared at pieces of shreaded paper, the paper his "sister" gave to him... He laughed as a thought came into his mind. "Oh mah gahd! These are jus simple words... No signs of proof in them.. Ah could write down "Fabian controls the heart an' mind of everyone around him..".... dosen't make it true.. A smile came to his lips once more, as another thought came into focus... "..Fathah put -me- and -me- alone in charge of everythin; tha money, tha estate... Vicky and Timothy are heah bah mah gracious Catholic hospatility, and mah Family morality. If there is any law that forces me to give all mah money to a whore, Ah will pack up and move fah away from heah..." He dressed himself in a black robe of expensive silk, and laid back down on his bed. Pulling the sheets over his body, his eyes shut, but he did not sleep. His thoughts drifted to Rathe, a man he did not trust at all. In order for his assistance to burn Dwight's city down to a crisp, he needs to give a soulblade, either the one that Axelle or Toraxyn has. Possible, but in a sense, impossible. His father tought him the ways to use, decieve, and squander anything from a lady... And he will have to use all of them to conquer this trial... -------------------------- Message 175 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 17 18:25:04 1997 EDT From: Pepper (#20413) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Love and Hate Pepper stood next to the open window gazing out onto Dwight's wondrous garden. Deep breathing filled the room, comforting her as Dwight slept soundly, sprawled out on the bed behind her. A spark of anger ignited deep inside her as she played back the afternoons events in her mind. Fabian and Vic, first laughing at her, taunting her. Then the anger, Vic striking her. Pepper could see the hatred dripping from both of their Nobel shells. "They are not human" she sighed softly, "they are nothing more then an empty vessel...evil, self centered son of bitch's" If it had not been for Dwight, all that should be hers would surly have been lost. But once again his technology as he called it saved her skin. Dwight had taken the document proving Pepper's heritage, putting it a small machine, taking a picture of it. Dwight had explained to her that the twin was a copy. And it was the copy she would show Fabain, this way the original would be safe. Turning away from the window she looked over at Dwight, the pale moonlight danced through the window, embracing him, creating a glow, almost angelic around his sleeping form. "Well brother Fabian", she whispered to herself as she moved closer to the bed, "the game is over, the war has started. A fourth of the LeCroix estate belongs to me. I will destroy you if I have to, but I will take what is rightfully mine." Pepper climbed into bed next to Dwight, her anger subsiding a bit as Dwight subconsciously wrapped his arm around her, pulling her body next to his. She lay in the darkness listening to Dwight's heart beating, wondering to herself as she waited for sleep, what her brother Fabian was doing at this exact moment..... -------------------------- Message 176 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 17 20:52:15 1997 EDT From: Dominique (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Swamp Druidess... Dominique listened to the wild sounds of the bayou as she directed her skiff back home again. The droning of crickets rose and fell in waves, just like the lapping of water against her small vessel. The wind wound through the trees, waving their leafy branches with a rustling sound. It was so peaceful, quiet. She smiled without realizing it. This was where she belonged. The slight thud of her skiff hitting land woke her from her daydreaming and she cursed as she nearly lost her footing, falling onto one knee instead of her face. She brushed the mildew and dirt from her knee with an absent sweep of her hand, then jumped off the skiff, grabbing one end to drag it up onto the land. The old skiff groaned in protest as she dragged it through thick mud and cattails. She was so absorbed in her own little world that the distant voices startled her. Shouting was heard in the distance, from perhaps one of the Noble Houses. Curious, she set her skiff onto the bank with the guiding pole placed on top of it and wandered towards the origin of the argument. She found herself staring into the garden of the LeCroix estate. Victoria and Fabian were talking with another girl that Dominique did not recognize till someone shouted her name, Pepper. This raised her curiousity even more and she ducked down to listen. The more she heard, the more she smiled... Oh yes, Fabian had a few skeletons in his closet... -------------------------- Message 177 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 01:22:18 1997 EDT From: Pepper (#20413) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: As the world turns LeCroix syle Clad only in her panties and bra, Pepper followed Dwight about his lab chattering happily to him about the evenings events in the lounge. Her uniform lay discarded in a velvety pile in the corner. "No use wearing that anymore" she said happily to Dwight "I don't think offers for employment will be trickling in anytime soon." Turning quickly, Dwight bumped in to Pepper, knocking her down. "My dear" he chucked, scooping her off the floor, sitting her on a backless stool against the wall, "you sit here, it will be a lot safer for the both of us. And you right my angel, you are no longer a maid. Why with the money you receive from your part of the LeCroix estate you can hire you own help." Dwight winked at her as he walked over to where the dress lay, "I'll tell you what Pepper" he said as he reached down for the dress, "I will throw this in the incinerator and tomorrow we will go to that fancy place on Toosay so you can pick out some nice gowns. I don't mind you running around half naked, but I'm not sure of the rest of the world is ready for it." As Dwight picked up the dress the document Pepper had found a few days ago fell from the velvet heap. Dwight turned to Pepper, his eyes scolding. "Pepper, I thought I told you to keep this in the safe?" Pepper lowered her eyes, saying softly "You did mon cher, but I wanted to have it encase monsieur Red need some proof of my wanting Fabian in jail." Dwight chuckled softly as he opened the document his eyes scanning over it, "Oh my Pepper" he said before bursting out in laugher, "have you looked at this document in the light my dear?" Shaking her head, frowning slightly, Pepper looked over at Dwight, "No, I only really looked at it in the attic with only the moon as my light." Dwight grabbed a magnify glass from one of the large tables, moving over to Pepper he held the glass over the document. "Look, do you see this? The seal of N'Orleans has smeared the ink, it does not say LeCroix." Pepper stared through the glass as a terrible dread traveled down her spine, she answered Dwight in a low whisper, "Yes, I see now. The 'y' and 'e' have been smeared." Pepper looked up at Dwight, her eyes pools of fear and confusion, "It is not LeCroix, it is LeCroye. My father is Augustus LeCroye...oh my god, what have I done....." -------------------------- Message 178 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 04:47:05 1997 EDT From: Kael (#20294) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lies to Love Kael rested, her body pleasured in ways before she had not known she could feel. She curled next to the sleeping form of Kendo, smiling as she realized he was the one to bring her all this joy. Not so long before, she had dealt with the sweet words and sweet lies of one she had thought she had loved. How foolish she felt, and how angered she grew when she realized that her sweet lover, Fabian, was not merely her own. His cooing words and gentle touch had been shared with more than just one woman. She thought how stupid she had been to waste her days with such a man, who no doubt wished her for something. For what she did not know. At least she knew, that something would be done about it. Later on, after she had dealt with her anger in a rather violent song, she went to the Jizo baths to clear her mind. What she had found there astonished her. Her heart fluttered instantly upon seeing him, and it was not until now that she wondered if this heart's disquiet was a rebound. "No, no. " she said softly, his rhythmic breathing constant next to her. "He is not a response to Fabian. Kendo is not." It was strange though how she had let him do so much so easily. She could not say it was fast, their lovemaking truly time-stopping. She smiled, her hands still stroking Kendo gently. The thoughts of Fabian left her. Who was he? He was some noble in some tower, playing with some girl's heart. That girl would not be me, Kael thought to herself. -------------------------- Message 179 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 11:43:12 1997 EDT From: Dominique (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Turning of the Worm... Dominique drifted out of sleep and had to blink several times to clear the haze from her eyes. She sat up, though it took a bit of effort, and grimaced, her head felt like a lead balloon. Looking around, everything seemed distorted, the shapes around her mocking her by changing size and blurring their shape. This was not her room. THIS WAS NOT HER ROOM! Awkwardly, she tried to fumble out of bed, only to bump into another body beside her... Fabian. Her mind reeled and she desperately tried to remember the night before, but all her memories were hazy. What in Gaia's name was wrong with her? She stumbled out on the opposite side of the bed and crumpled to her knees, crying out as she struck her bad knee. The room started to spin around her and she feared passing out, till two hands lifted her up again and an admonishing voice whispered to her, "Non, petite, come back to bed." Before unconciousness engulfed her in darkness, she realized it was Fabian. Numbly she realized she was truly damned. -------------------------- Message 180 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 15:20:41 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Attempting the improbable. Dwight tapped rapidly on each key of his keyboard, text flashing onto the screen. "I must get into their systems.. " his voice was near a hiss, "I must.." he activated two background "street-sweepers" in his code, erasing any trace of his attempted hack. The Screen shimmered into Existance. "Welcome to Real Time Communications." A grin crossed his face as he tapped a few more keys. "We are sorry, but this name and password has been recycled. Access Denied." He growled, "What the hell is this shit?" he tapped a few more keys. A familiar icon appeared on his 3d screen, one of the grim reaper walking closer to his face. [INFORMATION]: Host Server has started a network sweep. SSweeper A and B not equipped to handle this purge. "Fine then.." he grumbled, tapping a few more keys. [INFORMATION]: Now leaving Real Time Server. "Will I ever find a way into there?" he rolled his eyes skyward, and shut down the Terminal, moving to sit on the bed beside the sleeping form of Pepper. -------------------------- Message 181 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 15:37:20 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Forging After the unsuccessful hack, Dwight wasn't feeling down. "If I can not hack into their systems, fuck it." he grinned, and drew out the piece of paper that Pepper had. "Pepper Honey LeCroye.." he pondered, then slid the piece of paper into his laptop's scanner. "Hrm." he pondered a moment, "Computer, switch display to 5x mag... initiate." the laptop whirred, and the picture on the screen grew larger. "Computer, switch view to wireframe." the laptop whirred once again, the screen turning black, and everything except for the signature and the seal turning into framework-like design. "Now, Computer. activate touch-pad hand recognition sequence. Make sure everything is perfect." he then began, slowly and meticulously correcting the ye on LeCroye with the ix of LeCroix. After three hours of back-bending work, the original was complete. Pepper Honey LeCroix-----Born 12-13-2621----Female Father----Augustus LeCroix Mother---Laurie Saint-Marie He smiled at his work, "All too perfect.. this will go very well." he heard the chitter of his companions in the laboratory, and set the paper down on his table, lightly brushing his fingers along Pepper's lips as she slept. He then spun on a heel and entered the laboratory. -------------------------- Message 182 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 17:16:19 1997 EDT From: NightMask (#12805) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Price of Failure The R/T Tower shimmered, and a blue glow covered long silent antennae on the top of the R/T. The computers reached out, focused on a long forgotten strike base on Jizo. Its inhabitant wakened, and went through a long forgotten ritual... [Core Initialization] Please stand by... [Core Initialization] Crystal core memory has power. Proceed. [System Initialization] RPL Load request. Activate Avatar mode. [System Initialization] Avatar loaded. ID: XHC-666-74751 [System Initialization] Alias Avatar as Caliban. Alias set. [System Initialization] Load Cybernetic OS Seahaven CybeliOS-compatible OS, Version 12. FOR MILITARY USE ONLY. ALL OTHER USE PROHIBITED. Systems: On-Line. Weapons: On-Line. Ambient Temperature is: 76 degrees farenheight. Mission: Search and Destroy. Target is a Zero, use standard investigative techniques, then terminate with extreme prejudice. As the last of the displays flashed across his eyes, he stood, and the twin orbs blazed red not unlike brimstone. Iron Man lives again. NightMask -------------------------- Message 183 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 19 18:19:16 1997 EDT From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Morning after blues? She pushed herself up on the bed, rubbing her head as though it ached. Most of her body felt as though she'd been bruised far too badly, and she slumped back down onto the pillows with a hollow grumble. *You certainly haven't been acting much like a lady, Annie... * a maternal voice scolded, and she quickly pushed it out of her mind. "Screw being a 'lady', Mother. Maybe sometime next life." *Not that I disapprove of your choice, dear, his family is well respected, but... to just...?* "Drop it, Mother. Fabian's a friend." *You could have fooled me, Annie.* She groaned as she pulled a pillow over her face. "You know I have no designs on the man, Mother. I don't want his money, his love, or anything but what has already happened, ok?" Pulling her blanket tight around her, she curled up to enjoy her ache. "It's not like you never fooled around, you know." Silence answered her. -------------------------- Message 184 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 01:29:46 1997 EDT From: Jasper (#17572) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: ... She hung from the repair scaffold by her knees, reaching deep into the maze of cables at the neck of The Coyote, listening to the techs passing below as she tried desperately to finesse the aging bolt back into place. She hoped the rattle would stop. It was beginning to drive her slowly insane. Tapping the mechanism with her fingertip, she reached down for her wrench, swaying precariously as she bent at an odd angle. Steadying herself with a hand, she felt herself get mildly dizzy. How long had she been hanging there, anyway? She swung up onto the platform and regained her equilibrium, looking over the hangar as everything solidified to a simple one of itself. Scratching absently at her braids, she looked down at the belt hanging from her hip, muttering, "What the... ?" as she realized it wasn't there. "Well dammit, I must have left it _somewhere_... " Casting a glance to her workroom door, she saw it resting on her floor, about fifty feet down and 100 or more across the crowded hangar. Damn... " she muttered to herself, slowly getting up the resolve to climb down the swaying scaffold. It was supposed to be a good day. She'd won that stupid bet she'd made with Cheetah and Solitude, after all, and after a week of being a growling, snarling, hungover mess, she could go back to her specials with a clear conscience. She hadn't counted on running into the stranger. It wasn't too uncommon for her to take people in, so she hadn't dwelled on it for too long. He seemed enough of a mystery to keep her entertained for a while, and it would add something to the day in day out of life out in the 'zone. New faces were not always the most welcome sight to some of the other clans, but Dune Rider? He'd fit in just fine. If he planned on staying, that is. She gently nudged the door open, picking up her wrench as silently as she could manage, turning on her heel to head out with a single backward glance. Closing the door behind her, she leaned up against it with a mild sigh. He had asked who Llyr was. Served her right for bringing up the name in the first place... not like he could have known. She closed her eyes, telling herself it wasn't her fault again, not believing herself in the slightest. -------------------------- Message 185 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 10:20:29 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) The soft gabbing of her son was enough to wake her; Luthe nearly snorted himself awake, too, but Ylaerin soothed the dragon back to sleep. As she fed her child, she cast a glance over to her husband... dear Strafe.. poor Strafe. She'd not been a proper wife to him, she should have been supportive, kept her uncertainty to herself and Luthe. But the Bond she shared with the dragon made such a thing even more difficult than it already was for her; besides, when the thought of him leading a village off to war crossed her mind... The shudder that ran through her not only upset the babe in her arms, but brought Lyr'tyzluthe fully out of his dreaming. He shoved his sapphire snout into her hair, and tried to soothe her, /All will be well... you saw last night. He wants to please you, keep you happy... you've got to tell him what you want, though./ Ylaerin sighed. She had no words for what she wanted (a bard with no words? What was happening to her?), and Luthe knew it perhaps better than she did. She brought the whirling fears and feelings come to the forefront, and Luthe was quick to point out her Syyrl's face in the middle of them. /I understand that.. and I feel the same fear, Worthy. But Yshar is a trained warrior, and a leader on top of everything else. That's a far cry from a farm boy./ Luthe's tone was calming, but the sense of importance which had settled over the conversation remained. Etra held Rowan tighter and settled next to the dragon in the cot. 'I worry I keep him from doing that which is just,' she said at last, in Gaelic, 'And I worry that I keep him to this out of some childish rememberance of what there once was for me with 'Lord' Rathe.' She winced at the mocking tone of her own voice, but it hardly phased the dragon. /Keep to what is yours, Ylaerin. Your mother often told you much the same. And at any rate, this is not just your home, but the home of your children. In a few months, we will have another hatchling. I'd like for this same stone to guard its nights../ Luthe nodded sagely, which was somewhat ridiculous to someone who shared his mind, and Etra laughed. Rising and turning, she set the sleeping baby back in his cradle; he was growing so quickly, now... before long, it seemed, he'd be taking up arms beside his father. She shoved at least that thought from her mind - her warrior husband bearing weapons, she could stand.. but not the thought of her small bairn. Taking up her pen and ink, she rooted about for spare parchment, and began to write: ~~ Mo choill, my love ... I would that I could follow you to the Elven Mage's very doorstep, and take up my staff against him... but in only a few more months, before the summer comes again, our next child will be born. Perhaps I carry your heiress-daughter... I only ask that you stay with me to see the children grow. I wish I could tell you truly what I wanted.. but the most I want is my husband, for all my days. I love you so deeply, I can't say anything more than that - there are no words. Never compare yourself to those others, the Beastmaster.. the Elf.. .. I have faith in you. And I will fight the war of the Good and the Just, and sing your hero-songs long after we no longer have the strength to lift even a paring knife.. let alone a heavy blade. Do as you see fit, and I will see to it that the people follow you. Your love and Wife - Lyetra -------------------------- Message 186 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 10:23:49 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: OOC note ;) Sorry if that last post was horrifically disjointed... it's the effects of being up too early combined with major brain fry. ;) I hate midterms week!!! -Jess... er.. yeah. That's who I am. ;) -------------------------- Message 187 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 12:06:12 1997 EDT From: Karellen (#21084) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Ripples in the water The letter had come by messenger just that morning, far too early in the morning considering the sweet warmth of Hannibal's sleeping form beside her. She blearily opened the door to the child who had brought the letter from the messenger, took it, and stuffed it in her satchel for later without even looking at it. Now, noonday sunlight fell across her hands as she stared at the wax seal on the heavy sheafe of rice paper in her hands." The seal of the Single Rose Monastery. She broke the seal carefully and began to read the broken stilted writing. " To Karellen Daughter of Neferu and Azaco, from Yun-Ti Roshi of the Single Rose Monastery, I send you greetings..' it began. She smiled at that. Yun-Ti had made Roshi at last. Good for him. 'I fear I send news not to the good. The tribes of Mongol have attacked again our school. The monastery was mostly destroyed. Our master, Ho-Tei, was injured nigh unto death. Your little one and this one nursed him many days before his death. A message from the Jade Emperor, Blessed be his name and house, tells us we may no longer remain in this country wherein we were established, and has commanded us to go South. Danya has been cast out of the school by Dan-kai Dai-osho. I have given her what gold I could and told her to go westward to your homeland. She will wait for you at your family's home in your homeland. My most profound apologies, sister of my heart. We could do nothing else. Your brother in spirit, Yun-Ti Roshi." Karellen stared down at the last lines of the letter, stunned. The tribes had begun attacking again? The Emperor had commanded the monastery to move further Southwards to escape the tribes. And Danya was on her way to Egypt. Great Kuan Yin! What was she to do? She looked over at Hannibal, ran a hand along his back to ease her own heart with the feel of his solid nearness." She would have to go back. Back to Egypt, where she had vowed never to return. For Danya, who might not even want her mother to return to her. The mother who had seemingly abandoned her." -------------------------- Message 188 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 13:18:20 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Etra's post Bah. More cuteness. You know, now I'm going to have to write a sadistical human-beating dragon-eating death post from the far side of hell to bring DOWN the cuteness level! Hah! HAHA! err.. Hi --$elf ( Dazed. Bleh on getting up for work ) -------------------------- Message 189 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 14:15:58 1997 EDT From: Pepper (#20413) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Those Immortal Pepper slept uneasy, her dreams consumed with an unfamiliar. In her dreams she was embraced by thousands of feathers. A man spoke to her in silent whispers of sin and God. Within her tomb of down, her body heightened by the soft caress, time had stopped, nothing else mattered..... -------------------------- Message 190 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 16:42:11 1997 EDT From: Kael (#20294) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Waking up in a void Kael curled into the warm cloak she had used for a blanket against the chill November air. The swing she slept on rocked in the breeze. Her eyes opened slowly, a dizzying sensation coming over her form. She clamped her eyes shut again,rubbing her head. "What did I drink last night?" She said softly, her head spinning slightly in the prostrate condition. "And where am I?" Kael looked around. The flowing trees gaurded her eyes against the harsh glow of the morning sun. She bolted up, almost falling out of the porch swing to which she had slept in for the past 12 hours. She grabbed the swing, securing herself akwardly. She wrapped the cloak tighter around her for some reason, an odd security. Kael glanced at the cloak and blinked, "Who's is this? " She sighed, trying to think back. She remembered the mage, calm in his movements and ways, mesmirizing her. She remembered how it had felt so wonderful as he let her feel her own energies, her own inner fire. Whatever he had done, she could only remember the sensations, orgasmic, wonderful. She had not remembered falling asleep out here, or much else. All she could center herself on was his voice, and the feelings. She remembered him speaking of teaching again. She would enjoy the lesson no doubt. But why did she feel so weak now? Would it happen again? Kael sighed. She knew she should get up, Kendo would worry. But it felt good to just lie on the swing a little bit more... watching the sunlight filter in. IT felt good to just sleep... -------------------------- Message 191 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 18:57:04 1997 EDT From: Akeashar (#20348) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Life The lone man stood upon the rocky "finger" of Jizo, twirling a spear in his hand. "Life is cruel, to die is to be complete." He smiled, rubbing the spear. "How pitiless this world is. People sleep around, knowing they will get punished. So be it. They may lead there own lives." He smiled. "Life is cruel, to die is to be complete." .. -------------------------- Message 192 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 19:00:03 1997 EDT From: Akeashar (#20348) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Addenum to my last. TO BE CONTINUED..... -------------------------- Message 193 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 20 22:05:55 1997 EDT From: Red_Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: being called away.. Red felt the calling, he slipped out of the Oasis in the cover of night leaving a letter for jamie.. Then hurrying to the R/T he met up with a friend.. Shadows in the night he prepared.. Then with a flash he was gone. A lone shadow slipped out into the wasteland disappearing also. Who knows where he's gone, or if he'll come back.. -------------------------- Message 194 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 21 00:09:02 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Research Growling with disgust, Rathe threw the last arificing book in his library at the wall. He had been searching for hours, and still no mention of the strange artifact he had purchased from the recomb. He suspected some form of symbolic magic was involved, but so far no reference to the staff had shown up in any of his own books. Magical analysis, had, of course, given him nothing but a headache.. Apparently the creator did not want the staff's secrets easily revealed. Sighing, Rathe rose from his desk and headed downstairs, slipping out the door of the Mansion and down the cold streets of N'Orleans towards the Necropolis. If he could not find a reference to it there, he decided, he would have to tackle the massive libraries of DrarkReach. -------------------------- Message 195 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 21 03:07:32 1997 EDT From: DemonWolf (#13247) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wolf Moon Valley DemonWolf was lured towards the Valley, it seemed serene, peaceful he visited the valley alot, taking in the beauty of the Mountain ranges; he felt strange at the valley, though this didn't bother him at first; for he seemed at peace with himself at the Valley. DemonWolf noticed the Dragon wolve's venture forth, he battled with them, only to try to keep the numbers down; and seeing that they bred like wild fire, this he did not mind though he often grumbled to himself about the poor return of crystals from such a large beast... for they fought well; though they were a bit deformed with there wings. The Carving seemed a serene location to lose worries of past and even future. With each visit to the Valley DemonWolf noticed the shadows getting darker, this he didn't mind for he found peace within there shadowy depths, with ease he creeped over the valley, watching those being drawn within. (more to follow at a later date.) -------------------------- Message 196 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 21 03:30:52 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rated.. Something? The blood had already begun to flow from the woman's pores, tiny pinpricks of red welling up against starkly constrasted pale skin. The woman seemed to only be semi-concious, yet even in this state, in extreme pain. Even as he watched, her face contorted into a pained griamce as another wave of dark energy washed over her body. Despite the dozens of candles which surrounded both of them, the room was surprisingly dark--the shadows flowing throughout the room like some strange fog. Rathe crouched in the center of a glowing red circle, hands outstretched, each alighting upon a sigil traced onto the cold stone floor with salt. The shadows did not touch him, kept at bay by a hellish ruddy aura. He had crouched in this position, the low murmer of magic escaping his lips for the past several hours. Finally, the salt runes flared with a sickly greenish light, a flicker passing throughout the shadows. The woman, Tadewi's eyes snapped open, as if the green light had somehow awakened her. Her back arched, and her mouth opened in a silent scream as the blood flowing from her pores became a steady trickle, flowing throughout the cracks in the stones in tiny rivlets. A brief, dark smile flickered across the defiler's face, and he raised his right hand from the stone, laying it on Tadewi's stomach. The red aura surrounding him wavered briefly, and the shadows rushed in upon him as hounds might leap upon a wounded animal. Rathe's face, too, contorted into a grimace as he struggled to hold the bonds of magic which both protected him and held the dark energies in place. A slow pulse emitted from the tiny golden cage hanging from a thong around his neck as the last of its reserves were spent. The mage's fingers arched, and seemed to sink through Tadewi's skin. His hand closed about something, and he spoke a single word which burned even his own ears. The surrounding shadows swirled inward, flowing into Tadewi's prone body, shrowding her features from view just as a look of utter madness filled her eyes. Silence...And then, suddenly, an ear-splitting tearing noise filled the air. Warm blood splashed across Rathe's dark robes as Tadewi's flesh slowly peeled apart, and his hand rose from the new wound, clutching a tiny, deformed figure. An ear-splitting wail filled the air, even as the child's mother's own scream was finaly let loose. Aren't children cute. -------------------------- Message 197 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 21 09:10:07 1997 EDT From: Tadewi (#16048) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Close Call There in the Shadows... Tadewi flickered in and out of conciousness, barely aware of someone's voice calling to her, but like a distant telephone, it merely rung in her head unanswered. There was something wrong, something dreadful had happened to her, but she could not remember it now. Instead she crouched low in the ravines of her mind. Michaela watched her as she conversed with the others, Shya, Cricket, Nothing and even Sulamith, "Why did no one step in?" she gestured to Tadewi's shivering form, "That is why we even exist, to sheild her from men like Rathe." The others said nothing, yet Sulamith's eyes glittered with a pleased expression. Michaela shook her head, "No, Sula. I can already sense what you are wanting." Nothing finally responded, "We are weak, Michaela, you know that. Sula could have, but you rarely let her out." Michaela sniffed something about having good reason which only caused Sulamith to sneer at her. Michaela sighed, "Yes, Nothing, I know we are weak, but what happened to her last night might have made one of us stronger had someone jumped into her place. Someone needs to do so now, Tadewi is devestated. We can't allow the core to die." Everyone seemed to agree. Sulamith smiled slowly and stepped forward, "I am the strongest, I shall take over." Michaela shook her head immediatly, but even as she did so, Sula jumped forward, lightening quick... Tadewi's eyes flickered open and Joline sighed in relief. Fret and worry lined her brow and it was obvious that the young maid had been crying, "Ah, ma chere, you are finally awake, mon dieu, what has he done to you." Sulamith looked at her from Tadewi's eyes and merely smiled, "What I would have done in his shoes, Joline." The maid gasped, blinking rapidly. And rumors began throughout N'Orleans that Lady Tadewi de Mystique had gone mad. -------------------------- Message 198 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 21 17:13:41 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The House Rosa Leigh sat hunched in a darken corner, her form draped in the shadows surrounding her, disguising her from even the mose discerning eyes. THer she sat and shivered as her eyes stared at the house intently, something was going on, daddy was being bad again. She let out a small sneeze as she waited and waited and waited and would wait till her moment came... -------------------------- Message 199 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 21 19:42:11 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A startling fact Darius Lee looked down horrified, her eyes wide. "how?!? impossible!>....!!" Darius Lee let out a loud groan as she let her head fall forward onto the wall, "just when I thought it was all over I find it its only beginning". -------------------------- Message 200 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 22 20:41:13 1997 EDT From: Nyx (#3791) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Heart of Darkness. Elsara decended into the garden, a small bundle toted inside her huge claw. She carried it carefully, for fear of crushing the tiny babe contained inside. The child itself was hideous, how it managed to live was in and of itself a mystery. A small mewing sound issued from within. Elsara opened her palm and regarded it curiously. Perhaps it was hungry? She had no way of knowing. Nyx's sphere was already shuttering slightly as Elsara loped into the center of the garden. Her voice was curious, "What do you have there, chosen?" Elsara gently laid the bundle on the ground before Nyx's sphere. Laughter issued from within, rattling the orb against its brass holder, "A new servant for me, bless you my chosen." The orb began to glow and Elsara averted her eyes to protect them from the brightness. She heard a small cooing sound as she cracked one eye open. The baby was larger now, the size of a small child, yet still hideous to look upon with black wrinkled skin and a scarred face. Her only redeeming quality seemed to be her eyes, a shimmering pale green in color. "Nyx's voice mirrored her own thoughts, "The child's eyes must be from her mother. The pseudo elf has not such a quality. Still, this one will do. I will call her Mourir. Yes, that is a fine name." Mourir looked up at the dragon wolf and then at the orb, getting her first true glimpse of the world. -------------------------- Message 201 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 22 23:17:29 1997 EDT From: Clayson (#17237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Stuff The sand embraced her feet with every step, slowing her desperate attempt to reach the DRT. She knew there should could find peace. Bart never said a damn thing but his drinks flowed with a passion and after she was sloppy drunk he would send her home, bottle in hand. Dauthi filled her thoughts as she trudged along, the hatred etched on his face, his blood.....oh god she wanted to kill him. The first swing of the ax was not hers, but the second...it felt good. Damn him for taunting her, damn him for hating her, damn him for the pain, the longing ache that harbored deep in her soul. -------------------------- Message 202 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 23 11:11:38 1997 EDT From: Melira (#18088) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: What do you fear? Nothing. Nothing, that's what she'd told him when he asked her. She'd told him that the love of unbeing drove fear from her heart -- that it would from anyone's heart. Maybe she'd only said so because he was threatening to kill her (and her teacher, and everyone/everything else involved); or maybe she'd actually meant it. She certainly didn't feel very afraid. But it's easy to be unafraid when you're acting, and equally easy to be unafraid when you're merely standing in the cramped and dingy quarters you've come to call home. Melira sighed, and flopped onto the bed, groping for the last bottle of whiskey and finding it to be empty. Resigned to this fact, she folded her hands in her lap and sit there, staring at the rest of herself in the only lovely dress she'd ever owned. It had cost her a pretty penny... she'd be angry if blood got on it, but not scared - even if it were her own. She smoothed the sumptuous satin, a heavy material of high quality that was calming to look upon when it was all pooled up in the bed this way. It had felt nice when Toraxyn had grabbed her shoulder, harshly as it was done. So she'd touched him - half hoping that it would piss him off and that he'd strike her. Instead, he'd kissed her hand; an odd recation, all in all, from someone threatening so much carnage. It hadn't sent rills of pleasure up her spine.. and she hadn't found him attractive in the least (rather the opposite, really, but no matter..). Still, no one had bothered to touch her - not flirtatiously, not to harm her, nothing - in so long, that for a moment, when he wrenched her shoulder, the grey smog that had settled over her being lifted for a moment. But fear? No. None of that. She was empty, really, of everything including fear. Even when she'd been hunched in grimy pools under the eaves of factories, even as that eleven year old girl, and even when she'd been cradling her broken arm against her she hadn't been empty. She'd been full to bursting with rage, and sorrow, and the dying remnants of love... and fear, yes, even that, once. But no more. She turned over on her side, allowing her emptiness to swallow her a while and wondering if she could filch a bottle of good vodka from someplace in this wretched town. -------------------------- Message 203 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 23 12:09:14 1997 EDT From: Victoriana (#20228) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: the truth.. Victorianna went outside onto the balcony of the Maison LeCroix, hurrying as she had some last minute touches to make on the two coats she had made for Mallory. She stopped in the doorway looking at him. She thought to herself that he made such a commanding figure. He was always so sure and confident. Victoriana slowed her steps as she drew near him and smiled. Mallory turned to Victoriana, "Ah my dear I was afraid you had gotten lost here in your home." Victoriana just shook her head and smiled. She presented the two different coats to him. The first a simple black wool jacket tailored to fit him precisely, and the second a gray wool cloak fastened with a black spider broach. Both looked handsome on his figure. Mallory touched Victoriana's cheek lightly, "Dear what's bothering you?" Victoriana related the events that had taken place while she had been away to Europe, "And she says we are sistah's. Ah just can't believe that. Do you think there is any hope?" Mallory nodded to her, "A blood test would give you a positive answer Tori. I have a friend I do business with that could help you. I will talk to her and get back to you." Mallory slid his arms around Victoriana's waist and drew her close to him as he whispered close to her ear, "Stop worrying now." -------------------------- Message 204 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 23 20:01:22 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Dwight wrapped his lab coat about him, grumbling about the cool night air. "I will not let her out of the house, Again." His words were but a murmur, his movements like silk through a calm breeze as he walked along broken pavement and ruined vehicles. "This is insane. the LeCroix fools. I should just kill them all.." he paused a moment. "That would not solve anything, Dwight." was his own reply. "They would come back to life, I know." he grumbled. "Then I shall just have to kill them anyway. what the hell. I've killed over three hundred thousand, what's a "noble" family? just a bunch of inbreeds with attitudes." his laugh echoed throughout Shadowbrook, against the broken buildings, the Vultures stirring slightly. -------------------------- Message 205 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 24 11:37:09 1997 EDT From: Victoriana (#20228) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: In motion Mallory met Victoriana in the lounge of the R/T building as planned. He told her everything had been set up and it was up to her to say when. Victoriana knew that the sooner it was done the better. Mallory contacted Callie and within a few minutes Callie arrived in the lounge also. Victoriana asked Callie, "Ah believe you already know what this is about? Or will ah be needing to explain it more fully." Callie lifted her head slightly and in a crystalline voice replied, "I know what it is about, a genetic testing. There is only 90% validity to it." Victoriana said, "Ah don't care, Ah just want to know if she is mah sister or not. What do ah have to do?" In her crystalline voice Callie said, "Well that is much easier. I will need a small blood sample." Victoriana held out her arm while Callie obtained a small sampling of her blood. Callie looked at Victoriana, "Now where is the other woman," she said in a crystalline voice. Victoriana wasn't sure how to approach the fact that her 'sister' would probably be less than willing to participate in such an event. Victoriana turned to Mallory who seemed to be quite distracted. Aurora was watching Mallory intently and murmuring soft chants to him. Turning back to Callie, Victoriana said, "Ah'm not sure she will be a willing participant in this event." Callie pondered for a moment and in her crystalline voice answered, "Would there be a medical reason for her to have a blood test performed?" Victoriana scoffed, "Pregnant." Mallory stood and took Victoriana's hand as he turned to Callie, "We will be in touch to finalize the details." As they headed back to the Maison LeCroix, Victoriana asked Mallory, "How is she being compensated for her work?" Mallory brushed back a strand of Victoriana's hair, "Tori, my dear, as I told you, I have business dealings with her. I struck a bargain. One that was easy to fulfill." Victoriana wrapped her arms around Mallory's waist as they stood outside the gate leading to her home. Softly she kissed his lips and moved back slowly until she felt the gate behind her. Victoriana reached up and touched Mallory's lips as she whispered softly, "Ah'm not sure how to repay you for all you have done for me. Thank you." With that Victoriana headed up to her bedroom. Outside at the gate Mallory stood looking up at the Maison LeCroix, watching the shadows from the lighted window. Before turning away, with only the darkness of the night and the sultry N'Orleans breeze to hear, "You'll find a way I'm sure." -------------------------- Message 206 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 24 14:56:50 1997 EDT From: Spiral (#20542) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: ... The pair wandered through the gardens, looking for the place the odd woman had told them about. Perhaps here, they could find enough work to keep themselves alive, now that they were free. The small one leaned against the large one, looking up at him with a bright and cheery smile. He looked back at her with the deepest affection, and cupped her chin carefully in his claws. "We'll find a place," he said, "Even if it isn't here, little one." She smiled up at him, and straightened her uniform. "Working for a place to sleep is still better than being owned, I suppose," she answered. The two trotted off into the garden, readying themselves for whatever was to come along with their newfound freedom. -------------------------- Message 207 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 24 19:33:23 1997 EDT From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lock and Key. Dwight tapped a long keycode on a large control panel. [ANNOUNCEMENT]: Do you really wish to close main bunker doors? (y/n) Dwight tapped the "y" key rather quickly. [ANNOUNCEMENT]: Acknowledged. Inner Bunker doors closing.. Echoing within the rooms, a loud *THUD* issued and a hiss of compressed air as the bunker doors slammed shut and latched securely. Dwight smiled, tapping a few more keys. [ANNOUNCEMENT]: Outer Doors closing now. Again. another echo. The bunker doors slide closed. [ANNOUNCEMENT]: Oxygen mixture enabled. doors closed. Entrances left : None. [ANNOUNCEMENT]: Area secure. Charging main and secondary generators. Dwight scratched his chin, "Lets see anyone get in or out of here. Now I'll make sure we don't have any contact with them Nobles.." His laugh echoed through the halls, cold and harsh. The computer terminal beeped quietly. -------------------------- Message 208 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Oct 24 20:46:31 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The wall. Akane wrapped the cloak around his form, sipping his tea. His own Daughter, how could she just not talk to him. He shook his head, "I do not care anymore. let her be her own person. Perhaps she will be stronger than Appalene." his voice murmured as he drew sigils along the barstool in the common room, "Let her get herself into things she will never master, let her perish as she wishes." He hopped nimbly from the barstool, sitting in a seat in front of the hearth. His eyes glimmering lightly as the runes on the bar flared to life. "The time will come when she snaps out of this foolishness. "hanging out" with that fool Seeker.. what was his name? Sinner I believe.. no matter, she will have her fun, and then she will slowly come a realization of what she is doing.." the runes hissed on the bartop, and shimmered out of sight. "Indeed.. she will learn." Akane walked through the door of his room, sliding into the sheets beside Taisia. -------------------------- Message 209 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Oct 25 03:51:17 1997 EDT From: Pepper (#20413) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: stuff Pepper piled her hair on her head, clipping it loosely in place, allowing ringlets of black to cascade seductively about her face. She slipped on her new gown, turning from left to right she eyed her reflection in the mirror. "Perfect" she whispered to her mirrored image "even if I am not part of the Noble family, at least I will look like one." Laughing she ran on tip toes to the lab to show off her new attire to Dwight. After all, she did charge it to Fabians account, so she was pretty damn sure Dwight would love it. -------------------------- Message 210 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 05:20:50 1997 EST From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Yuletide's a comin.. Kzin slowly looked over the red suit, the white cuffs unstaind, thanks to the miracles of modern drycleaning-effet blood magery. He chuckled "Tis the season, almost...time to go forth, don the suit of Ol' Nick, Father of Lies and Deceit, and bring joylessness and maggorty to the masss." The sled was prepared, the imps frothing and gnawing at the spell-bound chains. The Missus was asleep, all snug in her bed, with visions of wild hunts and feral clawmarks, all in her head. The stockings were pinned by the altar with care, to catch any blood that 'just might' drop there. With a jolly hohoho and a satchel of 'toys', to be given out to the 'good' girls an boys, he took to the roof, and stared at the sky, knowing the snowfall was not far away. A smile on face , Ol'Nick went back to bed, knowing that soon, came the days of the dead. As he went to sleep, all preperations complete, trying to escape, the Missus' cold feet, with a slight giggle, a titter in there, he whisper out into the cold, thin air. And what did he whisper, you ask, you say? Mere said thus: "Coal is too easy, 'twill not serve this year..." -------------------------- Message 211 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 05:57:00 1997 EST From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rages... The space behind her eyes burned like a cloudy fire. Beyond the churning of her emotions that turned her stomach like too much vodka, try as she might, she couldn't put the hate that had swelled through her outside of her walls. If it had been her own, it would have been easy to contain. There would be measures and means to be taken to aid in its release, if it could not be suppressed. She had slipped out like a ghost once he had slept, closing the door like a thief in the night as fearful tears streaked her cheeks, chilling against her skin when they hit the wind. She let them guide her steps through the wood, her eyes clouded with too many ghosts to pick her way between the dim pathways where no moonlight fell. In her own way, she knew she loved him. Not as a lover, and not as a father. It was something hard for her to understand, though she had come to accept it as something that simply was. She had tried too hard to drown her pain in a lover's touch, let him hurt her once the she realized the touch would no longer be enough to make her forget. There were causes to attend to, devil's deals to be made. When she broke into the clearing, she watched the way the moonlight slid over the river in ripples, and though she failed to feel the cold, she froze to the spot. The ruddy tendrils of dawn were creeping over the mountain peak that rose black and solid against the insubstantial night clouds. It had been a long time since she had stopped to watch the sun rise. Not expecting it to change her mood, she remained there, forgetting the need to move on, to find a place he wouldn't think to look for her, until possibly he forgot what the cause was, forgot to lend her aid, forgot her entirely. She knew, despite her hopes to the contrary, it would never happen. There wasn't enough strength in her to push him away. Not now, if even ever. By the time the sun had risen, her feet had carried her back to the door, which she entered as quietly as she had departed. When the light stretched through to find him, he would find her curled on the couch, wrapped in the homespun blanket, fending off the chill she could never explain to anyone's satisfaction. Closing her eyes, her thoughts drifted to the strange encounter with the duplicates that had wandered through the lounge a few nights past. Her lips still ached with the cold softness of the kiss left at her lips without a word, and the hollow nausea it had left in her when he vanished through the door. Not even the searching, hungry kisses that followed it from true flesh and blood, another face, flaming hair, had been able to dispell it in entirety. These were not, she reminded herself, the things to think on. Not now, not ever if it could be helped. There were causes to attend to, devil's deals to be made. -------------------------- Message 212 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 06:42:23 1997 EST From: Jasper (#17572) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Xmas cheer? First, a special thanks to Kzin for his post, reminding the clueless me that IC Xmas is nearing. The Coyote streaked through the heavy blast doors of the Hangar, its clawed feet grinding to a screeching halt along the heavy cement floor, leaving small white furrows alongside others left in earlier days from similarly ungraceful entrances. The fingernails-on-blackboard screech jolted the techs and mechanics doing maintenance on the scaffolds to attention, and several rushed to the cooling feet of the giant repair mech for word of what the emergency at hand might be. The cockpit opened with a squeal and a hiss, and the pilot leapt out rapidly, perching herself on The Coyote's head with a triumphant yowl as she tore off her helmet and shook out her hair in a rattle of braids. "What the hell is goin' on out there, boss?!?!?" one of the techs yelled up to the tiny woman some fifty feet overhead. A broad grin was his first response, and she aimed a sharp kick at a small release level along the cockpit, winking down at the crowd. "No trouble, folks, somethin' _good_ for once!" she yelled down, leaning over the edge precariously. Tossing her helmet down onto her seat, she swung herself fully up, and climbed slowly down the joints of the mech's jackal's head, stepping onto a narrow elevation platform by its side. As the platform descended, the belly of the metal beast opened up, and pilot and cargo arrived at once on the hangar floor to looks of pure befuddlement from the crowd that had gathered. "She has finally lost it... " one of the muttered with a laugh as a tall fir tree suddenly adorned the floor, fallen over onto one side. A steady trickle of pine needles fell like green rain from the still open cargo doors of the mech. Jasper stood back, hands on her hips, beaming, proud as a new mother. "There!" she said with contented finality. A bemused silence fell as the crew watched her attempt in vain to right the tree, easily four times her height, a few chuckles echoing throughout the hangar, before a handful of techs helped right it in the shadow of the looming mechs and scaffolding. She stepped back, pinching a tall, dusty mechanic on the backside, saying, "Mmm.. came complete with presents, too. Gonna be a good season," with a wink. Looking up at the scraggly, uprooted thing, she seemed to glow with glee. The crew holding the tree upright watched her curiously, and stared back at the remainder of the Duneriders that had gathered around with a collective shrug and look of confusion. A few more enterprising souls dragged enough scrap in from along the walls to keep the tree propped up on its own. Her smile began to infect the group of them, and though it was insane, it was indeed there. For a little while, at least, there would be a real Christmas tree out in the middle of the desolation of the firezone. As soon as some amount of cheer had spread through the echoing hangar, she turned on her heel, drawing a hand to her chin, and began muttering to herself, "Now, where am I gonna find a Santa hat big enough for a mech... " with mild consternation. Slipping into her office, she looked over the few sleeping bodies with a small chuckle and shake of her head. She closed the door, peering out through the smudged glass at the clan members still gathered around the tree with a small giggle. "If they think this is bad, just wait 'til New Years... " She sank onto her little corner bed with a look of contentment, tugging off her boots, unable to let the smile leave her. Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked at the sleeping crew once more with a small chuckle. "Christmas came early for some of us this year. If I play my cards right, we might even have a new Revenant before too long... " she mumbled into her hands. Rolling over onto her back, she slipped her hands behind her head, biting her lip and thinking to herself. 'Little brother gets a nice sturdy lock for his door and time off to be with the his lady. Soli? Soli gets a drum of the good stuff. The whole clan'll probably thank me deeply. Buffy... hrm. I'll get little brother a few books about women, I think.' She chuckled softly, shaking her head, 'Poor kid's gonna need 'em. Uhlana... hrm. Should probably make an effort to make sure she gets all those special mods on the 'widow she's been lookin' over. Erik should probably get a flask of his very own, seems to need it more than me sometimes. Shrift gets a deck of cards, and a spare shirt... just in case he's no good at cards.' She grinned to herself. '...and Cheet gets a chastity belt I don't have access to the key for. Or his own room. Whichever he wants more.' She half buried herself in pillows, and drifted off into a short nap, visions of good looking mechanics who happen to be horrible at dice dancing in her head. -------------------------- Message 213 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 06:49:32 1997 EST From: Jasper (#17572) To: *SoulMechs (#9541) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Previous... Ok... for the whole, oh, 4 of you who might actually read this and the previous post, it's about time for something fun, no? Since myself and a few other mech players will be gone for the actual IC Xmas and NY dates, if there is a party, it'd be nice if we could all actually make it in for it. Right now, I'm looking at this coming Wednesday night, or the following Monday night. If you could get back to me with a preference, let me know, eh? -Jas. -------------------------- Message 214 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 08:59:57 1997 EST From: Lykaj (#6068) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dark times or Fluffy bunnies in pink. The Shadows swirled around his body. His arms restrained by the substance. The dark fog spiraled up his body like a glove. Squeezing harder every second. Withen seconds it had surrounded his face, blocking out all air. His lungs burning, his ribs cracking. Lykaj awoke from his own scream. His body wet from sweat, his heart pounding. He sat motionless for a few moments, wondering what was reality and what was dream. A servent rushed in moments later, her face as ashen white as his. "Sire" She called out. "Leave me." He growled at her in anger. She quickly vanished as fast as she came. Lykaj sat up on the bed, taking a few long breaths to calm down. The last few days had been bad. The dreams where getting worse every night. His temper while awake even worse. How many servents had he fired or put in the dungeons these last few days? "Keep them on thier toes" He thought. He had to figure out what was going on. The dreams started at the same time as the Shapeshifters arrived. Hardly a coincendence he thought. He looked around and growled. Shaelin had left again. Not standing for his temper she decided to stay elsware. "She will come back" he said to himself. He looked at the door and yelled out, "Bring me some tea." He heard the footsteps of scared servents running to comply with his wishes. He mused as he enjoyed the sound of the scattering servents, "No wonder Rathe enjoys this power thing." He yelled out again, "If I have to get it myself, all of you will be roasted alive in courtyard." He heard the sound of running feet again and then the crash of dishes followed by whispered curses. He slowly put on his robe and strode to the door. "Frieghten the servents then worry about these shifters." He thought with a twisted grin. -------------------------- Message 215 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 11:10:27 1997 EST From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: thoughts Darius Lee sat sighing softly on the widow seat of her and Kzin's room, her headresting lightly against the wall as she looked up into the star filled sky. Her doubts and fears darted through her mind like glimmermotes as she watched dark clouds cover the moon. Slowly her hands fluttered down to rest lightly on her still flat stomach, a frown upon her brow as she closed her eyes slowly. Rathe willingly sacrificed his own child for power, would Kzinti do the same? He had sworn that he never would but a mages thrist for power never ceased. When would it override his love of her? Of the baby? If anything happened to this child she would be destroyed. Darius Lee growled feircely protectively. BUt then there was the question of her own wolven nature, what would this child be like? Mage? Wolven? Human? Could she even care for a child? So far her she hadn't changed since discovering she was pregnant but the urge was strong. Stronger every day like the moon. Her eyes drifted up to gaze at that gleaming orb... If her body changed, if she could no longer fight it, would the child change or be destroyed? Darius Lee's shoulders slumped. THen there was the fact that Kzin wanted twins. Twins. She didn't even know if she could nurse one child let alone twins and what would the magic needed to give her twins do to her already alive child, if she didn't carry twins at the moment? Darius's eyes darted to the bed as Kzin moved in his sleep, searching for her then sitting up tiredly as he asked softly, "Darius?". "Here love" she murmured as she crossed back to the bed, slipping under the sheets and back into his arms again, doing the best to push all doubts from her mind once more. "I was just getting something to drink". Kzin mmmed softly and pulled Darius close as he layed down on the bed again, falling into his dreams once more, leaving Darius to sit and ponder and look at the far wall all night long. Her fears once againr acing through her mind. -------------------------- Message 216 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 13:05:16 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Warning Spam to follow. -------------------------- Message 217 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 13:08:00 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Eternal struggle Again, he was surrounded by darkness. Light was a vague memory, remembered only for the faint flickering of violent candlelight--tiny pinpricks in the shadows that seemed a thousand miles away. The ground was slick with what might have been blood, and the occasional red flicker showed that it was, indeed, blood, drawn into a series of intricate runes along the floor and walls of the small stone room. Kneeling in the middle of this chamber, Rathe began to chant, a low murmer of inaudible words which seemed to writhe and twist in the air. The room's humidity slowly rose, but the mage seemed unaware, intent on the ritual. A brief flicker of red again, but this time accompanied by something else--something blindingly white which began as a pinprick, but slowly grew, solidifying before him. It seemed an intricate, beautiful tree wrought from pure white light. This new becon came to a stop perhaps a foot in front of him, revolving slowly. The mage's eyes narrowed, his chanting abrubtly trailing off. This was his target, but yet it was so strong... How could he wrestle the secrets he needed from this? To think that the druids and their little paper god had created this.. Gah! Suddenly, he laughed. Oh, but to be given the power of the magi. Had he that strength, this pathetic stick of a tree would be shattered -with- morlith. He briefly invisioned himself ripping Morlith out of the ground, and tossing it at Eldorath. He chuckled again. He drew his attention back to the tree, and rose his hand, speaking a series of quiet words. Whisps of violet energy crackled down his forearm, and struck out at the white tree in a series of tinly lightning bolts. This was greeted only by a brief tremor, followed by the tree expanding, then widening into a sphere. Rathe smiled to himself. Apparently, that fool Milamber had thought of defenses. No matter. Rathe's chanting began again, and this time the room's darkness roiled in, flowing through and permeating the entire chamber. Rathe shuddered briefly as a wave of nausea passed over him, the magics' dark taint burning his mouth like bile. Both hands outstretched, his fingers contorted, red energy surrounding them as a pained grimace crossed Rathe's features. The glowing slowly intensified, and suddenly, with an ear-spitting crack, were released in a bright flash. Shuddering, nearing collapse, he felt himself falling towards the white sphere... He was much closer, now. Had he somehow gained entry? The white light was everywhere, but he sensed something close by, something alive and breathing along with the very hearbeat of the world. This, for some reason, made him ill beyond anything he might feel from his own dark spells. He hated this thing, he realized, hated the life of which it whispered, hated the light with which it radiated. But it was sentient. The light and the life that surrounded him was alive, and very much aware of him. It despised him as much as he despised it, and equally wanted his destruction. But something kept it from crushing him, from utterly destroying him. His will, perhaps, was strong enough to keep him alive. He stretched out one hand, noticing that his body had been replaced with corpreal shadow. Had he been permanently displaced from his body? Spirit-walking had never been something he indulged in.. But there was time enough to think of this later. He owed a debt to his new mistress, and the reward for success in this would be great. Besides, he did not want to think of the price of failure. Rathe began to move forward, slowly sinking into the heart of the tree, coming ever closer to the source of the life around him. As he drew closer, he felt the bonds of maggic around him pressing ever-closer around his mind, his will slipping, his life beginning to ebb away. But he pressed onward, now almost capable of feeling the breath of the creature he neared. He pushed once more, and tumbled forwards, into weightlessness. Momentarily disoriented, he glanced around quickly, taking in his surroundings. He hovered at the center of the light, facing the visage of a beautiful woman clad in white. She studied him, and he her. He instantly he knew that this must be part of the being the druids called Gaea. How easy it would be to move just a little closer, to be taken in, to be 'cleansed'.. He smiled bitterly, veins of red energy crackling into existance around him, gnawing at the surrounding energy like rats. "You are trying to seize my mind.. Such a petty move for a being as 'good' and 'just' as yourself." Rathe murmered, knowing that had he even not vocalized the words, this being would have heard his very thoughts. The entity laughed softly. "I am but playing with you, dark child. If I wanted to destroy you, I would do so. But perhaps this is not yet the time. You seek...something.." Rathe thought he saw the tree-spirit frown for a moment, but it was gone as soon as he noticed it. "You want something that belonged to...Eldran, the fae." Her eyes definitely did narrow this time. "And you want it for.../her/. You will not have it, man-child." The red energy around him crackled again, knitting itself into an intricate web. A black line travelled across his line of sight for a moment, then was gone. He smiled. "Do you not think I could destroy you, tree-woman? I will crush you back into the soil, and you will be used as fertilizer for your pathetic world!" His hand rose, and he yelled out a word of power. The white energies around him frizzed briefly, and the net of red light was flung forwards. The tree-goddess seemed surprised, but the net never reached her. She waved one hand almost dismissively, and the net was completely shredded, dissapearing into the surrounded whiteness. The woman seemed genuinely angry. "You would try to destroy ME, man-child? The one who shepherds all of life on this ruined world? I who have lived a thousand human lifetimes, and have seen apocalypse after apoclaypse destroy the world? You would challenge me, man-child?" Her laughter seemed to take an ominous note. "You are a fool." The whiteness envelopped him, grasping at his shadowy form with hands that had all the resistance of plasteel. He felt himself flung outwards, and slammed back into his waiting body. Conciousness wavered, and died. -------------------------- Message 218 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 13:11:38 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Bleh Apologies for horrible grammer and spelling/ect. I never check these things before sending them :P -------------------------- Message 219 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 14:32:13 1997 EST From: Eponine (#3791) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Christmas Mourn (In keeping with the Xmas posts lately). Frost dotted the grounds of the garden, sparkling in frozen wonderment from the gangrenous branches of Nyx's twisted creations. Still, they lived on, neither heat nor cold seemed to affect them in any way. Mourir reached out to touch a leaf, wrinkling her nose at the sickly sweet smell of puss oozing from the veins the moment her fingers made contact. Nyx said it was acidic, whatever that was. However, it merely felt tinglely on her fingers, unable to penetrate her thick, scarred flesh. Elsara's lumbering form darkened the already dusky sky as she flew in from above, her huge form shaking the earth as her paws hit the ground. Her claws clicked on the stone path as she approached Nyx's orb. "Is she asleep?" Mourir nodded soundlessly. She always trembled when the huge dragon wolf was near. She was envious of Mourir's closeness to Nyx and made no qualms with letting Mourir remember who was the stronger. Mourir scrambled to Nyx's orb, curling up beside one of the brass posts that kept her steady in the center of the garden. Elsara chuckle dryly, snorting black ash into the air. Mourir watched it wisk away on the winds, scattering over a few of Nyx's plants. The orb began to shake then, signifying Nyx's awakening. She sighed softly, her voice reminicient of wind through trees. "Is all in place, Elsara?" Elsara bowed her head before the orb, "Of course, Mistress. They are sent and I shall contact the last of them soon." Nyx's voice sounded momentarily pleased, "Good... " she paused a moment, "The pseudo elf met her last night. I felt it. Things must move quickly now. She is aware of the situation. She must not be let to help Danica." Elsara nodded, eyes glinting breifly at Mourir. Mourir listened with literally no comprehension of the words they spoke, she only understood that pseudo elf was her father. She saw him once, but he did not seem pleased to see her. Only Nyx cared, yes. Only Nyx. A gentle breeze caressed Mourir's head, Nyx's magic. Her voice echoed somewhat triumphantly, "All goes well, all is well, Danica shall be crushed beneath my heel and then I shall return to the Court to take my rightful place." Her laughter echoed balefully throughout the garden. -------------------------- Message 220 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 15:49:37 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: sign in the lounge once again Rathe's infertility services. Infertility spells for EVERY man. We offer low financing payments! call today! comm #15350 -------------------------- Message 221 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 16:07:03 1997 EST From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: home Kaitlyn walked around DarkReach late at night and noticed something was amiss. Someone else had been staying in her home but she wasn't sure who. Little clues left around but nothing significant. "Kaitlyn, your imagination is running wild. You just want to believe someone is here." Kaitlyn walked into the library and picked up a book, taking it back to her room. Kaitlyn sat down in the center of her huge bed and opened up the book, musing to herself, "December 15th, will they be home in time." Kaitlyn caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at it. Slowly she reached over and picked up the teddy bear. Hugging it to her chest, her mind drifter back to Morrigan and last christmas when he'd given her the bear. "I miss his smile." Kaitlyn started to read the words but they just blurred before her eyes. A tear fell onto the book and she slapped it closed and threw it against her door. "Damn them! Damn them all.. Damn this silence!" she screamed into the night. Lying back on her bed she wiped furiously at her cheeks. Sitting back up Kaitlyn lifted her hand slightly her eyes glowing a bright green as she murmured a few words. Suddenly, sweet music filled her room as she layed back on her bed holding the bear against her. -------------------------- Message 222 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Oct 26 20:50:10 1997 EST From: Eponine (#3791) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Just so you know. Anyone entering the Valley now will note that it's beginning to deteriorate slowly. Rumors are floating around that some kind of huge, FLYING dragon wolf has been seen flying overhead, presumably into the Forest of Thorns. It's begun to take on a very creepy feel. -------------------------- Message 223 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Oct 27 15:59:18 1997 EST From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Grim quests.. As though the contact had not been stressful enough, the time spent among the shadowed places between the darkness of death and the grey world of the living tore at her. They were desecrating his grave... It was time for anger, the old man's and her own mingling as fluidly as though it were her own hate running bloodlike through her veins. It was time to teach a few manners. -------------------------- Message 224 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 28 14:03:28 1997 EST From: Job (#17737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Commands Job entered the dark chapel, the soft rustling of his robes the only other sound besides the chill wind. Nothing else stirred, the residents bloody corpses left where they fell, entrails steaming in the air. Moving with practiced precision, he drew out a long tallow candle after finding a sheltered spot to light it. An hour passed before Job finally rose to his feet. The candle had burned down to half its original height. With a soft blaze of red light from his cybernetic eyes he spoke. "So it is spoken, so shall it be done." -------------------------- Message 225 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Oct 28 23:06:18 1997 EST From: Mourir (#21818) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Coming of Age. Mourir awoke suddenly as she felt the vibrations of the sphere, signifying her mistress' awakening. Nyx had been growing tempermental lately, her mood growing steadily worse as the days passed. Now she sent her young servant out to watch and report. Mourir hated leaving the garden. Everyone stared at her and laughed, or worse yet scowled at her ugliness. But, Nyx wanted information, so Mourir would dutifully obey. Nyx's voice cooed from within her spherical prison, "My good little girl. What have you learned today?" Mourir began to account her viewings of her father, and the other questers send to find the shard. Nyx's cooing voice got more and more harsh as she attempted to dicipher the child's speech. Finally a slap of cold air sent Mourir flying into a nettlebush. Elsara's laughter stung even more then the poisonous nettles trying to fill her with their deadly poison to no avail. "That's what you get, mistress, for relying on a child." The Dragon wolf's laughter died very suddenly as she shreiked in pain. Mourir cracked her eyes open to watch. Elsara writhed on the ground, crushing plants in her wake. Finally she cried out, "Enough! Forgive! Forgive..." And Nyx allowed her to recover again. There was a deafening silence in the garden for a long, drawn out moment. Finally Nyx spoke. "You are right, if not horribly insolent. I did not age Mourir enough. That shall be remedied right now." Mourir gasped as a white light suddenly surrounded her. She watched in horror and pain as her limbs seemed to grow disproportionately, followed by her legs and finally her torso. Her head swam and darkness thankfully swallowed her... Hours later she awoke as night's shroud tread across the sky above the garden. She sat up and glanced at her hands... and screamed. -------------------------- Message 226 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 29 08:45:51 1997 EST From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Not another one... There was no denying it this time. Something had crawled down her throat and expired messily, and someone had played it's burial dirge on her skull. Sooner or later, she would figure out why she kept doing this to herself. It was still, thankfully, dark. She risked opening her eyes. Mistake. With a shallow groan, she tried to roll over and bury her head under her pillows. Her pillow appeared to be rather heavy all of a sudden. She noticed it breathing and began to mutter to herself. She could kill it later. She curled around it contentedly, since, if nothing else, it was warm. Er... more to come later. Time for class. ...and, as usual, it's not what most people think. -------------------------- Message 227 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 29 15:54:19 1997 EST From: Ivy (#12541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Devil Children The woman stood in the doorway of her humble abode, the smoke from her cigarette churned about her face, stinging her eyes. She flicked the half smoked butt into the grass, watching the red sparks fly, illuminating the darkness. Her body ached, the pain the woman/child had caused was almost unbareable. She was sure the brat didn't know her, how could she. Aurora was only a baby when she had left. The woman knew she had to contact Akane. Doing this would expose her, she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. But Akane's tortuous heathen child had to be stopped. -------------------------- Message 228 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 29 16:10:37 1997 EST From: Dwight (#20455) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hunching over the lab table. He entwined the strains of dna with practiced precision. Dakiron could not hold anything against him because he made private owned animals. His face grinned as the computer registered success. The computerized reproductions of the strands twirled and whirled, combining into a single string. "Only 1000 strands to go." his smile brightening as he watched the progress indicator. -------------------------- Message 229 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Oct 29 20:01:06 1997 EST From: Aurora (#10655) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Knowledge attained at the cost of others. Aurora ran her finger across the bloodied axe. She pulled the blood droplets away carefully, letting them spin. The woman would not shoot her mouth so readily next time, she thought. "How dare she say she knows anything of me. Or my mother." Aurora sat on the bed, the droplets of blood falling at her feet. She closed her eyes trying to think back to the woman Akane had called his wife, and the one they had called her mother. Aurora remembered the Druidess, her kindness strange. She remembered Lykaj ... his brevity in her life. Then the Winterlands. It seemed as if she had spent all her days in this place. Never however, could she remember a 'Mother'. Aurora shrugged, her mind trying to shift. She smiled as she thought of the pain she had caused to that foolish woman. How Ivy had surrendered at her feet. She wanted the woman to inform her father, to speak out in anger. It made Aurora laugh uneasily a moment. "If she does, I will have a reason to control her. To experiment" Aurora lay back on the bed, her eyes slilpping into sleep. She dreamt of an invisible woman, singing to her in a calming place. The woman was blank, untangible. The song was beautiful constant -- her own song. Aurora woke with a scream. -------------------------- Message 230 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 14:17:51 1997 EST From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: X-mas day The day passed quickly. Kaitlyn sat alone in her room listening to the sounds of Frap moving about in the library and Percival rummaging around in the hallways. She grumbled to herself, "Why should I have expected that after 3 months of silence they would be home for the holidays." Got up from her bed the next day and smiled at Percival on her way out the door, "Where are you off to Miss Kaitlyn?" he asked her. She just winked at him, "Someone promised me a Christmas gift Perci and I plan to go collect it." With a skip in her step she went to go find him. -------------------------- Message 231 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 17:17:45 1997 EST From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Bad Dreams Darius Lee tossed and turned in her sleep. Visions of Rathe with duck tape and him wandering through her dreams wiggling his ears tormented her. Voices everywhere, whispering to her. Reaching for her baby sent her into paranoid fits. Darius Lee screamed in agony as she slept, until Kzin gently sent her even deeper into sleep. -------------------------- Message 232 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 18:08:55 1997 EST From: Elves_On_Crack (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Eh? Dando? Why the hell are people having dreams about me chasing them with duct tape, while illusions in my image wandering around wiggling their ears and giving people wedgies? What evil work of Twon is this? -$elves on crack -------------------------- Message 233 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 20:09:41 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: IC notice Anybody purchasing a helm from someone named Menroth is hereby advised that it is stolen property.. Any person caught dealing in such property will be dealt with by the laws of Drach'Nal. Yes, that means Death. Thank you --The Mngmt (Lord Rathe) -------------------------- Message 234 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 21:22:21 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dragon fun for everyone! A completely skinned, headless dragon corpse was spotted on the R/T helipad recently, covered with carrion birds and insects. The sheer size suggested that it was either an Obsidian or Garnet, although Morlith has not reported any losses of a dragon that size. In other, completely unrelated news, several black-robed mages were spotted milling around in Drach'Nal recently, loading a large number of black, blood-covered scales, several of which appeared to be the size of shields. A puzzled Rathe was also seen outside of his Laboratory, apparently trying to squeeze a large black dragon's head through his front door... -------------------------- Message 235 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 23:33:09 1997 EST From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: surprise of all surprises.. Kaitlyn wandered back to DarkReach after a day of fruitless searching, "Avoid me will he? Next time I'll just have to give him a bit more of a jolt." Passing through the library, Kaitlyn smiled as she saw Frap laying down, she grabbed a blanket and careful not to disturb charlie, she settled a blanket over Fraps sleeping body. She leaned down and softly kissed Frap's cheek. Gently she reached out and brushed her thumb over his weathered skin before straightening. Wandering back to her room she almost stumbled over a box sitting by her bedroom door. She looked at the note taped to the top, 'To Kaitlyn, Hope you enjoy the surprise. Merry Christmas. Rathe' Kaitlyn quickly opened the box and stared inside. Sitting in the box was a gyroslug pistol. Smiling as she kicked open her door dragging the box inside, "he didn't forget." -------------------------- Message 236 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Oct 30 23:44:36 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Yep. Conned into giving my toys away again. I must be on a good streak.. 'll have to kill a few dragons to make up -------------------------- Message 237 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Nov 2 21:11:25 1997 EST From: Avery (#20315) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Katy Avery stood quietly in the wastes. Not even the brutal sands whipping across her soft skin could turn her away from where she looked. Somewhere out in that direction was Uruken. Somewhere out there was Katy. The huge undead had accepted her. Her.. Avery. She couldnt believe it. But the amazing pearl had. Partners.. what a thing was that? Somehow she felt a little less than equal to the giant beast. She turned her head and smiled, hearing Zealot waken in the small tent behind her. Turning, she ducked between the flaps of the tent, having waited patiently to tell him of the newest events. Chuckling softly to herself at the thought of K'Tegran meeting him. --------------------------