Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 16:06:47 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 1 - 50 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 1 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 17 04:50:39 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another sunny day in hell (Rated XXXX. hehe) Growling, Rathe overturned the desk in his office with a blast of air, sending books toppling and papers flying. At that moment, he would have gladly torn down the entire building, had he the strength. Again today, bothering to help anyone had only caused him more pain and danger. Why the hell did he bother? His life was once more in a shambles. After Rescuing Darci from blight the previous day; risking his life to save a 'friend', he heard that Red Fang wanted the one who caused his tower's descruction dead.. "Great", Rathe thought. "Kill an Evil god, and I just get pissed on".. Today had been even better! He aided in rescuing Thistle, and as a result, had gained three new enemies.. Red, Magus Moonheart, and the robot, Slayer.. This had not been a good week. Today, the gap between himself and Lyetra became wider--Rathe had always recognized it, of course.. The hope of marriage, even thier engagement was foolish.. Happiness was not possible.. Only more anger, more strife. Even when one experienced happiness, it would ultimately come to an end.. Even life itself would one day result in only a painful death. Closing his eyes, he slumped down against the wall, staring at the wrecked office. Nothing was right-end up, he hardly remembered causing most of this damage.. A wave of confusion passed over him, at his own actions, and those of others. His "friends" and enemies changed drastically.. The girl, Coreen, Flame as she called herself, expressed sympathy towards his situation with Lyetra.. Sympathy! As had Avolent, to an extent.. He thought them both trying to trick him, bait him, but yet they seemed genuine.. Why would they give a shit? Rathe, rising, surveyed his office once more.. Chaos. His surroundings only represented the same state which his life was in. He sighed, and headed out the door. He needed a drink. -------------------------- Message 2 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 17 05:42:39 1997 EST From: Nigel (#7159) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Ponderings Nigel sat quietly in his sleeping bag, gazing at the barren walls of the small cell he was confined in. His outer calm was a mask for the turmoil beneath. Red Fang...that foolish, demented man with his skewed sense of honor. Again, Nigel berated himself for being captured. Such carelessness was not his way...despite the stresses of the day. And now prisoner. Nigel pondered his medical kit...Red Fang had left him that for some foolish reason. Nigel had tried killing himself once already, slitting his own throat with the knife Red Fang had foolishly forgoten to confiscate. Red Fang had called in the magus Moonheart whose skills healed the wound in the bare seconds before Nigel could bleed to death. Perhaps Red Fang did not realize the options available in a fully stocked medkit for a trained physician who seeked to end his life. Nigel did not like to visit the Eagle, but the thought of being used as a bartering piece in Red Fang's little games was even worse. Nigel shook his head. With the cyborg guarding his room there was little chance for escape...even his skills had limits. But a simple death was not an option either. Perhaps Red Fang knew what he was doing when he acceeded to Nigel's request to see the other prisoners. Perhaps. The experience still sickened Nigel. Not the injuries, though those were bad...Nigel had seen far worse in his day. But the sickening inhumanity they displayed. Poor Myst...the first caught up in this, the longest to suffer. And gentle Alluvia. He had given her his card once...told her to call him if she ever needed protection. Nigel sighed. He had failed her. Her and her young son...abandoned somewhere. Myst had a son as well...they were both mothers. For a moment his mind flashed back to his own wife. His beloved Ylise, their unborn child nestled in her womb. His hands clenched...the only testament to his inner rage. His brow furrowed with grim determination. No, Red Fang. I shall not choose an easy death. You will find me anything but easy. -------------------------- Message 3 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 17 10:14:50 1997 EST From: Myst (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hardships and common sense (PG-13) Myst fumed. She fumed about the apparent stupidity of her friends. In return for their obedience, Red had promised Myst and Thistle a little walk, much as one might promise a domestic pet. Myst kept her anger contained, content on seeing the sun again, and perhaps feeling the fresh air in her lungs. With a shock, she found out they were heading to the Lounge, where the humiliation and degredation would begin. It was bound to happen sooner or later, she thought. They met the Magistra Alluvia in the transport on their way out of their prison, which was in some interesting swamp-like place. She pleaded first, then command Red to let Myst and Thistle go...Myst clenched a fist, telling Alluvia not to bother. She seemed surprised. Red basically ignored Alluvia until the R/T was reached, and Myst and Thistle were paraded up to the Lounge, where many shocked faces awaited them. One of them was Yshar. Myst winced to herself. His blade flew from its sheath, and he began yelling, others joining him in turn. Myst shook her head, mumbling for them all to get back, and stop. Did they not realize what would happen? A brawl broke out, which was quickly quelled by Red's nimble blade, and he led the women out into the wasteland. Alluvia and Yshar caught up, but were hewn down, and lost. Red brought them back to their little prison, a little annoyed that their walk had been cut short. He told them how they had done "very well", and how he was proud of them. Myst grit her teeth together. She had no appetite for the promised meal which Red left to prepare. Instead, she crawled into the bed and shut her tired eyes. She asked herself why all of her friends did not see the situation as it was.... Yshar had pleaded for Thistle to come over to him... Alluvia asked Myst if she wished to remain Red's slave.... Of course she did not! They had to ask??! It wasn't bad enough that they did not see that part of the situation... they also did not realize that should Myst or Thistle try to escape, the chances were slim, and one or the other or both would be punished for their attempt. But they could not see that... could not understand... Instead, they stood and called out, hurt when Myst did not respond... They could not see... Before she dropped off into a shallow slumber, Myst recalled Yjezra's visit earlier in the day...to drop off herbs to replenish Myst's supply. Myst saw the anger in her eyes, saw it peak when she demanded they be set free... Red raised his blade and Myst knew it would be all over... The pair stared off, down each each other's lengthy blades... Myst shuddered with the recollection. If Yjezra were to be captured... She imagined the chaos that would overtake the Mount...imagined a furious garnet going on a rampage. She also knew that Red would try to break Yjezra...she saw some hidden feelings pass between them...Yjezra asked Red to call her past... It was all very confusing, but Myst only relaxed when Red led Yjezra away, blade sheathed. She had no clue if he hadn't double-crossed her, but she did not see her in here which was about as good the news would ever be. Slumber followed suit..a shallow, troubled slumber which left Myst tossing and turning all night. -------------------------- Message 4 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 17 10:26:52 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Recue ( -R- prolly ) Thistle laid in the big bed looking over at Myst, thankful that Myst would be spared. Taking the punishment for each other was a hard thing to watch, recieving it because people didnt understand was even harder. Thistle thought back over the nights events. She was glad Red was happy to get her back and did not blame her, but her heart sank at the thought of her friends trying to rescue her for nothing. Bless them, but they did not understand how Myst owned half of her. SHe was not sure Myst truly understood. Yshar didnt, she knew that. Yshar, god how sweet making love to him was in those stolen minutes before she realized he would not let her go back to Myst. THistle retraced the events. Red meeting with Harrison and Locus on Dixie, Locus insulting her. Then meeting them again in the lounge, this time Hannibal was there. Her heart lept at seeing skywalker, the one person she was allowed to talk to. Then the sadness that he would not speak with her, only saying hello. Then things happened so fast, she was not sure anymore what happened. Thistle frowned slightly thinking back to how Red hand handed her leash over to Harrison, saying he could be her tempory owner. Some test of how tame she was, she thought. Then Red left her there. Harrison told her to rise and to follow him. What could she do? He was her 'new' master at the moment. So she followed, until realizing what was happening, but then Hannibal and Rathe were there, not Harrison. Repeatedly they knocked her unconcious. 'Saving her'. Waking she found herself on Morlith with Yshar, how happy she was to see him, and how scared. Would she be strong enough to go back to Myst? Or would she fail and lose herself forever. Thistle ran her hand over her neck and down to her abdomen, sweet memories stirring up the yearning she had felt as Yshar laid her on the bed in the cave. Quickly she shook those thoughts away. She would need to hold onto to them in the days to come. She thought back to how she reluctantly slid from his bed, slowly dressing in her 'costume' and tried to leave, but Tyz..sweet Tyz would not let her go. CLamping her eyes tightly she tried not to think of the hateful things she said to Yshar, trying to make him let her go. FInally after agreeing to drink his poison, he relented. Releasing her on the helipad. It was so hard to leave him, and harder yet to tell Red of the poison. Within seconds he had Moonheart fixing her, and back 'home' they went. Thistle stared up at the ceiling, "Seanhair, what will this new day hold for me, and will i have the life ive known when it is done" Curling up in a tight ball, Thistle prays for Yshar, hoping he will wait. OOC : real sorry for the spam, but it was a REAL long night, and i did leave out a LOT. ...hehehe.. and im blaming my typos on the fact that its a REAL early morning. -------------------------- Message 5 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 17 21:01:15 1997 EST From: Morpheus (#12681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Lesson - Part I Morph sat quietly near the fire in his mentor's cave. SHadows flickered upon the walls as he stared silently into the flames, deep in contemplation. A short distance away, his mentor slept quietly, her chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her calm breathing. Smiling, he reached out and gently touched her lips, remembering with great fondness how they had felt against his the first time. Raven's shadowy call came unexpectedly, and for a moment, Morpheus was caught unawares. Then, concentrating, he forced himself to relax and breathe deeply. His vision wavered for a moment as he loosened the hold of the physical world upon his body and allowed himself to slide into another phase of consciousness. Raven awaited him here, its form seemingly more substantial in the spirit realms, than in the physical. "Why do you call" asked Morpheus as he glanced at the spirit. "A POSSIBILITY NEXUS APPROACHES. YOU MUST BE READY." Morpheus opened his mouth to ask, and then closed it again. Time had taught him that Raven was seldom wrong. "What must I do?" "THE TIME HAS COME FOR YOU TO LEARN MORE. PREPARE YOURSELF VOICE WE MUST VENTURE INTO THE UMBRA." Morpheus glanced curiously at his Spirit Guide, but did not question. Floating free of his corporeal form, Morph followed Raven into the shadowy mass that was the Umbral Realm........(cont. in Lesson - Part II) -------------------------- Message 6 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 17 21:45:25 1997 EST From: ARMX (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: |+| FUNCTIONAL |+| ARMX shook its head for a moment as its neural net, booted and began the process of initializing its systems. A single digital glyph flashed in its vision as his servos became active and righted him. |+| FUNCTIONAL |+| Slowly but surely, his other systems began to initialize, one by one. |+|Systems Diagnostic. Checking.....|+| |+|Neural Net Processor -- 100% Operating Efficiency|+| |+|Support Chassis -- 100% Structural Integrity|+| |+|Modular Servomotors -- 100% Operating Efficiency|+| |+|Cerebral Storage Cortex -- 23% Operating Efficiency|+| |+|Photon Assault Cannon -- ERROR! Device not responding!|+| ARMX glanced downwards at its right arm as the last message scrolled onto his vision. Where the bulky frame of the PPC6 should have been, a severd stump of wires and microcircuitry was left. Unsure of what to do, ARMX accessed his memory banks to determine a course of action. |+|ERROR! File:Contingency1:Emergency not found.|+| A feeling of panic swept over ARMX as he processed the response from his memory. In desperation, he tried again. |+|ERROR! File:Contingency2:Emergency not found.|+| An alarm seemed to sound somewhere within his consciousness, and after a moment another line appeared within his vision. |+|Accessing File Survival1....|+| |+|Initiating Program Sentience Level 1|+| |+|CPU Write Set.|+| ARMX's consciousness suddenly expanded as a wave of possibilities flooded his thoughts. Glancing about the room, he noted an old pile of scap metals. The restraining straps on the laboratory table snapped easily as he rose to his full height and approached the pile. With his mind afire, he quietly initiated a command of his own. |+|Set Priority 1 = SURVIVE|+| -------------------------- Message 7 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Feb 18 08:34:52 1997 EST From: Myst (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A watched freedom Myst lay awake on the cold floor in a thankfully larger room than the one she had spent the past few weeks in, thinking. Red was most obviously beginning to trust them more and more as each day passed. After being led down briefly by Red himself, they were allowed back on their own, with only Nenana to watch them. She was an interesting wolf, friendly enough, but something about her set Myst's teeth on edge. No matter...she enjoyed a drink in what had been too long, days or weeks she could not tell...but it tasted so good.... She ignored the leering eyes as the scanty clothing she wore...another time she might relish the attention, but not in her present situation. Remembrance and Solitude were there... it was a good thing Red had not returned, or there might have been trouble. Rathe was off in a corner...something had happened between him and Lyetra...she knew that much, but was unable to find out more. It would have to wait. Thistle was really attached to Nenana...the little one was even able to smile now, stroking the wolf's red fur. Myst smiled faintly. It was good to see Thistle smiling, but it meant that she could not kill the little watcher, for fear of upsetting her. Although she doubted it, perhaps Red would let them go out completely alone. She shivered slightly at what she might have to do to earn that trust. Red seemed in a good mood today, after shooting down people and fleeing the lounge... He had let Nigel go, making Ylise beg for it... Myst felt her pain at that moment, knowing all too well what it was like to abase oneself to a person one would much rather kill, to get what one wanted.... Again, thoughts of Red's imminent demise filled her head. She had an idea forming in her head already...Thistle did not like it very much, but there was really little to lose. Compared with what they had already lost.... She might not have to put her plan into action...if Red were stupid enough to let them go without an escort, they would probably slip away to the Mount. Not the best plan, but effective. She had never wanted to see Thistle hurt, not before, and not now...if it came that they had to use her plan, she would do it alone. Although Thistle expressed an extreme desire to stick together at all costs, Myst felt that she would have to break their little bond, momentarily....but they would both reap the rewards. Rathe had pushed her rage to its limits, but she dare not strike out, both from the lack of a weapon, and so that Red would not know of the strength she still possessed. She had not intention of having it whipped out of her... Soon they left, returning "home" to a smiling Red-Fang, and they crawled into his bedroom..on the cold floor. They did not ask when he did not make them share his bed. The reason went without saying. -------------------------- Message 8 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Feb 18 11:23:40 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Changes Thistle sat looking out at the moon and stars as they slowly faded into the dawning light. Holding nenana close to her she sang quietly to herself. The words fitting all she had become. Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise I must think of a new life And I musnt give in. When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory to and a new day will begin. Touch me, its so easy to leave me ... ...all alone with the memory of my days in the sun If you touch me, I will know what happiness was. Look, a new day has begun. Thistle buried her head in Nenana's fur trying to drown out her sobs. Hoping she didnt awaken Myst, and praying she didnt awaken Red. Each day she was losing more of herself, This new, kinder Red scared her more than any torture. At least with torture she could shut herself down. Hugging Nenana tightly to her, Thistle looked over at Red-Fang on the bed and Myst sleeping close to her on the floor. Change was needed. And fast. She has already shocked herself and Myst by calling Red by his given name. Change. It was time to start thinking, for running away wouldnt solve anything. This had to fixed, so as not to bite back at a later date. Thistle gently stroked Nenana's fur, whispering softly, "Im sorry Nenana, i will never hurt you..but I'm going to be free." OOC : 'Memory' is the title of the song, one of my fav's from the musical 'Cats'. - one line i changed a bit to fit better. *smile* Dont even let me get started on Les Mis. -------------------------- Message 9 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Feb 18 15:30:20 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) now it was a matter of simply not wandering around morosely, as if her death were upon her. now it was a matter of hoping for things in the future. Rathe had, essentially, left her - and she pledged herself to him for always on his way out the door. She meant to keep that vow... it was something Rathe needed desperately, as far as she saw it, to have something he could always rely on. She intended to be that something - wether she was doomed to live out her days alone or not. She was convinced he loved her, and she knew beyond doubt she loved him. Even past this, she had seen Thistle today and been able to cheer her slightly, she hoped. Red-Fang had walked her into the loune like she was little more than a beast. But Thistle hadn't looked entirely unwell, and she could still hug and smile. Lyetra felt that Thistle was a sisiter to her - even if she wasn't truly. Red had said some unsavory things about Rathe, and Thistle had asked about the wedding (she felt a deep pang thinking about this.. the cancelled wedding).. Lyetra had known things were going wrong with rathe.. but had told Thistle it was merely a matter of setting the date. Thistle didn't deserve to worry about her, she had enough trouble. And so, as Lyetra lay down on the sand in the waterall cave on Jizo, she knew that not only had she lost Syyrl.. she had lost Rathe too. And unless something drastic were to happen, she had bounmd herself to him by her words.. and her love. -------------------------- Message 10 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Feb 18 15:34:24 1997 EST From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: REturn.. Alluvia sighed, angry and hurt... she was still weak from the tried spell. Red had drained almost everything from her, making her fear even him. His torture extreme, so far as even to pour salt on her bloodied open wounds. She thought of Milamber, her new teacher how perhaps he could help her. Her mind still lay confused, only clearing towards the break of the new day, when Xavier had held close to her, whispeing soft, gentle, calming words. She did not remember nearly falling into his arms from utter exhaustion and fatigue. Her body had been healed of the injuries inflicted, healed by the Seeker Rathe. She would indeed mention him to her old and beloved teacher Mantle. A good student to him, Rathe would be. And though everything on the outside looked so at peace.. so calm again, Alluvia was scared to show her true fear, anger... almost hate for the man who kept taking from so many. She tried to show him, exasperating all her will into one spell, showing fright into Red.. before being slashed in the neck, the spell breaking. She tried to show him this was not the way. How blind Red had become, how truly frightening had his presence shown itself to be. She could not be near him, without shaking. She could not talk with him, without feeling a deep fear. He had indeed, as he said, changed her. These weeks had been both good and bad for her. In her acceptance of the druidic way, she had given herself to a cause. In being taken by Red, she had felt herself taken, and drained of all she was. It had truly grown to be a confusing sight. -------------------------- Message 11 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Feb 18 22:34:16 1997 EST From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dark Tidings. Devon watched as the weeks past on jizo, unable to leave the place for some reason, fettered to his body. He noticed Myst was not home, something was wrong. And he was unable to do anything... or was he? In a darker thought he found a mini-rex, he found he was able to piggy back inside it's body for a while, over time exerting his will and eventually gaining control of the thing. He'd never be able to do this to a human, but this was a very good start. He left the things body, his own focus weakened and wandered jizo, going into dreams, listening to thoughts in their mind as they slumbered. Piecing together what was happening he knew he had to move fast, Myst was in serious danger and so were a few friends. Anger, he knew anger got him into this problem, it was still an evil seed with Yara's emotions inside him. Devon concentrated, finding a way, he knew there had to be. He screamed aloud, his energys flowing back into his body, free from his dimensional imprisonment he felt damn good to be alive again. Much to his sorrow his body was in poor condition, he could barely stand let alone walk, he toppled back into the bed, and rested taking a few scraps from the kitchen and feeding himself, before he passed out. He dreamed that night, he wanted his life back and god help him he was going to get it or else.... -------------------------- Message 12 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 07:54:22 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Avoiding pitfalls ??? It took everything Red had to not show the emotion he was getting from nenana, the she wolf cared deeply for Thistle and it caused a wave of guilt to rush over Red when they where together. Then what had happened later on with Thistle and Myst, at first Red thought it was just the conditioning, but Myst was up to something. Now the would fight the challange. What would happen. Then the strange visit by Valentine, it sure the hell wasn't the Valentine Red knew. His admiration for the woman had always been her independance and strength. Now she was trying to seduce him and offering him help. Red wasn't in the mood. Women were more dangerous than the Chim. Something wasn't right at all.. Trusting a woman would get you nothing but touble Red thought... Red.. -------------------------- Message 13 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 08:25:22 1997 EST From: Myst (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Out of the frying pan and into the fire (R-Rated, just to be safe) Myst wanted so much to vomit, but knew that she could not, or the entire charade would be blown. She had woken to see Red sitting at a table in the Keep, Thistle massaging his shoulders. "Long day, poor Red?" she thought, mentally chuckling. Red was resting passively in the chair, and it was an opportunity she found that she could not pass up. She quickly recalled the plan that she had discussed with Thistle, and it was clear Thistle had the same idea, whispering "The mission..." as she passed by. Myst took a deep breath and started to attend to Red as Thistle was, and he grinned happily at her. He was clearly happy that his little slave wanted to please him, and, as planned, his mind took it a bit too far. Red's hand climbed up her back, and Thistle left Red and went to pet nenana softly, on the floor. It was clear that Thistle did not want to partake in their dangerous little plan, and Myst thought it was perfectly fine, persuading Red to continue where they would not be seen. She was taking a very large risk, trusting herself and her little herbal remedy she had mixed up. Red drank deeply from the pitcher, beckoning her over to him. She smiled and generally appeared to be happy...she had gotten much better at this acting thing ever since she was captured... She casually let him remove the scanty clothing he had provided, from her, and gaze at her body. Every inch of her wanted to strike out at that moment, and try to strangle him...but she knew he was stronger, and that such an action would only be taken out on Thistle and herself... Better to earn his complete trust... As her herbal aphrodesiac increased Red's lust, she could see it in his eyes, the want for her that she had seen a hint of on earlier occasions, hidden behind jokes or insults. She shuddered deep inside. It was now or never. She ordered her mind not to act, not to respond, until she told it to. She remained completely motionless as Red's hands drifted over her body, much like a lover's caress. To avoid distraction, she filled her mind with the pleasant thoughts of how she would exact her revenge on Red when she and Thistle escaped... She found the moment she was looking for, when his lust had peaked, and she stopped his hand gently. She told him how he would never truly have her...unless... She let his curiosity take hold. She told him that if he really wanted her, he need only Challenge her... His interest as well as his lust were peaked. She explained a few things to him, and they agreed to hold the challenge the next day, in the Round Room, where there would be numerous witnesses. Myst had passed from the frying pan into the fire...putting more at stake than she could possibly handle. No matter what happened, she would make Thistle go free... Thistle had someone who loved her awaiting her return...Myst had only a corpse and memories. She might not win, but she had another plan for that. She would just have to see how things went. In the worst possible scenario, her abstinence of six months would be broken, nothing more. She sighed, and began to work muscles that had stiffened during her stay at Red's. She would need everything she had. ***OOC We'll hold the challenge somewhere around 6PM CST (5 MST, 7EST, etc.) It'll probably be short and sweet, but we need the witnesses :) -------------------------- Message 14 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 11:43:57 1997 EST From: Yggidrasil (#10625) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A return. Yggidrasil, strong in mind and body returned to morlith. He hopped off Kisanth's back, his travels had taught him alot, he'd been beyond the ghostwheel, there was a chance to die he didn't know why he left everyone, when he did it felt like it was time to do something he just didn't know what. Yggy had been around what was formerly the US, mostly on the west coast. Yggy saw suffering, he saw pain like he'd never known, the cataclysm, the corruption all of it was very hurting. But he had to face it, he had to learn what happened. Yggidrasil talked with people, helped those he could, he spent much of his time in a small farming village helping them plant and till the soil, he grew up in this short time. All that remained for Yggy was to find out about himself, he had to learn of his heritage. Yggidrasil left again with Kisanth, she was getting lonely, and he knew they couldn't be away from other dragons for much longer, deciding Kisanth should start heading back, while he used technology to get to new lands, ships. Yggidrasil arrived in the northwest of north america, this was where his father was born, and where his brethen were, they were a very proud people, while they held little for honor as he did, they did have their own pride to them. He took up what few books his people had, promising their return someday, and left back for Morlith. It was time to go home. Chuckling quietly as he passed thru the halls, he noticed he'd grown a small beard, it wasn't that bad he thought and he decided to keep it, just waiting for his friends shock when they saw him. He strapped his hammer to his back, sighing quietly and went to bed, he was home. -------------------------- Message 15 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 12:09:51 1997 EST From: Tyrmyr (#18644) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: final solutions Tyrmyr sits down on a stool in the R/T lounge, deciding his final course of action. The problem? strange things that seem to be happening to his mind. people telling him he was saying he was a army commander of some sort, & had threatened to come back & conquer this whole area. All of which is nonsense to Tyrmyr,it always seems t to happen when he is alseep (strange that he has started sleeping 12 hours a day...). The time has come for a solution to this, & some people have suggested a few things, the best seeming solution they gave him was to go to a mage with skill in soul magics, seeing as this would seem to be close to that area of magic. After awhile of thought on that he decides to try to find such a mage & see what he has to say. an answer must be found, this is just to annoying. tyrmyr gets up & walks out of the lounge to start his search. OOC: well I still need a mage to help here, any takers? just page me, @send me, or find me, I would kinda like to finish this little storyline. I guarentee fireworks at the end of this tp. I also welcome all who want to watch/rp. Tyrmyr. -------------------------- Message 16 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 12:24:09 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A new day had begun... ( R ...I think .. but i need to see that list of ratings again...cause maybe not ) *chuckle* Thistle awoke slowly, missing Nenana's warmth against her. Opening her eyes she glanced around for her, feeling slightly panicked at not seeing her. Her eyes slowly moved across the room, pausing to rest on Myst, something was different....ahhh..that was it..Myst was dressed properly. But where was Nenana? Pushing herself up off the floor, Thistle stumbled over her sword, confusion stopping her for a moment as she glanced down at it. Her clothes and other belongings were lying beside it. She no longer cared about what it could mean, all she wanted was to see Nenana. Slowly she pushed back the heavy curtain and stepped into the main chamber of Red's Keep. Sweet relief washed over her. Nenana was here, sleeping in front of the hearth. Thistle dropped to her knees then curled up beside her, wrapping her arms tightly around Nenana. Thistle clamped her eyes tightly shut, she wouldnt think about last night. How could she feel all those things? How could she feel hate, lust, love and jealousy. Her mind recoiled at remembering how she had touched the back of Red's neck, how not all of her disliked it. She shook her head, willing the thoughts to leave her. But ended only in more questions surfacing. Where was Seanhair? Why hadnt he spoken to her, told her words of wisdom? How could he leave her now? ^ Thistle buried her face in Nenana's fur, trying to tell the wolf all she felt and feared, only a garble sound of anguish escaping her lips. -------------------------- Message 17 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 17:16:20 1997 EST From: Avolent (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Peaceful days. It had been strange how much she had bonded with the recomb. She woke up, healed, but in slight pain. The sedative he had given her to dull the deep pang of hurt had worn away, leaving her in a slight hunger, as well as an uncomfortable state. Avolent rubbed her head, looking around. "No Jayren" she said aloud. She looked at her ankle, now affixed tightly in a cast of sorts. He had healed her, again. Avolent looked down at the injury.. sighing. Last night had been a difficult one indeed. After staying in his den for days now, she had grown accustomed to him, his movements, his waking and sleeping. She was not only curious, but also slightly concerned. He had been hurt before by a drunken hunter, sent by Dakiron to "recondition" the recomb. The man was a fool, shooting Jayren with a paralysis gun of sorts. She had taken the then unconcious form to the Infirmary, safe from the hunter, and the various other lookers on. She then called for Nigel. He could heal him easily. She aided Nigel, watching him work... The recomb going quite feral at times, and then calm, very appreciative of his human healers. When Avolent had wandered later that eve, to the presence of a very preturbed Red Fang, she had suffered the ills of his anger. So quickly had he struck her down with his gun, for simple words. She was surprised when she had woken up, being healed by Jayren, his concern present. He had told her to stay in safety, in the confines of his den. It had indeed proven itself to be the best for her, the safest. He had done much for her benifit, helped her to gather food, kept her warm in the nights, and most of all been a friend to her. It was strange to see so much kindness... Exhibited to her, none the less. So she had felt the need to tell him. Some of what she was... Who she was... Who she had been. Jayren was not pleased. When she told of her afiliation with the Coven, he became disheartened... Untrusting. He ordered her away, growing quite angry as she tried to speak her reasoning. "It was strange how he grew so cold... so fast" Avolent sighed, looking down at the scar along her arm. She had tried to show him, by a cut... an oath, that she would not betray him. That who she was was a chosen boundary. That she had no reason to cause him pain. The smell of the blood had caused his anger to increase; His feelings from friendship now turning to a need or a want to kill. So animalistic, she could see it within his eyes. His growl was intense as he told her to go, her pace quick as she left the den. She heard the anger as he ripped and destroyed entirely the matress she had once been sleeping on. She was near his den, healing her wound. She watched him exit... stalking off into the forrest, away from her. She followed, foolishly... walking in paces behind him. She did not like how the friendship had fell so quickly. He found her, her scent strong. His anger was still so strong as he approached her. She quckly ran, dissapearing quickly, loosing herself in the forest foilage. As she looked back to trace his nearness, she stumbled, landing hard on her knee... twisting and spraining her ankle. Avolent looked down at the now healed ankle, her memories fluttering in and out. He cornered her as she had fallen, pouncing, his fangs barred, near her neck. He was ready to kill, she could feel all of his anger now... his words so hostile. Her mind waviered, his weight crushing her chest, denying her of oxygen. He let free, watching over her, sniffing at the wound, moving to heal the wound. She grimaced... feeling the pain shoot through her, the blood still trickling. She did not understand, but Jayren would not kill her. She shuddered as he gave her strange leaves... telling her to eat them. Their taste was bitter, but their purpose soon took effect. She drifted into sleep, not noticing as he picked her up, taking her back to his den once again. She looked down, sighing.. It had indeed been a long... strange night. She spied upon a small package, nestled between her arms. She had not remembered this being there when she awoke. She did not dare open it, she decided to wait to see if he would return first. It made little sense, all of this. She did not question however, and could not do much to change her current situation. Her ankle was still quite sore. Avolent lie back on the ground, resting yet again... "I will wait for him." She spoke softly... "Then..... we will see.." -------------------------- Message 18 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 19 17:31:07 1997 EST From: Valentine (#10512) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A flyer: The following flyer is distributed in areas of high traffic: >From the Law Offices of Valentine, esq.: If you or anyone you know has ever been adversely affected, through action or intimidation, by the wasteland warlord Red Fang, please contact the law offices of Valentine, esq. by mail or comm. This information is of the utmost importance and urgency. Please respond before Thursday (OOC: By Thursday, Feb. 20) of this week. Any help will be very much appreciated. ---Valentine, esq. -------------------------- Message 19 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Feb 20 08:23:51 1997 EST From: Myst (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rejoice and revenge (R Rated just to be safe) It was a day that started out on a melancholy note, and only got better as the day progressed. Myst wandered about the Wastes for most of the day, using muscles she had not used in a while, had not needed while in Red's clutches. She had needed to prepare herself for the Challenge that Red would put to her today. She had a lot on the line, but it was reassuring to know that he would not be bothering Thistle any more. Myst entered the R/T early, to get a drink, and talk with a few friends. Rathe was saying something about Devon being back. Silly. Devon was safely sitting in their room on Morlith. A few minutes later she was proven wrong, because her long lost husband, looking a little worse for wear, walked in. At first she thought it was some kind of magic (dead people didn't just get up and walk away, even on the Ghostwheel...) But, a quick poke of her knife showed him to be as tangible as herself. Mixed emotions filled her, she wanted to run and embrace him, but how could she, knowing that in a few minutes, she would likely be beaten in a challenge, and be taken by Red-Fang? She hugged him out of the formality of it, did not impart any knowledge upon him that might upset him in his frail condition. Somehow he had heard, and he was making foolish statements, that he would be her champion... He could barely walk, and he expected to be able to fight? She admired his courage, seeing in him the qualities that she had seen when she had married him, those that she thought she would never again see. The reunion was cut short when Red-Fang entered. All had hoped that he would not show, and forfeit the Challenge, but it was not to be. He started out with the correct opening, exchanging titles and names. She raised the mask-piece of her helmet to confirm that she was who he sought. The Challenge would then begin. Her face was cold, as unmoving as the mask- piece. Red-Fang kneeled before her, dropped his blade at her feet, but did not utter the words of Challenge. Instead, he surrendered for his crimes. She was shocked. She tried not to show it, crouching down to take his blade, untrusting. She placed it on his neck, feelings of rage taking hold on her body, as memories of her long ordeal with Thistle came flooding back. Her friends consoled to do the same to him, humiliate him..degrade him. Eye for an eye, Yjezra suggested. Devon even proposed transforming him into a woman somehow, and making him wear the degrading outfit she had been made to wear. It amused her faintly, but she thought that since he approached her in honor, though he had done dishonorable and degrading things, he should receive honor in return. She would not sink to his level, despite all of the cooings of her friends. She fell back on an old practice, not used for many hundreds of years, when the female half of her tribe were not fighters. Men from other tribes used to kidnap their tribe's females to increase their own numbers, and whenever one of these kidnappers was taken, he was immediately castrated. Rough, hard justice that had passed into the Amazon side of her tribe when they had developed their fighting skills and became what they are today. She would enact this law, as Red had not taken her by proper Challenge the first time, yet expected her to act as if he had. His scream echoed in her ears, as did the vision of his friend plunging his sword into Red's body to rid him of the pain... Perhaps the worst thing was that she felt very little remorse for doing it. She thought all of the degrading things she had been "trained" to do, and felt that they justified her action...but somewhere inside was pity... She let the subject go from her tired mind, dragging her tired body and that of her husband, home.... Home that she had not seen for three months. She would ponder things later...for now, all she wished was sleep, pleasant rest with the warm body of her husband lying next to her. OOC - Thanks to all involved, especially Red, for taking that extra little knocking around that we all enjoyed! :) -------------------------- Message 20 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Feb 20 11:53:47 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Within the dreamworld, thruths are as freely flowing as water. Lyetra Orynx knew where she was, and why she was there, and what the yellow rue spreading through the filed before her meant. So she waited with a sad sort of joy, for her dead love to arrive. And arrive he did, his violet cloak billowing about him as he rushed toward her, always glad to see her, even in death. He smiled at her with his blue eyes - eyes too like Rathe's for Lyetra's heart just now - and she clung to him, between tears and joy. It had been several months since she had last dreamed Syyrl... it had been since she had begun with Rathe. Now that that was ending, Syyrl was here for her. She loved him as much as she always had, maybe more at this moment when she had nothing else to direct her love at. He riased her small chin to meet his gaze, and brushed the hair back from her face. 'Mo choill, it is because he reminds you of me that you love him so, na fuil?' he half smiled at her. "Ah hells, Lyetra. Why must you always do this to yourself?" She shook her head, the misty dream haze swirling around her. He was right... Rathe brought Syyrl to her mind more than anyone she'd met since Syyrl's death. His blue eyes, his impudent pride, his tendency to run off into trouble. And when she had told Rathje that night that she merely wanted to save them both - she meant not only herself (from guilt) and Rathe (from whatever it was he was barreling toward with such deadly accuracy), but Syyrl too, from the death she hadn't been able to save him from the first time around. They were so alike, not merely in form, but in mind... and in heart. 'My Syyrl, I do not doubt he loves me. He wishes to spare me grief,' she caressed Syyrl's cheek, 'But I have known greif, and survived it. I want to make him happy, love... but I suppose I can not. He told me to give up.' He drew her closer, 'That's not your way, Etra. You don't simply give up... what a bloody fool he is that he doesn't even know that about you. What a fool he is.. he doesn't appreciate you.' He kissed her forehead, holding her shoulders in his warm hands. She couldn't cry when his touch was upon her, which was a blessing, but her heart banged and raged in her chest - and not merely at Syyrl's touch, but at the thought of losing yet another love. Syyrl continued, 'You've gotten some good advice, Etra. Don't trhow it away becuase you're stubborn.' Etra thought of Rathe yelling at Tyzrath... that he was blaming the Mount for all of this. Syyrl knew of her vow to Rathe, and he respected it. He wasn't asking her to move on if she didn't want to. She felt drawn toward the dragons more strongly than ever now... now that it seemed so little was left to her outside of that. 'Syyrl, should I make it to Mount Morlith, I will prove to him that I shall remain the Lyetra you both love. Let there be no question about that.' Syyrl smiled, stepping away from her, then back in for a long kiss. 'You make me very proud, my noble little Etra.' He then turned and vanished into the mist... Opening her eyes, her hands tangled in the bedsheets, Lyetra knew that the tears weren't over... but that she was through shedding them in front of her worried friends. That she would respect rathe's wishes, and 'go on' with life. But if she never belonged to another her whole life through, then that was as it should be. She would prove herself to rathe, and win his love. And if she couldn't.... it was his own fault. -------------------------- Message 21 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Feb 20 15:01:57 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Freedom Thistle wandered the wastelands with the red wolf, nenana. She couldnt remember the last time she felt this free, this happy. Only thoughts of Yshar and this new distance between them casting any darkness on the day. Thistle looked down at the deep cut in her palm, the pain little in comparison to what it signified. She could not tell the difference between her blood or Red-Fangs, both had mixed on her palm. She thought back to earlier. She had let nenana into the keep just as Red was awakening. No doubt surprising him that she was there, in his room. She asked him, before she could think and be to scared to, a question that Seanhair in his wisdom had led her too. "Can i ask something of you, in leau of my right to exact punishment from you? You have the right to say no, and this be the end of it then." She asked. Thistle smiled, he had said yes, agreeing to honor what she asked of him. Thistle closed her hand, protecting her palm from the blowing sands. How curiously he had looked at her after she had cut his hand with her dagger. Offering him her hand and her knife. She thought for a moment he might not accept this bond. But he had. Clasping his hand in hers, their blood smearing between united palms, she let his apology and oath lift the heavy weight in her heart. Thistle kneeled and hugged nenana, "lets go see what awaits us now" OOC : this has been great fun. Thanks guys. -------------------------- Message 22 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Feb 20 19:20:30 1997 EST From: Yara (#14211) To: *Storylines (#5236) The Nymph is back.......... -------------------------- Message 23 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Feb 20 23:03:41 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: retcon This is to formally retcon any relationship to Arwen that Red was rumored to of had. I had to formally do this because a friend can't take one at his word. She can only read it on *tps. I am dangerously close to retconning Red's relationship to Remembrance also so stay Tuned. Robert -------------------------- Message 24 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 09:32:04 1997 EST From: Remembrance (#13681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Confusion and New Possibilities Remembrance stood there and watched Red Fang storm off the Helipad. She was still in shock from the almost simultaneous events. She had told Valentine of the other night when Red caught up with her and Solitude in the garage. How Red and laughed and told her Alexander wasn't his son. He said he believed the boy was hers and Chaos'. Red accused her of using him, just being a leach, wanting some man to protect and pay her way. She was stunned! Wondering what new trick he was up to now. The hardest part was telling Xan that Red didn't call him son anymore. Valentine stunned her when she asked if there was a chance that Chaos was Xan's father. She shook her head, not believing that. She had always believed that the child she carried was Red Fang's. Valentine wanted a DNA testing of her, Alexander and Red...to determine the paternity of her son. Then Red Fang appeared on the Helipad of the R/T Tower. Remembrance grabbed her son, holding him and backing away as Red once again called Alexander 'son'. He became angered at her reaction and stormed off. What new game was he playing now? She returned to her home with Alexander, Solitude was absent. She went to her room after talking with Xan about Red's words. She had no explaination for him and felt badly her son was being torn by the events. He had truely come to love Red Fang. After he went up to his room to sleep, she went and searched for anything that could be used in DNA testing. Searching her room, she found her brush and tangled with her white hair were many strands of Red's longer, darker hair. Sighing, she pulled them carefully from the brush, adding hers to a small packet and the hair she had cut from her son. "What will this prove? Red is Alexanders father. Has to be, even if Xan was born early... I had left Chaos." She sent the packet off with Valentine's assistant and closed the door. Now the wait. -------------------------- Message 25 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 10:35:22 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Good day/Bad day Red had been in a strange mood all day, from waking up to Thistle's strange and surprizing requests to waiting the endless hours for the trial. Thistle had honored him greatly and he would bare the responsiblity of her request to the grave. The simple bonding was a wonder and it touched Red's heart deeply. The previous day with Myst's extraction of justice and then today's surprizing form of justice weighed heavy on Red as he waited for the trial. Even though these two women had been the brunt of Red's horrible vengence the still held more honor and strength than Remembrance or Tempest ever had. Thistle and Myst were commited to honor, not only to themselves but to others. Myst had stood by her man, not knowing his fate or whether he would come back at all. She endured and retained her honor. Having recieved him back for better or worse. The young Thistle even though she was torn and alone, her own love abandining her for another held onto her beleifs and found new joy with her new compainion and friend the wolf Nenana. They learned from each other and gave new strength to one another though all Red had done. It was the wolf that had caused Red to see his ways. To feel what he was doing. The wolf had chosen over the bond between herself and Red to take the girl under protection. Red could not protest for he felt the warmth of the love that was there. No matter what happened Thistle would be Red's family from this day forward. Red spent the rest of the day thinking and mostly alone. He prepared for the trial and the lies to come, knowing full well he was not without quilt in the matter. His own rage had caused this to get to where it was. Finding his woman in the arms of another was to much. Her accusations. Rage drove men to make mistakes and Red vowed he would find someway to over come this problem. Even if he had to give up his sword to do it. Red had only been unfaithful to Remembrance once, it was soon after his capture to Rathe and Devon where he suffered greatly. Beaten and bloody and body shocked with a cattle prod Ylise had taken him. He could not resist and that was over quickly.. Vowing to himself he later took the woman freely to regain his honor. Using Ylise's as he would under the presumption of love. She was soon married and Red seldom talked to the woman after that save to argue with her and her high and mighty opinions. That was the only time Red had been unfaithful to Rem, but he wondered who all she's been with in his absents. Seeing the damage to the Oasis Keep, and hearing the storys of this Telq'uaoti sent shivers down Red's spine knowing he had been controled for some time by this evil presents.. And during all this time Rem was warm in Solitudes arms. One of Red's closest friends had told him that only once had Remembrance come out durning this time, she saw Red an he did not know her. But in a rage she left not caring if her mate lived or died. Rage! The heart had burned deeply and the mind was closed off. Yes, Red had pondered the possiblity that Alexander was the son of Chaos, Rem was a known witch of old and her crimes went unnoticed.. She had temped Red so long ago into the afair, then she left without notice when the woman Tempest arrived on the scene. Red had figured she'd gone back to Chaos or some other tyranical leader she could live off of for awhile. Then she returned, with a boy bearly 3 years old who aparently had been raised strict and with a hard hand. She claimed he was the son of Red Fang. The boy didn't play like normal children instead keeping to himself and minding himself around adults. A little soldier Red called him, but Red had not idea not knowing his own childhood to well. Yseults, Tadewi's and even Axelle's children were so much brighter and lively.. They played and did children things while Xan stood ridged agains some unknown force.. How had the witch raised him? These things Red pondered as the day went on. If Alexander was his son, he was his rightful heir and Red was honor bound to make sure the boy was raised properly. Red could not let his son be raised by a witch and a strange Soulmech pilot in a area of land known only as the fire zone.. Red had never even been there but knew it was forbidden land. Yes alot of wrong doings were going on and Red had caused alot of them. Never again would he allow a woman into his heart that would rip out his soul and taunt him with hope. Later that night he'd happened upon Rem and Xan on the helipad, Red smiled at the boy only to see him scooped up by his mother who outwardly showed signs of fear. Red had only wanted to return the boys sword to him. But seeing he was not welcome turned and walked away quietly. *no storming out :P* Red was under oath not to harm Rem or Soli and he would keep his honor bound word. Returning home he rested, the trail never happened and was postponed due to a malfuncioning mech or something like that. Smiling at Thistle and Nenana sleeping together Red crawled into bed and slept a dreamless night. -------------------------- Message 26 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 14:12:30 1997 EST From: Arwen (#15893) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: to clear a missunderstanding I've heard that there has been some confussion as to the relationship, my character, Arwen had with Red Fang. Truth be tod..told, there never was an ic relationship. What happened between ref..Red Fang and Arwen was ooc in nature, or at least, it si..is how I saw it. When I first connected and when I first met Red-Fang, there was some confusion on my part as to icness and oocness. OOC I care for the man who plays the roles of Red-Fang, Phantom Rose, Augustus, etc. IC there never was a relationship. Any questions, please ask me oocly. As for the situation that red is in, Arwen should not be mentionee d (mentioned) anyplace cor..concerning that issue. Because icly she didn't know Red at that time. -------------------------- Message 27 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 19:53:58 1997 EST From: Hoplias (#6036) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Madman A Madman walks the planet....all beware. -------------------------- Message 28 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 20:08:45 1997 EST From: Madman (#6036) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Madman Madman still walks....natural born killer... -------------------------- Message 29 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 20:10:47 1997 EST From: Yshar (#12217) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Yshar Yshar still walks....natural born hiker... -------------------------- Message 30 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 20:26:58 1997 EST From: Madman (#6036) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Madman... Madman has been angered... -------------------------- Message 31 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 20:30:11 1997 EST From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Previous posts This is NOT the *chat list. -------------------------- Message 32 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 21 23:38:46 1997 EST From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Druids (#12232) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A Creation. Alluvia fell exhausted next to her weary teacher. She had helped to create life, a new begining today. She had felt a force unlike anything else flow through her, using her and her small frame as a house and supply for it's energy. For Gaia's energy. It had amazed her when, before she had opened her eyes, she could see the new branch, growing strong on the tree of Eldorath. She had seen it grow in her mind, the magic flow through her, the life coarse through her viens. She had put every emotion she had into it's creation. Milamber had indeed taught her to create using the power of the word, the action. Her silent chant had slipped her into meditation, a blissful peace that surrounded her through entirety. This meditation had been warm to the body so pleasing to the mind, the feeling of life flowing through her. It steadily grew as she slipped farther and father in, the first unspoken chant growing louder and louder from her lips. A rainbow of colors had peirced from her palms, flowing out to the sky itself, blessing the tiny bud that had just been formed nearby. She could feel Gaia within her fully, suppourting her and guiding her as Milamber had spoken of. She was letting Alluvia succeed in this magic. She was letting her create. When she had felt herself slip, her mind grow weak, her teacher had pushed his own life into her, filling her with his own magics. His weariness had been caused by helping her, and as she came out of her trance, she had seen this. His stance so weak as his body fell to the ground, then her own, finnally recieving itself to rest after the shock and excitement of her own deed. Alluvia lay soundly nearby on the wooden floor, her power drained but her mind alive and flowing. It had truly been an enlightening night. She had truly learned something of the ways. He had been pleased. And she was at peace. Alluvia slept, beautiful dreams falling through her mind as she slumbered. IT was the most peaceful of all nights -- the most peaceful in a long while. -------------------------- Message 33 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Feb 22 07:19:40 1997 EST From: Lykaj (#6068) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Waiting. The sun was just coming up over the horizen. Colors swirled in the morning myst giving off a rainbow effect. Lykaj did not notice any of it. He sat at ledge of Mt. Uruken, unmoving for hours as his mind drifted. His thoughts on his quest. On the affect it would have on everyone and everything around him. In the distance he saw a tiny movement. He followed its path with squinted eyes as it approached the ledge. He soon realized it was a dragon. His body tensed as his hand moved towards his blade. Preparing for the worst. As the figure came closer he saw the decaying flesh on its body. The familier style of its beating wings. He relaxed. Nusratt landed with a soft thud, his bloody claws digging into the ledge for support. Nusratt spoke in his usual deep, monotoned voice, "You have been out here all night? What is wronge?" Lykaj shrugged his shoulders back and sighed, "Nothing. Just thinking." A soft growl comes from Nusratt's huge form, "You manlings think to much. It causes you trouble." Lykaj ignores Nusratt's jab and says, "Its just, well, the thing I intend to do..will affect everyone...everyone." He continues slowly, "There are those that I have no wish to harm. But will most likely end up that way." Nusratt swings his massive head to look Lykaj right in the face. He snorts loudly, "Do not go soft on me now." Nusratt continues, "This is unlike you. You have a mission in life. Fullfill it. That is all that is important. Lykaj nods slowly as he turns his head to look out into the morning sky once more, "Your right, your right." Nusratt turns sharply and heads into the cavern, "Compose your thoughts Lykaj. There is no turning back. Lykaj lets out a heavy sigh as he says to himself, "I know." He soon looses himself in deep thought again. -------------------------- Message 34 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Feb 22 17:07:16 1997 EST From: Avolent (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: pg-13ish. Avolent turned, smelling a warm musk of Jayren in her bed. She curled into his fur, still half asleep and entirely unknowing that it was he she had curled into. As she began to open her eyes, she blinked. She felt a shiver run down her body as she realized it was indeed Jayren in her bed, sleeping. She had not remembered coming here, merely collapsing in Jizo soil, after sending Lysander home. She looked at her hand, which had been cut ... it was healed now, the cut very miniscule, the blood washed away from the bite. She realized she lie naked in the bed and blinked again, but made no movement or sound. Avolent merely lie there, trying to peice things together. She did not wish to, but she realized it was necesary. HOw at one moment they could be friends, and even more, and then another how they could fight bitterly. She had not remembered him even being near her when she lie in the dirt, looking up at the stars. She thought it had been merely she and the stars she gazed upon. Thinking back, the days before when he had been in her bed, but for a much different reason, she sighed. After they had 'mated' as he called it, he had been so warm to her, so trusting finally. She thought perhaps her past could be looked over in his eyes. She had not planned for it to go this way but, something within had driven her on. He had done so much for her already, and she truly did feel indebted to him. Perhaps even more. Admiration, friendship....But, how could he attack her, and her bonded friend as such. It didn't make sense. IT was as if Jayren had thrown the nights prior aside, thrown the trust aside... the caring aside. He had been so cruel to her, making snide comments, unpleasant jokes. The words had hurt her more than anything. Words that normally would not. But the fact they were said by he who she cared for so much. Avolent quietly stood from the bed, silent and still unclothed. She bent down by the bed, stroking Lysander behind the ears gently. Her bonded friend had not turned against her as Jayren had. He had stayed and listened to her, left when she wished to be alone. She smiled down at the great cat, lying on the rug near the bed, still so silent, waking neither of the two up, for fear of the results. Avolent wend to her rucksack, taking an old book from within. The book Jayren had given her, after she told him of her past. She read over the words, over and over in her mind. None of this made sense to her, none of this was clear. Avolent removed the small quill pen she carried, removed the ink, and carefully began to scribe everything in her mind. She would find clarity in this somehow. -------------------------- Message 35 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Feb 23 04:33:57 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A sad day It was a uneventful day, until the little nymph girl came wandering by. Lord Lykaj wanted her is all Red knew. He teased and tormented the girl then lashed out quickly bringing her down, then scooping her body up he hauled his prize bak home as quickly as he could without thinking. But this wasn't the same, to much pain had past resently and alot of it by Red's own hand. The small girl lay bundled up in the corner of the cell, shivering with fear and not understanding. It took everything Red had to be cruel, but cruel he was, threatening and whiping her. But there was nothing to break and that filled Red's heart with a sorrow deeper than any he had known. This girl had suffered much already and she would suffer know more by Red's hand. He returned her things to her and grabbing a handful of crystals he handed them to her, I am sorry child. The girl only responded with confusion and tears. Red gently lead her out to her dragon friend. Letting her go back to her life as it may be. Then he returned into his home, ignoring the battle that raged outside between Yshar's dragon friend and Draz, mighty creature of Uruken and friend of Lord Khyber's. Nothing but sorrow filled Red as he sat at the table with his head buried in his hands, Darius Lee faithfully at his side. Red weighed all he had won and all he had truly lost and he felt poorer than he'd ever felt in his life. With the wolves he had family and security, but he had left that far behind and most of it was only memorys that came in the night. The women he had loved and shared things with, the boy that was said to be his. Red had destroyed it all. The young girl Thistle, now his ward after the cruelity he had shown her baffled Red the most. She had not been broke from showing compassion. She showed love and honor in the simplest ways. Red's heart broke at the pain he'd caused her and Myst. And what of the rider Yshar. He spoke of evil deeds make evil men. Yet he in his own way showed no honor towards Thistle and her pain. He had set himself up as judge. Red felt sad that he had tormented the man so but angry at the way the man refused to yield or his constant persecution of others. Honor did not see good or evil, it was a way of things. Driven with pride and dignity. Not laws of men. Nothing in history showed that men had the market on honor. In nature honor was the quick kill, honor was in the challange to mate. In the human world Red had found nothing but greif and pain. Laws enacted to protect those that were unwilling to defend themselves. Where was law when his parents were struck down in cold blood. No, Yshar had no honor.. his shield was that of law and law of the weak. Good and evil would continue, laws would not stop that. Red walked slowly into his room and colapsed into bed, he fell into a fitful sleep tears streaking his face. Tears for the sadness that was around him, the sadness he's brought on others. Sadness for what the world had become. -------------------------- Message 36 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Feb 23 09:02:03 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Notes placed in the R/T Lounge and Round Room, written in a flowing script: Acquired: One Avolent Interested parties should contact comm #18678 as soon as possible. The merchandise might not survive if left alone too long. Price stands at 5,000 crystals, up front, or best offer. Just a reminder not to screw with me. (The notes are signed with a teardrop written in red liquid, no doubt blood judging by the texture.) -------------------------- Message 37 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Feb 23 11:59:27 1997 EST From: Yggidrasil (#10625) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: DADDY??! PG-13 at worst ;) Yggy was sitting in the lounge with friends, Thistle's problems were getting worse again with Yshar. Didi walked in Yggy was so happy he lept to his feet and hugged her so hard he lifted her off the floor. He pointed out his grown beard, and Didi made a comment about something she was growing, after the hug it was apparent, Didi was pregnant! Yggy passed out on the floor, Skywalker and others rousing him.The total shock of the situation was too much he was well overwhelemed by knowing he wasn'r ready. He kept asking about the tea, Didi said she wouldn't have a baby if she drank her tea, but alas it happened. And he was happy and accepting after he calmed down, he was so happy but was he ready for this? About that time Yshar walked in asking for an ale and in one shot downing it with a grimace. His past was back to haunt him, he talked to Yshar calming his troubles, but nothing worked, as he said he had lost his soul and very little could be done, Yggy repeatedly tried to help Didi toke the story of her past love to try and make Yshar see all hope wasn't lost. Yshar was very stubborn for someone so depressed, things would be alright Realzing he was so exstatic and happy he'd not slept in 24hours Yggy move back to his cavern, Didi there beside him. He snuggled her happily, he was going to be a father, and he'd make his son strong and proud and bring him up in his heritage of the icelands, for now that would have to wait and sleep over took him. -------------------------- Message 38 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Feb 23 13:30:31 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A way to stay amused... (R for those weak of heart) Coreen knew that something was up the minute the words had left her mouth. Lykaj was clearly interested in her little capture of Avolent. She giggled to herself, thinking about the poor little bitch and her cat locked up in the wastes, slowly dying of starvation and dehydration. She had always wondered which came quicker, and would soon find out... So this was Uruken? she thought as she looked around herself, knowing already that she was in the den of wolves itself. Lykaj's mood shifted dangerously - he wanted Avolent released? She laughed at him. Why would she do that? The bitch was the easy way to show all those bastards that messed with her that she wasn't taking it lightly anymore. The deal started going awry, so Coreen opted for a little flight off of the ledge, which was barely cut short by that undead of Khyber's. Maybe they weren't as noble as she thought. Things faded to black for a bit, and she awoke relieved of her possessions, and later dragged out to an old forge. How intriguing. She hung from the ceiling by her hands as a nameless cobra recomb had her fun, applying a cat-o-nine-tails, burning pokers, brands, blades and other assorted instruments to her body. Coreen laughed all the while, enjoying the pain as if it were ecstasy, feeling each poker and brand as if it were a lover's caress. This recomb was pretty good, lots of variety, but certainly of low skill. Coreen yawned at the point where the recomb got annoyed and burned off first one arm, and then the other. When things returned from black, Coreen just smiled sweetly at her. Clearly inferior. The recomb really started to get annoyed now, and brought out more blades, slowly hacking her body down to size, stripping flesh from bone and showing it to Coreen, who looked at each piece with a bit of disinterest. Coreen sighed... the recomb was rather entertaining at first, but now she felt nothing...no pleasure, no pain.... She yawned again. A monotonous while later, the blackness came again, and she awoke floating in the Midrealm. She laughed. Definitely unskilled. She couldn't even keep her awake when she died! She would clearly have to teach the recomb a lesson. Returning home, Coreen was a bit perturbed to find most of her equipment gone. She frowned. She had liked that rapier. Oh well. She would get it back, then use it on the recomb to teach her a thing or two. Coreen caught a little cat nap and went out to check on her little prize again. -------------------------- Message 39 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Feb 23 17:52:03 1997 EST From: Avolent (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Frustrations Avolent grinned, her body righting itself after she awoke |This is Torture? She dare calls this action torture?? Pest... my she doesn't even know what torture is..| The deep swells and cuts of her skin were being aggrivated by the salt the elven mage Rathe had poured upon her. The air smelled rank of seared, burnt flesh. Her own. The cell was drab and cold, and even though she did not show it, she was indeed hurting. |Where is he? Where is Jayren? Or Lykaj... Or Strafe? | She frowned. All those who had come to her aid before seemed not to care, at least to her knowledge. Perhaps they did, she could tell nothing within the darkness. Avolent tried to dress her wounds, with abscence of a medikit or a bay, it was quite the challenge. She grumbled as she took a small sword out and began to pick the blood-flesh away from the open wound, knowing this would be better than letting it grow even more infected. She looked over at the side, to her bonded. Lysander slept still, still injured and hurt. |Oh the little Pest will pay for this. The Elf as well. And they will pay dearly. A true sight it will be when both of their heads are along the Coven walls. | Avolent smiled, an evil gleam in her eyes. That would please Axelle greatly no doubt, her discharged student's head tacked to the wall, that gaze of absoloute fear on his face as she would lop his head from.... Avolent winced, pulled from the daydream, as the sword peirced a bit farther than it should. She cursd softly, angered by her foul up. |YEs... they will pay... and I will smile when it is they who sit in this cold cell...| -------------------------- Message 40 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 24 01:45:21 1997 EST From: Remembrance (#13681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A Childs Departure She slowly read the report just delivered to her, then read it again. She turned and took her writing supplies from the shelf and sat at the table, taking out paper, pen and ink. She dipped the pen into the ink, then stared dumbly at the paper for long moments. Shaking from her reverie, she began to write, filling page after page in her delicate flowing script. Finally she looked up, eyes heavy with sadness as she stared out the window. Her decision was the correct one. She knew of no other alternative to keeping her son safe. She had done her best. What she had fervently hoped was what a small boy needed. But it had not worked out as planed. He needed a stable home. A family...a father and mother that didn't bicker or worse..try and kill one another! A sense of security and love, happiness. Remembrance sighed and put her pen down, taking up the filled pages and the copy of the report. She folded them carefully and stuffed them into an envelope. Sealing the envelope, she stared at it for a moment before placing it to the side. Taking another blank sheet, she began to write again. Un-noticed a drop of moisture fell to stain the heavy paper. With many hesitations, she finished and folded the single sheet, placing a small gold heart-shaped ring within the folded sheet, stuffed it into another envelope and with a quick flourish wrote a name across the front. She leaned that envelope against the lamp on the table and stood, turning to put things away. She took the original of the report and folded it slowly, putting it away safely.. Remembrance walked into her room and changed her clothing. Taking from the old armoire what she felt she would need while she was gone. Leaning down, she gently kissed the sleeping Solitude, whispered softly, "Til I return my love." She returned to the living area and looked around, making sure everything was straightened up. She looked at the carved rose on her mantle, but shook her head and turning took the thick envelope from the table, placing it in her bag. Alexander came down with his bag, the top barely closed over his books. He dropped it heavily to the floor and looked around the room before looking up at his mother, sadly. "We will be fine, Xan. You will like it there." She smiled bravely and took his hand in hers before taking his bag in her other. Reaching the door, she turned suddenly and dropped Alexander's hand, going quickly to the mantle, retrieving the rose and placing it in her bag carefully. She returned to the door and taking her son's hand, opened it and...walked out. She didn't look back, though the boy did, seeing a pale face and upraised hand at the window. He waved back and looked up at his mother curiously, remaining silent as he saw the tears on her face. -------------------------- Message 41 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 24 05:50:29 1997 EST From: Lykaj (#6068) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rated thumbs down. Lykaj would have spit at the demon but his mouth was full of blood and only a few teeth hung in there. He growled in pain as the demon put a flaming ember through his eye. The intesity of the attacks were worse now. He thought to himself, "How is it everyone else laughs at death and pain around here but me. Since one arm was totaly cut off. He searched for his missing eyeball with the other. "How can they stand this." He screamed. Then it came to him. In a flash. He had seen it in a movie. They all must have seen the same movie. The demons attacked him once again. Ripping apart his testicals with forked toothpicks. Lykaj just smirked. He pulled out a cigar and lit it. Puffing away. "oooo aaaa..that really hurts." He said sarcasticly. With his one good eye, he looked at the demons..who in his mind were only in there underware. That was the trick. Bring it on demons. I can handle your torture." He yelled. "I know the secret of life now. Nothing can hurt me again." The demons looked down at themselves rather confused. They too now saw the underware and fled in embaressment. Lykaj sat back and chuckled as he puffed his cigar and sewed his testicals back in with his rapier. ooc "Lucky for Lykaj this was only a dream. As he is really one of the few here that does feel pain and think torture..hurts. Because the "think of them in the underware trick" does not allways work.. Lyk, the only nonsuperbieng here. -------------------------- Message 42 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 24 15:02:30 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) The past few days had been calm and restful, for the most part... but as Etra reflected on Devon's words to her earlier, she realized the truth. She had been hiding up here on Morltih, just a bit, rarely venturing out as she had before. She used to be so sociable... a slight pang rippled through her at how she had tried to keep the truth to Thistle, and how Bobby had told her he missed her. It was just so much easier to wander lazily around the gardens, to socializ with the dragons and cats, and her few close friends. She was beginning to feel as if she were coming out of the darkness which had descended upon her.. floating in the herb scented water of the Morlith bath this morning, thinking about her harp for once instead of Rathe. Smelling the flowers and lying on the grass. Laughing with Tyzrath... she didn't understand the dragon speech yet (except her name.. she could hear that.. and a few other names, if she concentrated) but their expressive eyes and faces.. how Elshydrath showed so much care to her upon their first meeting. It was all glorious and wonderful... no elf required. She knew she still had Yggy and Thistle.. Yshar, and Myst.. Ylise.. Devon.. the more she concentrated on it, the more names came to the forefront. Names of those who cared for her, wanted the best for her... encouraged her dreams, and scolded her recently self-destructive behavior. it was, by no means, oing to be simple. But the sun was rising, she could feel it on her face and all around her. And the light felt magnificent... -------------------------- Message 43 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 24 17:16:06 1997 EST From: Avolent (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Freedom. Avolent lay down in her own bed for once. It had been a trying few days, stuck in a rank cage for what seemed like months. When her rescuers had come, she could hardly believe it. She had heard voices, then scraping, and finally, the faces of Yshar and Corwin, breaking free and into her holding cell. She smiled as she knew she was free, thanking those that had saved her a great many times. But her thoughts were not stuck on gratitude. Rather, they were quickly schemeing revenge. Coreen and Rathe, but especially Coreen |Little Pest| would pay. And she would pay dearly. When she left the location, oddly enough in Jizo |Was it not in the WAstes before?| She pressed the button on the craft, quickly hoping to stir a ship and catch her in her lounge resting spot. But, much to her pleasure, Coreen came to her. Exiting the ship, the girl did not run like a normal one would |but she was hardly normal... hardly sane for that matter |. She continued on in her mindless prattle, her never ending babble of words and tried, but failing put downs. Avolent merely smiled, withdrawing one of her many small knives from the hiding spots of her garb. |Ah, the poisoned one...| The poison was such a nervous toxin, as to react quickly , and if not treated kill so very painfully. She had no sooner taken the knife from her person than stabbed the little pest quickly, ending up finding a successful connection within her shoulder, near a principal artery. |It mattered not where it struck, it would do the same damage|. That it had. Coreen, ever smirking had quickly began to tremble.. to writhe and loose complete control of her body. Why, in Avolent's eyes, she had even shown fear. Bowing before her (more out of forced body spasm than actual respect) Coreen had stopped with most of her words, feeling the effects of the poison itself. This truly was bliss. It would have been so much more, had that inferior little rider Yggidrasil not been near. | I would think the Mount could send more intelligent Riders to be heros, if that was their purpose... at least more mature ones!| He had taken the girl's body away, thinking he possesed an antidote. |Foolish.. Foolish indeed| Of course Coreen had died, no doubt miserably, and more or less at the hands of that Rider. Enfuriated, the Rider came and accosted her for the serum to cure the problem, lest she "poison any one of his friends". Avolent merely laughed, heading for the lounge for a much needed drink. When she had ordered herself a nice ale, who would be near, but both the Rider and Coreen. Coreen had little to say, other than she was friends neither with Avolent or Yggidrasil. Which absoloutely made Yggidrasil's argument absurd. He grew angry, |Having no real cause to fight for of course | and threw punches instead of words. The whole bit was rather silly. He could claim nothign off of her, nothing more than she would give. Placebos were so easily made, so easily given to those not knowing of the ways. And he was one of them. His words eventually died, and Avolent finally enjoyed her drink. |I don't think I'll have them to worry about any longer... indeed...| Avolent smiled. She would plan her revenge for the other who hurt her.......Indeed this would be a fruitful venture. -------------------------- Message 44 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Feb 24 20:50:17 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wanted Posted on the wall in the R/T round room. Wanted: Remembrance For: The kidnapping of Alexander aka Xan. Reward: 3000 crystals Wanted: Solitude (Mech Pilot) For: Aiding in the kidnapping of Alexander aka Xan Reward: 1000 crystals They won't do me any good dead. Caution should be used when approaching these two villins. Special reward if you bring me the boy Alexander aka Xan. Signed Red Fang -------------------------- Message 45 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 26 21:55:24 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: carry on regardless.... Lyetra pulled the torn velvet gown of her mother's off, replacin it with her usual clothes. She fought back the urge to weep, to wish she'd stayed in the Midrealm. Her friens were good to her, of course... but the memory of what had happened in Kzin's horrible room chased her mind in circles. She had been bled to death, sacrificed to Kzin's demon lord so that he could regain part of himself. She had been given the choice of death by pleasure or by pain, and had chosen pain. It was more honorable, she would not succumb to her fear. As her mind slipped away, among the pain.. the fire in all of her nerves.. as the image of Syyrl, her dead love which she had conjured before her eyes to help herself, as Syyrl's image had bled and flickered into Rathe's Kzin had seen fit to remind her that she and raRathe were no longer together. Her mind had slipped away piece by peice, chased off by the pain... and had swum back to her at the strangest times - to quiet Avolent, to beg for death, to feel the blade enter her heart and drive the pain from hr for good. She had sped away, knowing she was speeding into Syyrl's arms for good... and had awoken in her tattered gown on the stone floor of Mount Morlith. The vacancy within her ached... she had seen Syyrl. But she knew that as Coreen smirked and Rathe stood by - stood by! letting Kzin knock her to the floor! - it was ended between her and Rathe for good. Should she break her vow to him.. it hardly seemed to matter anymore. She rubbed the spot on her chest which had been her death blow, she fought back the images of the demon before her, of Kzin straddling her with the blade in hand, of her own blood being poured into the fire. She fell into her bunk, weeping, praying for sleep and dreams of Syyrl.. and loss of the knowledge that her Elven Lord has forsaken her completely... OOC: Thanks Kzin and Rathe, Myst and Yshar for a nifty RP... the most exciting thing to happen to me in a while ;) -------------------------- Message 46 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 28 00:27:37 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: For the good of all. Sweat began to bead on Red's forehead as the cell door locked, he'd never imagined that they would bring him here. The place of all his fears was this world of water and confined spaces. He tried to control his breathing sensing Nenana's surge of panic, he concentrated on calming himself. This time the truth would be heard. He was quickly lost in meditation, Deer woman was there and she would let Moonheart know what was in Red's heart. Red held onto his medicine bag and concentrated. Thistle would take care of nenana and Khyber would take care of her. Breath! Surges of panic ripped Red as he tried to control himself. You fool, you surrender for nothing and will probably die. Someone is framing you.. But who? Blackness and the rolling hills of his childhood quickly raced back to him calming once again as Motagwa nuzzled him warmly of the dark den. -------------------------- Message 47 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 28 14:29:03 1997 EST From: Avolent (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: pretty gorry... R Avolent woke with a jarring bite of pain in her chest. She gasped, moaning loudly as her mind slipped back into the pains of conciousness. And pains they were. From her cheek down, she was scraped and cut -- and mauled with claw marks, her insides twisted and torn and sewn again. She could feel herself bleed, but she did not know where from. |How can I still be alive... why has this not killed me??| The very thought made her body shudder. The prior night's damages had taken their toll upon her dearly. She turned looking at Kzin, what was left of him. His body was still there, breathing slow and with a struggled air about it. He had wanted to end it all and had watched as he almost was successful. Avolent had been in this cave for 5 days now. For three, strapped by invisible bindings to the floor. She had found him, in the house she knew well, and banged on the door to be let in. She knew what he was doing, and she tried to prevent it all. He could not sacrifice her friend. Lyetra had done nothing wrong. When she had looked upon Kzin then, it was so cold, so angered. The fire had burned deep in his eyes when she explained her need to speak with him. She told him he needed to know the truth, and she would tell him if... When she awoke from her darkness, he had strapped her to a rack, the searing cords stretching her limbs apart. He was in the middle of Lyetra's sacrifice, and Avolent pleaded on. Kzin would not remember, Kzin did not remember |Why did I do this to him. Why had he turned this way??| Her pleads were left unanswered, or silenced with a whip crack. All the while she had watched her friend die by Kzin's hand, her blood seeping away, her mind going to delerium. The horrific sights of it all, the knowledge that Kzin was not himself. Something else had taken him in place. All of this made Avolent cry softly. When he was done with Lyetra, he took Avolent from the rack, lying her down on the same altar floor that Lyetra had once lied. Avolent shivered, pulling from her a small blue vial. The antidote for what she had given Kzin long before. |perhaps if he remembers... all of this will end| His hands cut deep into her, merely looking at the vial and mocking her. HE would not drink unless she offered him everything. And so she did, for his memory, she offered her all to him. When he drank of the vial, he merely laughed, his hand still touching her body, coarsing down her thigh and bringing with it little shocks of pain and pleasure. Something was wrong. He had not stopped his behavior, merely realized who she was. He told her there was no love within him. No pain, no happiness. Nothing inside. She would learn these walls well, he spoke as he lifted away from her form. She would be his from now on, he could not kill her, but he could keep her. Avolent cried out softly as Kzin bounded up the stone stairs, and away from her sight. Pt. 2 coming up. -------------------------- Message 48 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 28 17:45:04 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: ... Lyetra stood on the ledge over looking the valley, her hands gripped the cold stone guard with unusual force. The cold December winds tossed her red curls in the breeze, several strands gone whiter now from the stress of the past few weeks. She was here without a wrap, in her rather thin cotton blouse, but the cold didn't bother her as it should have. Her mind was lost in thought. She had been doing better since Yggidrasil forced her to stop hiding her pain, much of the haze had lifted from her eyes and her mind. The company of the dragons was helpin as well; seeing Thistle today had been a blessing. Bobby had made a gift to her of his bow and arrow - the boy wanted to see her, but Etra had told Yggy to hold off the visit until she was a bit more well. She didn't want to drift off in the presence of the lad, he was worried enough as it was. Despite Yggy's gift of the dreamcatcher, Etra's nap had been haunted by the images of before. How could she explain to her friends how she awoke several times a night, gasping for air, feeling as if she was on fire. She knew she was well, physically; she knew nothing was harming her. The memory of Kzin's actions was so strong - stronger that it might have been since she had allied it in her mind with the death of Rathe's love for her. The comforts of the dragons, of her friends, was not yet enough to battle the terrors that wracked her sleep. She began to sing to herself, her voice muffled even to her by the swirling wind. She was singing in Gaelic, a very old song about a love gone to sea. It was the song she had always sung to Syyrl... because the chorus fit him so well. 'You're my love, love, love, you're my loved one so fair... You're my dark sailor boy, and I long for your care.' Exccept that Syyrl had never truly been a sailor.. he was her dark haired love. She remembered his lilting Gaelic voice - he'd never truly learned English - and when she recalled his eyes, she shuddered. They were Rathe's eyes too... She had spoken earlier to Yggy of how she should have warded herself from the fay folk - from elven intruders. Ah hells... it didn't matter now. She flet hands, or the impression of hands, on her shoulder, and the scent of rue drifted up at her - perhaps from the garden, perhaps from the ghost at her side. Rue - the flower of mourning. Syyrl had been much closer lately, since she herself had died, hoping to stay with her long gone love. She murmured to the ghostly presence in Gaelic, 'My love, Yggy wants me to go down of the mountain with him.' 'Stay,' he said, 'Stay until the fear is gone from you. You are getting well.' The wind whipped her skirt and scarf, and the scent of the flowers was gone. She rubbed yet again at the spot on her chest, the invisible death blow, and headed back toward the caverns. yes.. she was getting well. Slowly. -------------------------- Message 49 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 03:59:15 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The songs of mystery.. the songs of visions. Akane looked out the window of his chambers in the spellsinger hall.. his thoughts drifted away to Jezebel.. a tear slightly rolled down his eye, but he forced himself to stop. He glanced at Spellsong propped against the corner, and lightly ran a finger down it.. blue magik flickering. he sighed.. drinking his herbal tea slowly. Appalene had been so kind to him.. her beautiful voice ringing off the walls as she sang.. he felt a deep pang of sorrow in his heart, and then it subsided.. leaving Akane to wonder what has happened.. how he had saved Appalene from the others who made fun of her..gave her clothing... and shelter.. he thought of her hand brushing across his face.. like a warm fire on a chilly night.. he turned and went to the door, locking it.. before crawling back into bed beside the sleeping form of Appalene.. he had vowed that he would not be dishonorable, and he held to his word.. oO (End) Oo -------------------------- Message 50 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 10:19:41 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Progress (R) Coreen made her way home, humming a happy little tune to herself. The day had been most productive. She took out the long section of red hair from her sack and admired it as the transport sped home. The little one had wanted to attack her today...she saw the anger and rage in her little eyes. Coreen chuckled. Thistle had even managed to stab her while she was distracted. She remembered seeing Thistle wake up to find Coreen sitting atop her, with a knee in her back, and she chuckled again. The little one had asked for death...oh, but it would not be so easy. It seemed the little one was rather vain, and would have rather lost her tongue than lost her hair.... She was most surprised when Coreen had severed off a good chunk of her long red locks as payment. To add to her luck, the fool Rider had come in, and Coreen enjoyed playing with him, using Thistle as a shield and a bargaining chip. She had to give up Thistle in the end, but it was worth it to see the look in Yshar's eyes. Anansi... The spiderboy had caught her, and whisked her away to his little web in N'Orleans.... She laughed as he broke a staff in two, and rammed a jagged end into her groin. She moaned with the pleasure. He even set the wood aflame. Coreen's lust was slowly peaking as the flame intensified, and as Anansi kept securing the shaft... She pulled him closer, raking her nails down his body, purring like a kitten. She told him how she wanted the real thing...and was met with a fist to the stomach. The heat left her, but her body's arousal remained. Anansi tossed her outside, his revenge 'complete.' He would not finish what he had started... HE WILL PAY!! Coreen thought, and voiced aloud. How DARE he taunt her so! Her blood boiled as her body remained aroused, and wanting... She had no remedy for it, and grumbled her way to the transport. He thought her a plaything, did he? Well, she would have to ponder her 'revenge'...repay the taunter in like fashion. Nobody played around with her and got away with it...nobody. -------------------------- Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 16:07:26 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 51 - 100 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 51 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 12:48:02 1997 EST From: Phantom-Rose (#6337) To: *Storylines (#5236) Frap had worked long hours reading up on his spells, researching the great magus's work though the ages and debating his therorys with Charlie. He finally had it. Soon as he had a bit of a nap, he would seek out the girl Yara and complete the spell casting on her. She would beable to find a normal life. OOC:> This evening I hope when she comes on a major spell casting will be done. If you want to come and watch your welcome. Please don't interfer as this is concented between Yara and myself and alot of hard work has gone into it. People that I'd like to see there are Yjezra or at least someone from the mount to represent her. And any magus who wishes to see my handy work. I ain't sure of a proper time yet, but we are hoping this evening. Frap aka Phantom Rose. -------------------------- Message 52 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 14:40:03 1997 EST From: Appalene (#10655) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Collective Song As sung by Appalene in her bedchambers: Rujial, beautiful land, raised me up to be free, and so I venture quite aways searching for the key. The land I have come to, is most unkind and black, but never will the question come, if I wish to come back. Their greetings here were shaken out, my ways they found most strange, Many grew so angered still, except the Singer Akane. The firey hate of one, has left his mark on me, Since I grew this sight I hold, I clearly now do see. His hate had held me captive, his words held like the knife, and long did he linger, before depriving me of life. One man, whom I came to, the Seer he was called, his body cold, his eyes had closed, to death I thought he had falled. My voice to him, I tried to bring, to wake him from his sleep, And as I sang, a soft mist, came to me, filled me deep. The Seer's sight had left him once, and entered in my soul, I did not know what to say, I frightened at the whole. The Seer, blind now lashed at me with angered tounge and nail, I begged to him, and spoke to him, but they only heard his wail. I have the visions, the Seer saw, so peculiar to my mind, The pictures that envelop me, lives present, future and behind. I fear at what this presence brings, I must return it safe, My eyes are frightened by what they see, no way to seperate. Through all this mystery, confusion pain and joy, I found one who comforts me, the calming singer boy. His heart is strong, his mind is quick, and his soul is pure and true, I understand his heartache, as if I feel it too. Soon will be the end of worry, my heart shall find it's place. The reckless confusion, the unkowing truth, will soon fade in haste. And as I continue on in days, my life shall grow complete. perhaps this is the place I search for... Perhaps this is the key I seek. ooc- Sorry for the bit o confusion at some lines. Gah.. That was a difficult post to write;) never written in song before. -------------------------- Message 53 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 14:54:35 1997 EST From: Ylise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Departure Ylise smiled as they flew overhead, the ground far below. She had decided not to take Thyvoras'rath on their trip, for Africa was a long way. Nigel had come back, after being gone so long, and he needed to fly back home. So she had opted to fly back with him, even in her latest stage of pregnancy. She could not bear to be alone from her husband again. It would be a long voyage, but she had faith that things would go well. Her husband, resting next to her in the seat comforted her. The break was nesecary, and she would enjoy it. ooc-The reason for this? Nigel is still w/o net access. I don't really play this char atm, so, we shipped em off to Africa, (nigel's home continent, finger him for the country itself, I forget;) ). Nigel should be getting a puter and net access soon, like within a few weeks ... Till then, happy playing and such. This will just make a bit of abscence more clear:) Ylise -------------------------- Message 54 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 17:24:46 1997 EST From: Shimmer (#18718) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: the journey. Shimmer sat in his bunk in the dormitory on Mount Morlith, absentmindedly fiddling with a few strange rocks he found on the ledge.. they were beautiful in color, but with a dull finish.. all the while on the mount, his thoughts crept back to what happened.. Kzin walking in.. and attacking Yggidrasil and the others.. Shimmer himself barely lifting the unconcious Yggy over his shoulder. he then fled deep into the wastes, narrowly reviving yggy.. who then led them to a bridge, in which his proud Dragonfriend stood, offering a forelimb to yggy, who hastily mounted. yggy then did the nicest thing, he invited him to stay on morlith.. as to seek a refuge. but little did he know it was more than a refuge.. but a sanctuary.. he slept late the next morning, then hopping off the bunk and out to the garden area.. seeing The one known as Yshar and an unfamiliar female.. who introduced herself as Lyetra. he smiled and nodded to them both, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything.. then.. they chatted, they talked. about Yggy, about Kzin, which made lyetra obviously upset.. yshar was fidgeting with his armor, so I decided I was making them nervous. so he said his adeu, and took off, overhearing the voice of Lyetra, saying she didn't mean to hurt him.. he then sighed, looking down on a small picture of his wife and kids over in Europe.. and hoped they would be safe.. he then went out again later, meeting another friendly dragon, and then getting "snotted" by Yshar's dragonfriend... such a kidder he was.. but the labcoat was nearly ruined.. he would call europe overseas maybe.. with the help of some decent satelitte equipment. he then came back into the dorm, and flopped down on the bunk, closing his eyes, and clasping the pendant with the picture tightly. -------------------------- Message 55 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 22:41:16 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Just a bad day... Thistle lay looking up at the ceiling. Thinking back over the events of the other day. It had started out wonderfully with Red-Fang only being held to house arrest, and Skywalker agreeing to be a judge at the trial. Then it started to turn. Thistle snuggled up to nenana, wrapping herself around the red wolf, enjoying her warmth. Closing her eyes she thought back to Rathe's words of her cowering to Red-Fang now. She thought of how Coreen had came in and with Rathe's words had decided to try to scare her, threatening to cut out her tongue. Things seemed to happen so fast, her dagger heating in her hands while she thrust at COreen, getting her nicely in the stomach. Then she was down, unconcious, waking to COreen on her.Thistle couldnt believe the pain, calling coreen a coward in hopes of angering her.. in hopes of making COreen kill her. Instead she had cut off most of Thistle's hair, stuffing it into her bag. SHe seemed very pleased with this (for some strange reason COreen was happy to have her hair...). COreen was never very normal. And Rathe not helping COreen for fear of Red.. and he called her a coward. She thought of the relief she felt at seeing Yshar, not believing that he was helping her.. after everything that had happened between them. Thistle frowned thinking at how she had asked Yshar to kill her.. in that she was a coward, she had had to much pain to care anymore. She wondered why she went out after that... nothing good came of it, Nenana attacking COreen, Stryfe shooting nenana, that woman and then smoke accusing her of wanting Skywalker. Who the hell were they... and what the hell were they thinking. Thistle had enough trouble lately without bringing Sky into it. If Darci was worried...then maybe she should talk to Sky,..or didnt she trust him?.. Thistle shook her head, thinking of happier things, thoughts of 'treading on dangerous ground". -------------------------- Message 56 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 1 23:18:36 1997 EST From: Phantom-Rose (#6337) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Yara Frap found Yara in the lounge, huddled and scared. She showed signs of abuse which Frap found disturbing. He had his spell ready so he summoned the girl forth. It took exstensive concentration and if it wasn't for the aid from the great magus's the spell would not of been possible. Yara's body and mind where taken back, to a time before she was tortured or abused. By doing this she would be seperated from that pain and be allowed to mature normally. Two obsticals stood in Fraps way, but he handled them best he could. He knew that if he cast the spell with Yara's soulbond intack it would be destroyed. So with a special crystal and a spell he'd learned from the great Kynwal he transfered the bond carefully into the small crystal, letting its life force preserve the bond until it could be returned. The dragon would be confused but wouldn't suffer from this. The bond was merely shielded and suspened from the two allowing the other spell to do its work. Then the girl was with child, so that had to be handled with care, wrapping the fetus in a weave of magic would keep it safe from the effects of the spell. Frap knew this may have later side effects. The baby would likely have magical abilitys from a early age. He would keep an eye on it and if it showed the signs would aid in its up bringing. With those two things taken care of he cast.. To the amazement of all in the room Yara's body was wrapped in the magic of the spell and transformed before her eyes. She saw all that was done to her. She was seperated from it though letting the pain and fear go from her. She would have a chance and letting her free will guild her actions. When the spell was done she fell into a deep sleep, Frap revived her and took her to Yshar who was waiting and watching. He handed over the small pouch containing the crystals. Yara's apparent age was 12 years old. Her hair long and flowing as it did in her youth. Frap left the charlie to keep an eye on the girl and left back to his place, he returned seeing though charlie that things hand turned wrong, but exaustion took him and he fell into a deep sleep. Frap. OOC> IF ya have any questions please page me about it. -------------------------- Message 57 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 2 13:43:37 1997 EST From: Brinn (#12457) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A Disturbance in the Veil of Magic Brinn had felt the Disruption of the Veil of magic. She wandered around the Mount, entering the Sarkus to find Tyrkislok, dazed and silent, looking displaced. Sinking to the mosaic circle in the center of the Sarkus, she began meditating, reaching out to touch the Veil, to follow the threads of magic. A crystal pulsed, part of the souls of a Dragon and a Rider were torn asunder. Two were held within the small crystal and two were held apart. She followed the threads of the crystal from the hands of an Adept to those of a Rider to.. The threads were lost, she couldn't follow. Seeking outward, she stayed, seeking to find while time passed and she was finally brought back to the present with a voice from the ledge calling out for her mother. Standing, she walked from the Sarkus to find Yshar with a stranger, one who tasted of magic and...the crystal! This mage had held the crystal. Asking Yshar to bring the stranger to the Sarkus, she ignored the angry voices and asked the mage where the crystal was. He would not answer, so she called the power of the Sarkus around her, shaping threads of magic to find that which she searched. There! She joined with the power of the Sarkus and pulled the pouch containing the crystal to her. 'Strange that the crystal would be there, something of the living in a place of the dead.' was her thought. She surrounded the crystal and pouch in the magic of the Sarkus, locking it to the Sarkus, wrapping it in its' protection. Drained from her workings, she sank to the circle once more, falling into a deep meditation, the small pouch with the crystal in her hands, her thoughts on her friends, the Dragon and young Rider. -------------------------- Message 58 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 2 23:21:36 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Lyetra sat cross-legged on her cot in the Mount Morlith dormitory, turning Yggidrasil's 'dreamcatcher' over in her hands. She was idly examining it while the thoughts ran through her head. Perhaps the item *was* working... she had been sleeping better lately. Or maybe the memories were simply fading faster than she had thought they would. Despite YGgy's words to her several days ago, and despite what Etra knew she should do to get well and recover from all of this, she had actually become quite deft at hiding the roaring emptiness inside of her. Every now and then, it escaped her - she slipped into her dazed state, consumed by memory, but she was usually pretty good at recovering herself. She'd had a shock this morning as she dressed, realizing that Kzin's death blow had indeed left a scar. She searched her memory of that wretched evening - trying to remember if at all she had, perhaps, asked the Eagle for a reminder? It mattered not, the mark was there; an eerie lavendar against her pale skin. Sometimes, in the night, it throbbed a little - so that she wouldn't forget what she had left and lost. Then there was the matter of Yshar. She had long been fond of Tyzrath, and then, almost suddenly, Yggy was suggesting she seek comfort in Yshar. Yshar had asked permission to woo her - and though she told him she could never promise love., she had allowed him. He did make her smile, and she was surely more fond of him than an ordinary friend; but there was her worry over Thistle, and her vow to Rathe. Of course, if anyone wanted to discuss broken vows with her, perhaps they should seek the Elven Mage first... he seemed to know a bit more than she did. Still, the effort of hiding her sorrow and emptiness was tiring to her. She already was lacking sleep, and Yggy had commented this evening on how she looked tired. She didn't want to be a burden to her friends... she wanted to be truly happy at Yshar's fondness of her. But something huge had been taken from her several nights ago - and she was frightfully unsure of what was left of her. The only time she felt as if she had sure footing was in the company of a dragon. People - men especially - and the armaments of war were more than memories of torture to her... they were memories of every love she'd lost. -------------------------- Message 59 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 2 23:35:52 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A close call. Squatted in the R/T Garage, cowled and cloaked, Rathe waited. His goal was simple, to release Coreen from Red's keep in the waste--He was pretty sure this was where he would find her--and maybe do a little damage to the fortress in question in the process.. But first, he needed something quite simple.. A key. Red's keep was quite well secured, and Rathe knew his chances of getting into it without a key were slim to none.. But where to get such a thing? and without anyone knowing he was at fault? He smiled to himself. Thistle. Being quite friendly with the quite insane 'king of the wastes', Thistle would surely have a key.. He need only ambush her to aquire it.. Thats why he was here now. Masked by an odor cantrip to confuse the wolf, cloaked to confuse the girl, he waited for his chance. It came quite quickly, and the girl was taken down with naught but a few blows, the wolf in but one. He sacked Thistle's posessions, taking everything with so much as a little value, as well as the two keys he found in her backpack.. It would look like a common robery. Rathe snickered to himself, rising, just as the dragonknight, Khyber arrived.. Khyber! If he was taken down, everything would be ruined! Rathe fled quickly into the wastes, missing the bit of cloth nenana had torn from his cloak.. Only when the transport he had taken had already reached Drach'nal, did he notice his error.. He cursed profusely. Hopefully, they would not give the piece of fabric to nenana.. If the wolf could sniff him out, even if he had already rescued Coreen by then, things -could- get messy.. He shrugged, tossing the items he had taken into the bushes, and entering spellsinger hall.. "At least Coreen will be rescued," he mused aloud.. And immediately wondered why the hell he was even bothering with this. -------------------------- Message 60 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 3 07:46:30 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: An interesting development (R) Coreen snored happily in her little cell, snored so happily that she eventually woke herself up. She chuckled upon realizing this. The stupid ward that kept her in there also kept her from using and all types of magic... which meant that she was poorly entertained. She managed to find a rock and scrape little designs into the floor - a little happy face to which she added horns and a goatee. She smiled. Then the door opened and Red came down, leading Thistle ahead of him. Coreen grinned even more. This was all in revenge for what she had done to Thistle... The little girl still had the ragged cut of hair, and was here no doubt to enjoy her pains. Red had already has some fun with her - he had shaved her groin with a dagger, leaving numerous cuts which did nothing but turn her on...and her eyebrows were also missing. But the rack felt good, she thought. She tried to explain to Red how she had only acted in self-defense, but he was buying none of it. He handed the dagger to Thistle, whoc preceeded to shave of the rest of her hair, with unfeeling eyes. So, the little one had grown more than just a backbone. Coreen watched as patch after patch of her hair tumbled down to the floor. She hummed a little tune, ignoring Red when he demanded that she return Thistle's hair. Thistle tucked Coreen's hair into her backpack, mentioning some mage named Moonheart. Coreen winced internally. Should her hair be given to a mage, there would be stalemate - her gains with Thistle's hair would be lost...unless she could get it to Mistress Axelle before they reached this Moonheart. She was returned to her cell, Red tired for the day. She rubbed her bald head, silently wishing for a mirror. She felt one spot where hair remained, and grinned. She must look rather silly. She didn't really care about the hair...it could be grown back, or replaced magically, the only thing that bothered her was that it had fallen into mage hands. Coreen yawned, and quickly fell asleep from lack of something better to do. -------------------------- Message 61 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 3 08:58:26 1997 EST From: Phantom-Rose (#6337) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A well needed rest Frap had slept for several days, the spell with Yara had taken alot out of him. He woke refreshed and headed out to the R/T building, later that day he would check on the girl. Frap -------------------------- Message 62 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 3 16:06:58 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The most perfect mate Of all the things in Red's life that he'd done and experienced nothing compared to his feelings for Thistle. When she hurt he felt her pain, when she was happy he over flowed with joy. Watching her do the simplest things filled him with wonder and joy. He'd found the mate his heart had been seeking. No other woman could compare to her warmth and grace, her independance and free spirit. She was both giving and compassionate. He loved her very deeply. All that had happened and seeing the magus and his wife Mistress Axelle together filled Red's mind with the question, then before he knew it he had preposed to Thistle asking her to be his mate. His heart over flowed as she answered him saying she would. A Scottish wedding with a proper chieftan was needed but Red was happy to do anything for Thistle. He felt weak in the knees suddenly it was as if he'd just conquerd some powerful force. Arrangements had to be made but he would make sure it was a wedding to remember for his beloved Thistle. -------------------------- Message 63 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 3 20:55:50 1997 EST From: Avolent (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The end of a long road Avolent fell asleep, for a long rest. Her body had been exerted beyond all that it could, and she would not rouse for some time. She had, with friends |friends? To Avolent?| conquered, and destroyed the beast that lurked within her love Kzin. It mattered not if he loved her. She could not end her passions so easily. With the help of Corwin, Traxsu and most of all Juliet, they had challenged and finally destroyed the demon. They had taken a risky choice, to play at his own game, to destroy him in his own realm. The demon had tried a trick, stepping away from the body as desired, but leaving the body of Kzin, still under his masterful control. It had struck again at her, immedately debilitating her. She lied again with old injuries renewed, her life seeping away, merely watching the others, trying to lead with her words. The others had come through. They tore apart the evil vile |hated| demon, destroying it's lifesource, and finally the power it held over Kzin, the fires of it's existence slowly extingusing as well. It had taken all she had, and all of Kzin's power to destroy this creation, his powers so strong. But they had done it, all of them. She did not see the end, did not hear them drop the stone over the lower portion of Kzin's domicle. She had fallen into sleep, being woken only for an instant with Kzin's warm magic |His warmth... so inviting...| She spoke with him, his own body weary.. the others gone, searching for solace, for peace away from the horrible nightmare that had just faced them. Avolent could do little, her mind slipping into a peaceful sleep. A sleep that would not be roused for some time. ooc- basically, I need a break.. need to read and get shit sorted in school. it's been fun, but I gonna kick out for about a week.. may come back to check mail etc. Dunno... I'm really worn and life's bein a shit. Seeya all.. Been fun:) She's in a coma btw... or coma like state.. battling those demons takes a lot outta a girl. thanks to those that participated.. twas fun:)))) -------------------------- Message 64 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 3 21:04:06 1997 EST From: Appalene (#10655) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Love? Hope? Promise? Whoknows. {written on a small manuscript paper} I could not help the feelings I felt for him.. It was amazing.. I had found another like me! Another spellsinger. His teacher, Robitham, had been much talked of by the Elders, and though his spells were slightly different, I could see his tied roots, those spells taught by the Elders long ago. It was impossible for me to not wish to touch him, to make sure it was true, to pinch myself... WAs this real? Was this love? It is too soon, it must be too soon. But... *sigh* I cannot help myself. I could not help myself from kissing him yesterday, in the loft high above, could not help myself from touching his baby-soft cheek, feeling his warm heartbeat in his chest, the constant thumps increasing. Did he feel for me the same way? I cannot tell. He did not refuse the kiss.. but did he enjoy it? How I would love to tell him of the sights I have seen, since the sight I have been given. I must show him of some of the things. I had to be knowledgable, telling him that we were alike in the art of the song, unable to hide the magick within for much longer. Perhaps the Elders will be distressed that I let my emotions take precident. Perhaps they will wonder. But how could I not? His voice led me to him... -------------------------- Message 65 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 4 00:42:20 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Joyous are the days.. Akane sat up in his bed, a cold sweat forming on his brow. all he could think of was Jezebel, and Robitham.. how he turned maniacal, twisted... Akane couldn't stop him.. the pain.. the suffering.. he looked over and down, seeing the sleeping form or Appalene.. he didn't know if he had did anything or what.. his mind was clouded.. his soul was seemingly tore apart. he breathed heavily, maintaining the japanese breathing techniques robitham had showed him.. he was postive he had not done no dishonor to Appalene, and hopped out of bed, wincing slightly as his back ached, "perhaps I should see Frap about this pain." the thought, and then nodded to himself, he would check with him later. He then concentrated, letting his mind open.. and: It was the day before.. the air was calm and clean. Appalene and Akane walked down through drach'nal, she was walking mighty close to him.. Akane didn't really know what was going on.. so he continued..they walked into the area pub, and got a drink and managed to get some food from the waiter. they both ate hungrily.. They then went to yggy's smithy shop. when Akane realized how special ygg's job was.. how he saw the fine tools and such. Appalene huddled closer to Akane, saying she was cold.. it indeed was a cold day.. and then appalene started to lead Akane.. into the forest, near a nice loft.. they climbed up the hay loft, and sat down.. she began to lay her head on his chest, and hum a soft tune.. she asked him to sing as well, and together.. they combined a slight making a soft, warm breeze.. they relaxed.. Akane resting his head on the hay.. they talked, and soon.. they began to touch each others faces.. Akane was slightly surprised, and confused.. and then, Appalene slowly made her way over to his face, and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.. which Akane didn't know what to say or do.. he was still confused, jezebel and himself flashing through his mind.. he knew jezebel was dead, but his mind would not accept it.. until Appalene kissed him.. he finally accepted her death, with a joyfulness to it.. for she was safe, and the eagle a kind guardian.. [Back in present] Akane sat around, dazed slightly. the newest Spellsinger from Europe.. which was definantely strange, was lying, looking peaceful. "perhaps like she said.. mayhaps we will learn the song from each other.. and love." -------------------------- Message 66 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 4 00:42:55 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A (hopefully) successful rescue. Peering around the corner of the large building, Rathe watched the Slayer unit patrol the fields and building of Red Fang's Keep. Rathe smiled, eyes glittering in the dark, as he concentrated on a point in the wastes. Hand outstreched, he muttered a few words in the arcane tongue. A faint heat signature sprang into existance about a quarter-mile north of the keep. He gestured, and caused a large clattering sound, and the voice of a man cursing loudly... The cyborg baught it, and headed northwards. Waiting only a few moments, Rathe stood from his hiding place, letting the shield of cold surrounding him drop. Knowing he had but a few moments before the cyborg returned, Rathe moved quickly, sliding the key he had aquired from Thistle into the lock, turning it slowly.. He hoped he was right in his assumption that this key would function..-- *click* He smiled, opening the door slightly, muffling the hinges with another quick spell as to assure silence. After only a little searching, he found Coreen, asleep in the small cell. Rathe placed two fingers to Coreen's forehead, mumbling under his breath momentarily, and a soft blue glow enveloped her, ensuring she would not awake. Rathe slung her over his shoulders, and made his way out, into the waste just as the cyborg was returning.. Perfect timing, he thought, grinning, and began to walk in the direction of Real/Time.. -------------------------- Message 67 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 4 01:49:08 1997 EST From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rated BLAH Kzin walked slowly back into the house in Jizo, punching the door-code with weak fingers, almost bloodless. He finally managed to get the door to open, then walked inside, kindling a soft light at the bed and sitting on it's edge, looking down into his cupped palms. The two deep sword-cuts where there, from where he had grasped Smoke's weapons and held them...each bled still, but not much, they were slowly clotting. He stared there for a long, long while, unable to tear his gaze from the gashes. THen, wrapping them in soft cloth, he took up his staff and, with one glance at Avolent's sleeping, almost coma-like state, walked to the sealed off stairwa. Removing the large plug of stone with a pulley and winch system, he stumbled down the stairs in complete darkness, trusting memory, afraid to light even a mage-glow for fear of the presences that might still linger. Standing in the center of the room, he took the needed items out of his bag; a silken rope, a symbol of the holy balance, a large piece of incense and a incense burner, and, finally, a bottle filled with crushed and dried herbs. Chanting softly, he circled the wall of the room with the rope, pinning it there with the candle-wax from the alcoves. Then, walking to the center again, he set the incense burner upon the blood altar and lit it with a spark of heat from his palm. Letting the smoke waft up and fill the room, he began to speak/chant the words of his spell, sprinkling the crushed herbs across the floor of the room, shivering in the cold air. Finishing this, and placing the symbol of the holy balance upon the stone covering what was once the fire-pit, he unslung the large ROUS-skin bag from his shoulder and poured it's contents across the room, summong more seawater to fill it as needs be. Fianly the room was filleed up to ankle depth with sea-water, in which floated crushed spices. The incense burned swiftly, soon leaving only a coal and the dusky room as remnants of it's presence. The chanting filled the stone chamber, and so began the ceremony of re-consecration and cleansing. Calling upon powers that had nothng to do with blood and pain, and everything to do with cleansing and holiness, he moved through the room, placing symbols in blue chalk upon all the walls and a large amount of them on the altar, and the fire-pit's cover-stone Long into the evening and night he worked, and, finally, once he had finished and the room was filled with the sweet scent of the herbs and incense, the water draining away into thin air, he smile with satisfactoin and turned, mounting the stairs again, and walked out into his house, trails of smoke wafting after him. He sat down upon the bed, and, summoning his wits for a final time, cast himself into a deep sleep, remembering all that had happened that evening, and those words from Smok'es lips, so hoped and feared. -------------------------- Message 68 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 4 11:30:16 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Prev post Well, seems a few tiny errors ;) Cell was warded, thus I wouldn't have been able to use magic to keep her asleep, we can assume I bapped her upside the head, injected her with some concoction, ect., in lieu of a sleep spell. As for the Slayer part, he apparently stays in the house @ all times, but A noise outside woulda still worked to draw it away, I s'pose.. (Bumbling along) --Rathe -------------------------- Message 69 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 4 22:17:54 1997 EST From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Thoughts... Khyber relaxed in a chair in the main chamber of Red's keep, his brows furrowed.. he could not help thinking of things going on recently.. Drazathak boasting of his battles with who he called "The blue hatchling." and now.. he leaned forward, supporting himself with his elbows on the table. he thought of Aislyn.. he thought of when the Riders of Morlith came in.. his fists clenched as The dragonmistress came in, he remembered quite well there little conversation in the keep with Red, which only made him angrier.. but Lord Stryfe told him to calm himself, and he wrapped his arms around Aislyn.. until Yggidrasil spotted her, and gave her a hug. Khyber was about to slam Foe into The fool rider's chest for doing such.. but he stopped.. he wondered why.. he could've easily taught him manners.. but it seemed the right thing to do at the present. Then, on top of that, they asked if Aislyn wished to go on the mount.. the one place he could not go and be with her.. his anger grew, until she asked him if she could.. Khyber sighed to himself, and told Aislyn she could go where she wished.. it is her path, and that she chooses which way to go.. and hugged her gently, and Aislyn replied that maybe she would tommorrow, and went to leave, asking Khyber to join her. he followed, and led her safely to the keep, tucking her in, and kissing her goodnight. heading back to the lounge. Suddently, he snapped out of the daydream, realizing he had carved a groove into Red's table. he frowned, "I must let Aislyn do what she wishes.. but I don't trust Morlith.. if anything should happen to her..." he shook his head throwing that thought away, he sighed, and continued leaning in his chair, wondering where Red and Thistle were most of the time.. but he probably knew, and smiled.. they made a great couple, and he sighed again.. thinking again of Aislyn, of them bathing.. making love afterwards.. he smiled.. thinking of things to come, and things to work on.. the keep would be protected, as would Thistle and Red.. and then he laughed, "man..after all this time.. I, Khyber Rllwyd, will have to wear a kilt.." he still chuckled, "wonder how aislyn will react to me with it on." -------------------------- Message 70 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 5 16:51:20 1997 EST From: Meoni (#9687) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Human Pet. Meoni padded quietly down the corridors of Mt. Uruken, doing her usual explorations and spying. This time her wanderings brought her to the ledge, where the great Honored Ones stood sentry against any invaders. She saw Drazathak, Cyhyraeth, Ellyw, and Nusratt at their posts, sentient and alive, though appearing as nothing more then a dragon graveyard to any not aware of their true nature. There was one, however, that she did not recognize at all... It came to life immediatly and tilted its head as it studied her. Meoni stared in complete solicitude before the hulking mass of bones. It spoke and startled her, "What's your name, human?" She found herself stammering as she replied. It studied her awhile longer, those eyes glowing like heat lamps. Finally it spoke again, "You'll do, human. My little pet. I'll have vast fun with you." Meoni nearly wept, at long last she was accepted... somewhere. -------------------------- Message 71 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 5 17:04:56 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wedding Banns *Posting Of the Banns* ****************************************** Jamie Loaghair Fraser will marry Red-Fang on Jan 28, 2638 and 7 p.m. (Tues March 11) Any person with reasons why this wedding should not take place, please contact Red or Thistle. ****************************************** OOC : Originally a Catholic tradition that the Scots and other Europeans followed. The banns were read on 3 consecutive Sundays in the church before the day of the wedding. Asking if anyone has a problem with the wedding was not issued forth in the banns, but with the reading of them.. im sure a few engagements were broken. -------------------------- Message 72 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 5 17:10:01 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: ACK! OOC: the banns were posted in the lounge, sorry.. and please assume that they will be posted another two times there before the wedding. Thanks. -------------------------- Message 73 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 5 23:06:33 1997 EST From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Refreshing Change and Newfound Love. Aisy woke suddenly, disoriented. The room that surrounded her was a dormitory and not the guest room out at Red-Fang's Oasis. She blinked her eyes a few times before recognition hit her. She was on Mount Morlith visiting...anxiously awaiting the hatching. Rising up out of the bunk, she smiled at the indented pillow next to hers. Khyber had accompanied her to the Mount, despite his discomfort around the Riders and dragons. What a brave, caring and giving man was he. Her Knight! It was his love for her that gave him the will to be here, come here. And this only served to make her love him more. The moment he had sheathed his weapon and put it in his bag - offering peace to Yjezra, Yshar, and her friend Yggidrasil, her respect for him had increased tenfold. Aisy thought of the bright lemon drop egg that had caught her eye the night before and quickly dressed to go out to the Hatchery and see it. She wondered where Khyber was and assumed he was with his Lord, working. They had made love the night before, giggling softly in the dark...hoping that no one would wander in. Yjezra said that they were both welcome in peace to stay and visit. Aisy smiled happily. She bounded out of the dorm then, rubbing her own tummy and thinking of Lyrzrath. Eggs. Nurture. She wondered what kind of mother figure she would be...to a baby dragon, and to Khyber's child. Perhaps she would learn from Lyrzrath. -------------------------- Message 74 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 6 02:46:46 1997 EST From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: There is a rat between us. Run, it was the only thing that flashed through her mind when she saw Kzin coming at her with weapons drawn. The last thing Smoke saw before passing out was Avolent standing in the R/T round room. Smoke rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced around the room, the smell, the warmth, her senses opened to all she knew and loved. But there was a change, she glanced over at Kzin's sleeping body next to her. "Yes, there is a presents here, something that does not belong within these walls" she muttered to herself. Picking up one of her long knives, holding it at an angle, her eyes mesmerized by the sparkling blade. "Avolent" the evil word slipped threw her lips. She knew now what she must do, that woman would never stand between her and Kzin again.... -------------------------- Message 75 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 6 07:12:40 1997 EST From: Ynaoise (#11886) To: *DragonRiders (#5915) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Evil is as evil does... Ynaoise sat in the den on the mount, head in his hands. He had not had a good evening. One of his friends, his family, had been accused of raping Yara, and causing her to be with child. It was a messy situation, but it had been sorted out, finally. One thing about law enforcement on the mount was that a Rider's Dragon will never lie... And it had made it easy to disprove what had been said. But it left a gaping question. Who? After a short discussion, it was decided that Kzin needed to be asked of his involvement. Ynaoise did not look forward to that, as Kzin was well known to not only be insane, but a dragon killer also. But then, if he could face down an enraged Lyrzrath, his wife Yjezra's Dragon and Queen Dragon, then maybe he would have some small chance. Who knows? Lyrzrath was intensely angry over the Knight Khyber being on the mount, and Elshydrath was put out by Khyber being rude to her and ignoring her. Started sharpening his axe, as his mind continued whirling, and he started thinking of the nightmares again. "I wish it were true what Yjezra said... But I believe these dreams to be true... Someone is coming after me... His kind destroyed my race, but The Families did not understand war like our ancestors did... And the Riders do... There is a chance... And Yggidrasil can be taught to work the star metal... But could Mantle be convinced to help? The bare metal alone would cause him to be ill... I will ask him, the next time he leaves his study... And with that, Ynaoise finished his sharpening of the axe, and set out to find Yjezra. He passed Tierz'lan and Elshydrath, laying together in the caves. He stopped and watch them sleep for several moments, smiling at the thought of his adoptive 'mother' finding someone to make her happy, as he had found a special someone himself. He went and found that someone, Yjezra, and was not seen for the rest of the long, dark night... -------------------------- Message 76 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 6 07:56:33 1997 EST From: Yjezra (#5288) To: *DragonRiders (#5915) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A Dragon's Anger Yjezra tiptoed into the hatchery, looking at the brooding Queen. "Lyrz?" Silence met her, a disgruntled rumble. She looked at the eggs, slowly settling to the sand, knowing she wasn't welcome at the moment on the cot with her dragonfriend. Glancing over at Lyetra's sleeping form, she felt the young woman's peace and happiness of dreams. Sighing, she reached out and ran her hand over the leathery shell of a red egg, thinking back over the other night. Yggy had brought Aislyn and her lover, Khyber to the Aeyrie..not just to the Aeyrie, to the Hatchery! Had Yg called first to warn anyone of his bringing the enemy of the Mount, No! And he brought that very enemy, a rider of one of the Abominations!..brought him into the hatchery with Lyrzraths newly clutched eggs. She shuddered at the remembered anger and ferocity of Lyrz. Of the urge to kill that washed over her so strongly, that she had to fight back, holding the angry Queen in check, calming her. That was another of the reasons Lyrzrath was angry with her. The other reason was Yjezra welcoming Khyber along with Aislyn to the mount. Sharing the Gift of Water..making him an Honored Guest..giving her bond that as long as he came in Peace, she was honor bond to protect him from others, including Lyrzrath, but to offer him welcome ... The worse was to come, after Yg had taken Aislyn and Khyber to the Dorm. Yg returned and Lyrzrath roared at him about his stupidity in bring an enemy to threaten her eggs. He tried to talk back to her, explaining..but she put a stop to that quickly enough, towering over him, her eyes ice grey and red. Once Yg appologised and left the angry garnet turned on her own rider, roaring out at Yjezra. Accusing her rider of putting her eggs in danger, she roared her rath till Ynaoise had stepped between her and her own dragonfriend..Afraid of what the dragon might do in her anger. Yjezra leaned back, wondering how long Lyrz would remain in this dark and brooding anger. -------------------------- Message 77 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 6 08:03:46 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Lyetra's eyes fluttered open.. she was lying in the warm sand of the now familiar hatchery, and nearly the first thing she saw was the indigo aura egg. Brinn had told her last night that she was Worthy. Lyetra smiled sleepily to herself. She had been getting better - things with Yshar were nice, she hadn't been having nightmares since sleeping near Lyrzrath, and she had a massive appetite. And now, she was worthy of this egg. Sorrow seemed to drift away when she thought of it. But there was the matter of Yara, poor thing. All events of last evenin aside, she was still concerned for little Yara. And if it meant getting Kzin and bringing him back to the Mount for trial... Lyetra shuddered to think of it. Having Kzin on the Mount - even in a fail proof cell - would make it hard on her. Khyber was already here, but she had a mere distaste for him despite having been chased down by him in the past; she chuckled - why not bring Rathe up too? She sighed, there was no reason for bitterness... if Kzin was responsible, he should pay - with his life, for all the other crimes he'd committed... including the one against herself. She was drifting back into sleep, the sound of Lyrzrath's breathing like a lullaby. She had a family here, which is what was important. And she was on the road to a wonderful life. -------------------------- Message 78 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 6 11:16:55 1997 EST From: Cheetah (#12402) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dexter Yep, you are. I beleive we put you in as head of bionics? -------------------------- Message 79 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 6 11:17:46 1997 EST From: Cheetah (#12402) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: feh *TP instead of *TO, eesh ;P Ignore that last one -------------------------- Message 80 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 7 03:29:45 1997 EST From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The mount. Khyber laid beside the sleeping form of Aislyn, gently brushing the hair from her face, "I don't know what you see in this mount love.." he murmurs, lightly kissing her on the forehead. He thought back to the night they came on the mount.. how Yjezra welcomed him with some strange honor ritual.. she seemed nice enough, but apparently the others didn't seem to care. Yshar especially.. how he totally attempted to get him thrown off the mount.. but Yshar didn't matter. no dragonrider mattered to him.. the only one person who did matter that was on Morlith Aierie is Aislyn, and Khyb'd make sure she is safe from the hands of the riders.. he then grinned slightly, remembering after they left from the hatchery, Aislyn and him went into the dormitory.. undressing each other, and making quiet love in the darkness of the dorm, there nude bodies close to each other.. he had proclaimed his love to her before they came on the mount, and the love he had for her would not diminish at all. he started to sharpen wolfblade, but then thought the noise would just bring the morlith beasts around, so he put it away. His thoughts then again trailed back to the morning.. how Deirdriu had grown ill, and yet.. Khyber didn't care.. it was there own problem, Khyber had enough problems already.. even the dragons were pissed at him, he laughed out loud, and Aislyn moved slightly, but not waking up. he looked down to her, "things will go as planned love. and then, they will never know what hit them.." he then laid down beside Aislyn again, wrapping an arm around her, and falling into a troubled sleep. -------------------------- Message 81 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 7 10:34:07 1997 EST From: Morpheus (#12681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The First Temptation Morph stumbled about as he made his way deeper and deeper into the wastes. His mind whirled madly with random thoughts as the stinging winds swept against his face. Feelings of intense anger and loneliness surged through him as he struggled to regain his footing. One thought above all others, however remained lucidly in his consciousness. He could not see. The ever changing patterns of possibility were closed to him and replaced by a veil of impenetrable darkness. Somehow the one called Appalene had disrupted his incursion into the Horizon Realm. She had somehow torn away both his Sight and his guide leaving him helpless. Anger rose anew into Morph's mind as he thought of her, and from the anger something new was born.......an emotion he had never felt. Its touch was like fire upon his conscioussness, causing his mind to ignite with dark and ponderous thoughts. "IT IS CALLED HATE." Morph glanced around, recognizing the ethereal and yet omnipresent quality of a spirit entity. Unlike Raven however, this voice was different , its voice was harder edged, with a lower tone that seemed to grate upon his ears. A certain calm seemed to re-assert itself over him, and Morph's madness withdrew long enough for him to think clearly and yet remaining just outside his consciousness, threatening him with its possible return. "Who are you?" he asked simply. "I AM A FRIEND. I AM ONE WHO KNOWS THAT BALANCE SEEKS AN ETERNITY OF STASIS. I AM ONE WHO KNOWS THAT BALANCE HAS ABANDONED YOU." Morpheus frowned as the skies around him began to darken and grow heavy with shades of black and grey. The sands around him began to blow hard, driving him back. Before him a wall of sand began to rise from the floor of the wastes. A single shape emerged, walking towards him. Morph recognized it immediately.....it was the Witch Appalene...the one who had robbed him of the Sight. Hate filled him again as he beheld her. A snarl emerged from his lips as he felt his hands clench at his sides. A hunger filled him as he looked upon her and for a moment, he almost sated it, and then he stopped, holding back. "WHY DO YOU HESITATE? SHE HAS STOLEN WHAT IS YOURS! SHE HAS TAKEN THE POWER SHE DID NOT EARN! WHAT DID SHE SACRIFICE TO GET THE SIGHT? YOU HAVE SACRIFICED SIGHT, SOUL AND DESTINY. WHY SHOULD SHE HAVE IT? WHY NOT TAKE WHAT IS YOURS? IS THAT SO WRONG??" Morph's mind exploded as he heard the words and he lept forward, his hands becoming a fury of blows as he grasped the form and ravaged it with unnatural savagery. Warm blood sprayed against his face and shards of broken bone cut his hands as he shredded her flesh with his bare hands. The wetness of the blood on his fingers felt strangely comforting and yet.....different. It was then, that he realized the texture had changed.....not blood now...but sand. As the winds of the wastes died down, the echo of faint laughter drifted slowly away with them........ -------------------------- Message 82 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 7 13:22:07 1997 EST From: Appalene (#10655) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dream or Reality? She could feel the blood pour from her as Morpheus swung, the strange haunting voices continuing on. He was angered, and she was indeed the reason. As her form in the sand slowly bled and broke, she saw only blackness, and then... Appalene awoke, sweating, her body breathing hard and fast as she sat for just a moment. She did not know where she was, where she had been. WAs it just a dream? She turned her head, slowly, cautiously to the left side, observing that Akane was in the bed, sleeping calmly. Dream. Only dream. Those horrible sights she had continued to get. Not all were as bad, but lately. How could she taunt him so like that? That was not her. She had not even _known_ how she took on his sight, how she had been given this strange curse, this strange curiousity. None of this made sense to her, and now, this dream. It was if she could feel Morpheus attack her, rip her to shreds. It felt so real! The thoughts had become intense. Her whole presence would drift off, into this strange other world, a Raven talking with her. She could do nothing more than listen, and ask unanswered questions. Never could they be what this did, what it was for. Why it had fallen to her hands. She needed to find Morpheus, she needed to get this pain to stop. But did she really want to take the risk? He was insane in his actions, and the dream.... Appalene shivered, the cool air touching her sweatty body. She sank back into the bed, closer to Akane. She could not sleep again for the rest of the night, could not even close her eyes. She had to plan for a way to save herself and the blinded man. She had to right this again. -------------------------- Message 83 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 7 15:00:20 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Re: The Mount Double meaning there, eh Khyber? nudge nudge! (cackling evilly) --Rathe -------------------------- Message 84 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 8 15:48:24 1997 EST From: Shimmer (#18718) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Days dreary. Shimmer sat down on his bed, tears flowing from his eyes. in his hands, a small, brown piece of paper lay. its edges brittle and damp from fresh tears. he once again glanced down at it.. and gave out a large sigh as he read... ---------------------------------------------------------- @Intranet Message #120242 Recipient: Shimmer Subject:_________ Dear Shimmer, it is our sad. sad duty to tell you of a tragic event. at 10:01:21 this morning, Your family, along with a whole apartment complex, was devastated by a local bomb. the threat was ignored, and then the detonation went off.. leveling the building. the bomber was caught, and slaughtered by 2 local heli-cops. the last remaining family member was you.. and some items will be sent to you later.. our sincerest apologies Mr. Shimmer.. we knew you loved them well. @End_Message Sender: Division of Explosive detonative devices, Berlin border. ---------------------------------------------------------- Tossing the paper to the ground, he feel to his bunk, the fresh tears hot in his eyes, the shock too much for his system.. he fell into a deep troubled sleep. the sound of Dragon's in the background. -------------------------- Message 85 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 9 03:50:50 1997 EST From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Chat (#5391) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: *DOHS, smacks his head against keyboard* Once again, the modern miracles of MUlti-Mooing,. cold fingers, Jolt, and lack of sleep have ambushed me..*chat was meant to go to *tp *dohs* -------------------------- Message 86 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 9 13:13:45 1997 EST From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: R --I left all the deails out for most of it.. no gross stuff "How could he be here... How could he be here again" Alluvia called out to the rather unsavory crowd of the lounge. There before her eyes stood her pain, her hate. All this in one man. Braden smiled at her, as he usually did, such a calm collected smirk compared with the violent torrent of emotions that boiled into her. He held in his hand a vial -- deep blue in color, catching her eye as it once had not so long ago. Alluvia crumpled, and begged to know what he was doing with it, who he had poisoned (Her son...her friends?) He laughed, touching her with his cold rough hands, against her own will as it were. He tormented her speaking that he had done nothign yet, but that he would... soon. She focused upon the vision of her son, no doubt playing in the fields of Drach'nal. She could not live to see him suffer as he had once made her. Braden continued to taunt her, lure Alluvia into believing and doing what he wished. She had agreed to do as he bid, once before, for fear of the same threat. His retaliation against her? The fact that she had not. She could not remember what she had done to displease him, if anything. Was he just trying to make her loose her nerves? Alluvia begged Braden to leave the others alone, especially her one beloved son. His laugh was disheartening, as if signaling that he had already set about the crime. He asked for the staff she held, the magical "Levity" that had been with her on her travels since day one. "Will this for once and for all get you far from me... from those I love? Will you leave me be?" He smiled again, a look of distrust crept on her own face. He nodded, and Alluvia complied, first leading him southward, into the Obsidian chamber, far from his contacts and friends. There she asked of him again, would he leave her, her child, her friends at peace? Again he nodded, growing impatient by the questioning. She reluctantly turned over the staff to him, and before she could scream was promptly knocked down and dragged off. Pt. 2, next -------------------------- Message 87 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 9 13:27:17 1997 EST From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Pt. @ Alluvia awoke with an intense pain. She also awoke to his cold, forboding eyes. She had been tricked again by him, and again she had fallen for the lies he told. The staff, was just to lower her defenses. "Strip" He yelled out, his face menancing. Alluvia would not, fearful of what his intentions were. He yelled out the word again, telling her if she did not, he would do it for her, quite unpleasantly. She looked at him, complying. He ordered her to lie down. She did, and after numerous pleas, closed her eyes. Her thoughts begain drifting off to her son... off to his happiness. He would be spared, she thought. She began to push away the pain she was feeling, driving what her body felt away into the peace of her dreamworld. Her only sign of the pain being tears shed by her body naturally, her mind was long gone in other worlds. She called for her teacher, her Rajen. In her mind they were together laughing and singing... all three, her son her teacher, and herself. There was no Braden, there was no pain. She could have asked to have been taken from there, right then. Taken from what was going on. Her mind drifted deeper and deeper. Recalling times before now, where Braden had kidnapped her, had tortured her...He had poisoned her once already, making her almost loose the son she had, and the sight she once new. She cried out against these thoughts, trying to move, trying to break free of them. But they were horrid memories, and they could not be torn from. The calming voices of her son, her teacher tried to pull her away from these thoughts. Soon she began slipping farther back, falling away from the peace and tranquility, into darkness and dispair. A strong jolt shook her body, she did not know from what... she lost control of what she thought, what she could think. Slowly, all she saw was a cold and enclosing blackness. Her body shutting down much as her mind had already started to. Alluvia slept on through this darkness, dreamless, not knowing what to believe any longer. All her pain, joy, happiness, saddness... It all fell away. -------------------------- Message 88 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 9 17:30:37 1997 EST From: Skywalker (#6644) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A message over comm lines or in the newspaper, whatever you like. In the legal case of the People versus Red-Fang, the prosecution has dropped the charges against the wasteland dweller. It was decided that Red-Fang was not at fault for harming the Nymph Yara. No other charges have been brought up at this time. --Hon. Judge Skywalker -------------------------- Message 89 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 10 09:04:26 1997 EST From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Happy Birthday Rated G or maybe PG-13 Devon woke up as usual, Myst, Yshar and Khyber were on the ledge either resting, or just just in deep thought. Myst remarked to Devon did you know what day it was. Devon knew he didn't forget their anniversary, or their first date so what could it be he thought. He realized he couldn't remember her birthdy so taking a guess and it paid off. He gave her a tight hug wodering what he'd do to make ip up to her. She kept poking him with her spear and chuckling. Devon had an idea for romantic evening after that. Myst blindfolded was lead thru Drach'nal after a very spirited flight by Thyzraith. They found a nice quiet place and he remove the blindfold. He told her he loved her and that he hd an idea, but he needed her help. Together with Myst's skill they went hunting for some dinner. They happened upon a dear, Myst launched her spear at it wounding it gravely, Devon walked up taking Myst's hand over the spear and they both killed it together. The rest of the night went well eating an resting under the stars, Myst held Devon tightly and whispered in his ear. His face went stark white then he looked at her in total shock, "YOUR HAVING ANOTHER BABY?" Myst chuckled, pulling him down to the floor where they kissed and the rest of the night went by. -------------------------- Message 90 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 10 13:19:45 1997 EST From: Deckard (#3748) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Last Exit The warm winds of Jizo island blew over and through the little house amoungst it's trees called the Jen Arbor. As it passed through the open western wall, little pieces of broken glass and splintered wood fluttered across the floor with it. The once beautiful setting had been ripped apart by some kind of violent and deadly conflict, laying almost everything in the small apartment to waste. The wide floor is now empty of it's old furniture, most of it tossed to the ground thirty feet below. In it's place is only a torn and tattered trench coat, it's dusty brown color splotched with dried crimson. Other patches of red are left on the room, one wall marked with the evidence of several red stained bullet holes. The only sign of human life left in the room lies twisted and surrounded in blood in one corner, a man's left hand severed from his arm. On it's middle finger, the ring finger severed long ago, is a gold band, it's working still intact. The calm soundlessness of the island has returned to the room, but in a different manner. Instead of peacefully comforting, the silence creeps, surround the destruction and malice and somehow amplfying it. The only the of beauty left is a golden bracelet, still shinning brightly on the half broken table, standing out from the rest of the silent chaos. OOC: Well, that's that. It's been fun. Thanks :) Adios -------------------------- Message 91 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 10 17:56:28 1997 EST From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Release, but no peace Alluvia awoke, the new morning sun greeting her through the rooms' window. She had not seen the sun's light in days. Her son slept curled next to her on the bed and she sighed, knowing again where she was. Had it been some sick, fated dream? She felt a soreness in her legs, her arms and below. Alluvia knew it had not been a dream, and perhaps was not over. She did not know how she had been taken from the confines of the cell, her life still intact. She did not even remember how she had managed back to her home. She only remembered Yshar's kindness, standing vigil as she thought outside her door. Had he taken her back? He had consoled her, and brought her now resting son to her bedside. He would protect her through the night against him. She feared that what Braden had done would not be the end. She could not remember anything, only feel the slice into her breast, the tenderness of her whole body. The visions were all a blur, but still so painfully visible within her. Alluvia curled into the bed, not wanting to leave the safety she knew. She would not leave the warmth and protection for some time. -------------------------- Message 92 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 11 00:22:13 1997 EST From: Ylise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: return Ylise curled into the bed with her husband. It had been a long two months indeed. She smiled, sensing Thyvoras'rath's deep contentment, her own peace. She had made the right decision. She had come back home again to be with her friends and family. They had gone to visit Nigel's family, since they had not seen Ylise until this time. They were surprised to see that she was pregnant, and so far along. She had enjoyed herself, learning more of her husband's family, his past and ways of life. She smiled, knowing he was content. It had been a long time since he had seen his loved ones, and this pleased him greatly. His own family had treated her as one of them, even though she was vastly different. They listened to her tales of the Mount and her dragon friend, the children especially pleased. She had truly been happy there. However, she sensed Thyvoras's uneasiness. He was troubled that she was so far, for so long. He had thought that she would stay there, and end their bond. She knew that she had to return soon. Nigel's family had discouraged the act, since she was so far along in pregnancy, so close to being due. She reluctantly then, boarded the plane, against their will and with strong sadness. Nigel stood with her, by her side, always there ... always by her side. Her friend was the first sight she saw when she exited to the Woods Hole Institution where the ship landed. She smiled, expressing her great hapiness. Thyvoras was beaming, and she could feel his joy within. She was home. With her loves. With her happiness. At that point, in that respect, Ylise knew that she would live the rest of her life, however long, on the Mount. She would not roam the world any longer. She had no need. Everything she wanted was right there in front of her. -------------------------- Message 93 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 11 00:32:18 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Study and seclusion Rathe was not in a good mood.. Not that this was a particularly unusual occurance, but recently it had been worse than usual. His chances of ever ascending to magister seemed slim, and with half the wheel out to have his ass on a platter, things were generally unpleasant. So instead of going to the lounge to stir up trouble with Coreen, he now brooded. Lacking anything else to do, he began to study the two new books which had been brought to him by a friend. After he had transcribed everything to his own seperate records, these books could be placed in the Spellsinger Hall library. A collection, he fancied, would possibly rival even DarkReach's. So, as he often did when he found himself in such moods, he locked himself away in his quarters, busying himself with research of his two new finds, and his mage studies. Coreen would stop by now and then (thankfully Akane hadn't noticed, the guildmaster really seemed to detest her.. not that anybody didn't) and Rathe didn't bother to ask if she was being social or hiding from the various people out for her head.. He was glad for the infrequent company, as long as it remained infrequent. Most other people trying to enter his quarters found themselves tossed into the cobblestone street.. He didn't feel much like having visitors. Basicly just an IC justification for my char's absense.. I suppose avoiding harassment by three of my GOOD friends (you know who you are, heh) wouldn't quite cut it ;) Adios folks, happy MOOing --Rathe -------------------------- Message 94 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 11 08:02:16 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Events Akane sat in the common room of the spellsinger hall, pouring himself another cup of raspberry tea.. "Appalene got me hooked on this stuff" he thought, chuckling to himself. He cleaned off some dishes, and his thoughts seeped back to the dinner party.. Inviting Red and Thistle to the guild.. lucky Rathe wasn't around.. or hell might have broken loose.. he was glad Appalene tried to help, even tho she was weak from casting some major healing spells it seemed. Appalene fell once when she was carrying the pitchers of tea to the table, and Akane ran up to see if she was okay.. she said she was still a little weak, but she did continue in the dinner.. he surprised most of them, by bringing out chopsticks for utensils, but it seemed Thistle had the unique mastery of the sticks. Red struggled slightly to eat with them.. as did Appalene. Akane easily ate with his chopsticks. then.. they got to talking.. and Thistle didn't feel so well.. Red bowed to Akane, saying he was a gracious host, and would like to return the dinner later. Akane bowed in return, looking a little concerned about Thistle.. mayhaps the foods he served didn't agree with her? if that was so.. then he made a lousy host... and the party was all for naught. but he shoved that notion from his mind, and proceeded to help Appalene put away the dishes... Appalene and him had been going together for a week or two now.. and their love grew a little stronger each day.. he glanced at the door to his chambers, smiling a little, then sipped some more tea. He thought about the accusations of Rathe calling her a whore and such.. how he said she went with him just to accel the ranks.. Akane didn't know what to do.. should he throw Rathe out on dishonoring the spellsingers, Akane, and Appalene.. or should he ignore it, and leave him to run around with that Flame girl.. seemed they had eyes for each other.. but if he ever caught her in the guild.. Rathe would be out in a heartbeat, maybe Frap would take Rathe's chambers.. if and when he ever did see Coreen in the hall.. Akane walked into the library, took the book of the spellsong from it, and walked back into his room, sitting slowly on the bed beside the sleeping form of Appalene.. -------------------------- Message 95 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 11 18:46:47 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: -----,--<@ Thistle sat on her bed and looked out the window onto the small island of Toosay. It wouldnt be long now. Soon she would be married. She couldnt believe it, part of her wanted to flee, but a larger part couldnt wait. She looked at the few things she packed, and then over at the things she would leave. The delicate Red Rose Yshar had given her would stay, it had no place at the Keep..just a place in her heart. Thistle placed a hand on her stomach, willing the butterflys to fly away. The last few days had been terrible, sick was not what she wanted..and not now. Thistle stood and smoothed her dress down then collected her things. It would take a while to get to the Keep and she needed to arrive on time. Heaven help her if she missed her own wedding. OOC : Wedding is tonight at 7 PST, 10 EST at Reds Keep. -------------------------- Message 96 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 11 20:44:01 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Directions to the Oasis for the Wedding >From the R/T Guest Chamber type this. go n n n n n n n n n n n n n e e e oasis thats 13 norths, and 3 east Rob -------------------------- Message 97 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 12 09:49:23 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Lyetra drifted through the mists.. she could feel her fever burning all around her, and did her best not to worry. She'd been told of things like this.. and she could only hope that this haze and sleep was what she thought it was, and nothing more. She had refused Yggy's herbs.. and refused a healer. And there was no true way to know if she had done the right thing.. or was flirting with death. She was dimly aware of Yshar's form beside her, and she had to struggle to keep in mind the fact that there were dragons all around. She didn't want to slip back into nightmares - Yshar was worried enough as is. Etra knew, she thought, why this had come about. Seeing and exchanging words with rathe had pushed her over the edge - she should have known better.. she was still delicate and healing. But the scotch at Thistle's wedding had had a say of its own. Ah hells... it didn't matter now.. here she was, and even if she opened her eyes, she wouldn't see much of anything. So it was better, after all, to sleep. And to sift through this dreamsleep... her mother had told her stories about this once. Etra had been having plenty of dreams, and ones bearing prophecy, but here she would discover what was in her heart. In her future, perhaps. And most of all... here she would take the final leap of healing. When she awoke, she could put it all behind her for good. OOC NOTE: OK.. I've needed a reason to explain my spotty connecting.. the RL reason is a bad connection and overbearing parents :P However.. this is the IC reason. (Thanks Rathe ;) no really.. thanks.. hehe) Look for the real me arouns sunday or so.. -------------------------- Message 98 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 12 10:20:55 1997 EST From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wedding Khyber sat on morlith, yawning widely, "Apparently Morlith never heard of Fun before." he muttered, wiping some dirt off his kilt. "and they don't even keep this place decent.." he smirked, leaning back on his bunk beside the sleeping form of Aislyn.. looking down at her.. "all in due time.." he murmured.. "all in due time.." and he drew out his dagger, carving his initials K.R. into the side of the bunk. The wedding he went to went along fairly well.. it was both an honor and a duty to wed thistle and Red.. he felt like Red was his brother.. and now.. Thistle his sister. The minister looked too drunk for his years, but managed to compliment Khyber on his drinking skills.. well. atleast the wedding went along smoothly.. Stryfe, accompanied by Ellyw and Drazathak landed.. making the party even more honorable. but after the wedding, guess who arrived? none other than Rathe. Khyber brandished his blade, growling at the sight of him, and Rathe murmured to Red and Thistle, before making his leave.. the other part of the party seemed nice.. but the last hour of it seemed a blur.. damned Scotch. Dougal Fraser sure spiced it up. he chuckled, his head pounding. he looked over at the others, blinking slightly at the one known as Juliet. she was.. disclothed, and Khyber turned his head politely, "guess the Corwin kid got some fun" he mused to himself, counting imaginary wyrms on the ceiling of the Dormitory. he smacked himself, "Damnit Khyber, snap out of it." he thought to himself, "never again will I drink scotch, and ride a morlith dragon back to this wretched mount." he once again thought, laying down on his bunk, gazing once again at the ceiling. -------------------------- Message 99 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 12 12:04:15 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The wedding Thistle snuggled up to Red in the huge canopied bed, smiling. They actually got married and it went off fairly well. Dougal drank a bit too much before the ceremony, but the words and customs were so ingrained in him..in all the clan for that matter.., that he could of married them while asleep. Thistle ran her hand lightly down Red's arm, trying not to disturb his sleep. He made her feel so proud, so happy. She could only hope she honored him as much. Gently she bit her lip between her teeth, stifling the chuckle about to break free... Khyber.. *grin* .. there was no one better to bond them in marriage, he seemed to relish doing it and adding his own humor to the occasion. All in all it was a good time, at least it had seemed that way when she slipped away just after the ceremony and well wishes. She wanted to stay, but being sick at the wedding wasnt what she wanted people to remember. She hoped Red understood. Kissing Red lightly on his shoulder, Thistle snuggled further under the heavy blankets and went back to sleep. OOC : Lost my connection right after the ceremony, *grumble grumble*,.. Poor Red.. If i lost it 5 minutes earlier and he'd stil be a free man.. *chuckle*. Thanks to everyone who showed up. -------------------------- Message 100 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 12 19:29:05 1997 EST From: Cristal (#7366) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Ever-Stretching Sorrow She brushed the hair from her daughter's forehead with a gentle, trembling hand and sighed softly, wishing that she too could find solace in sleep. The sun had descended long ago and shadows creeped across her bedroom, only seeming to mirror the dark circles under her eyes. Jasmine continued to ask for her father, too young to understand the concept of death -- or what Cristal perceived that death was. Even she was unsure about the fate of her husband. A small hope burned within her that he was alive and out there somewhere. The image of the severed hand haunted her. That very same hand that used to touch her and make her feel whole. That same hand onto which she had placed a ring, in symbolism of her love. The tears flowed down unrestrained now. How she missed Deckard. Nub. Slipping Jasmine from her arms, she tucked the toddler in. Her daughter now slept beside her, filling up the empty space. Slowly undressing, she peeled the clothing away from her body, trying to think of happier things. Lately, all that consumed her was her husband. Everywhere she went, everything she saw reminded her of him. She slipped into bed then, cold toes having nowhere to go to warm themselves. Sleep did not come for another long while. All the more time to think about Deck, to love and miss him. -------------------------- Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 16:08:10 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 101 - 150 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 101 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 12 19:53:49 1997 EST From: Appalene (#10655) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Happy days. Appalene sang on... her heart full of joy... Her dreams had indeed come true. Akane had awoken, telling her of a dream. A very special one. It was of them, years beyond. They were together in such a happy circumstance. They were married and with a small girl... their own child. She had smiled at all of this talk., enjoying the fantasy. But Akane did not rest at that. No, his intentions were to make the dream much a reality. He kissed her gently for some time, and with bashfulness and slight trembling, asked her to be his wife. It was the greatest news she had heard in all her days... HEr mind was dazing, swirling with pure joy. She curled into him, sighing happily as her body drifted unto sleep, drawn by his warmth. Days indeed had turned from her start. She was loved. -------------------------- Message 102 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 12 21:06:19 1997 EST From: Yshar (#12217) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Beautiful Lilly Yshar stood above the soft bed, looking down at the beautiful form that snuggled quietly in the smooth sheets. He leaned over to feel her forhead, to discover she was still hot to the touch. His eyes glinted with worry, even as a slight smile played over his lips. He whispered to himself, "I love you, Lyetra...Be well..." She had told him not to alert a healer...Only requesting he bring her some of the fever reducing tea. "Tyzrath, watch her for me..." Yshar said to his sapphire friend. For, though he might wish to remain by her side at all times, he knew this to be impracticle. Yshar strode slowly out of his cavern, looking over his shoulder longingly at the innocent darling that had captured his heart. -------------------------- Message 103 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 13 10:46:36 1997 EST From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: This is papa bear calling goldilocks, come in goldilocks... Harrison lay sprawled out on the hearth in the R/T lounge, puffing lazily on the last of his tobacco and gazing into the fire. His thoughts turned briefly to home, his own time, and for a moment he felt a tinge of remorse and longing that made his heart ache and his jaw clench tightly. He remembered the cold look in his father's eyes, gazing up at him, his lip split andhis face smudged with dirt and his own dried blood. "I damn you to hell..."He said. Harrison raised the gun slowly to the old man's head and... He shook his head softly, beating the thoughts back into their lil closet, and flicked his smoke into the fire. The paper flared a bright orange, then died away amidst the constant yellow/blue flame. "We all have to make choices..." he thought to himself as he turned his back to the fire and watched Oz polish shot glasses with a dingy rag... With a sigh he sat up and opened his backpack. he rummaged around inside and finally removed a black, leather bound notebook and a pen. He turned to a fresh page and wrote... Saturday 2feb, 2038 4:30am ...I have concluded after much thought that I have been abandoned here. Perhaps they has never intended to come for me at all, and I seriously wonder now whether the time machine had been built for a round trip...... Jared has obvivously cut me loose, I'm a patsy...and I've seen no sign of my supposed contact here...I can just see Jared now, kicked back on some fucking beach somewhere, while I'm stuck in this asylum. Still...it has been a productive couple of weeks. A wink here, a whisper there, a rumor dropped idly in passing, and now Rathe, Yshar, Lamia, Mug, and a few others are at dire odds... I don't know who you are "Rintrah" but I'd say I've damn near earned my money. Just a little more time and you'll have your war...and I better damn well get paid...!" Harrison smiled to himself, rising slowly and stretching as he closed his notebook and put it away. He stepped to the bar and had Oz poor him a double whiskey and he knocked it back with a laugh. The cover story had worked so well...no one seemed to understand cryogenics with any clarity except a few tech order people. "At any rate," he thought to himself, "its not all bad here. I have Iz...and that cryopsychosis bit endeared me to more than a few of the softer hearts here....heh." He slid the whiskey glass across the bar to Oz and grabbed his backpack off the hearth. He walked out the door slowly, his head buzzing slightly, and a sense of pride and accomplishment swelling his heart. "Now, who's next...?" The door to the lounge closed noiselessly, and Oz leaned back against the bar and rolled a thick joint... -------------------------- Message 104 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 13 11:53:21 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: I walk along darkened corridors... After an unknown time of misty drifting, Lyetra found herself standing in a darkened room. It was pitch black, and yet somehow she could see herself clearly. She stood puzzled for a moment, and suddenly - much to her shock - her mother stepped out of the shadows. She spoke in Gaelic, and put a hand to Etra's shoulder, 'My daughter... I'm sorry for all you've been through. But now you must complete a task. You want yourself back.. you want to begin anew.. and I want the same for you. What you are about to do may be more difficult than anything you've ever known.. but have faith..' Lyetra looked her mother over.. Mairead looked just as Etra remembered - her hair sprinkled with silver, her face still youthful. Lyetra's hand went to her own gray streak. Mairead's eyes drifted to it for a moment, and then she went on speaking, 'You can not continue to live in fear of what you might remember. You can not always regret not being stronger in the past. You may be ill in body, but it is for this - your soul must walk the corridor of your life another yet one more time, and put right everything that troubles your heart.' Lyetra nodded.. she was scared to the core, but she knew her motehr's words rang true. As soon as she gave her consent, her mother kissed her forhead, then melted back into the darkness. A door, rimmed in gold haze, appeared before her - and even as she gripped the handle, she knew this journey was not necessarily going to be a pleasant one. -------------------------- Message 105 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 13 21:50:50 1997 EST From: Ylise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The long wait finally ends.. Ylise smiled, wearily. She curled next to her husband and sighed, turning into sleep. It had been a long evening indeed. What had originally been set for a walk had turned into something much more. She had been feeling pains of pregnancy all throughout the night, and when she awoke, she could feel the baby move inside. She knew she was near to giving birth, and as each day progressed, she grew progressively excited. She had smiled as her husband touched her belly when she awoke, feeling the slight push of the babe within her, touching to the sensation of him. She had decided that a walk would suit well, for the both of them. Perhaps it would keep her mind off the slight discomfort she was feeling. She walked out of her cavern, her husband nearby. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining high, the Morlith birds singing a pleasing song. She greeted her dragonfriend with a smile, and nodded to Tyzrath. Thyvoras had still been excited about the fact that she was home, and that she was so due to having a 'hatchling'. The uncomfortable pains kept in occurance, and she felt a strange feeling. Her water had broke, and was trailing down her legs in near rivers. Ylise blinked... and told Nigel.. "It was time". He quickly carried her off a bit dazed, but instantly aware when he spied the fluid. She could feel the contractions begining, still rather s pread, but growing close together. Nigel prepared the bed, laying her in it and making her as comfortable as he could be. Thyvoras'rath met her in the room, excited by the announcement itself. He knew the child would be born soon. Nigel quickly rushed to find Freiga, for assistance and some clean linens. He came back nearly as soon as he left, Freiga close behind. His words were so calming as Ylise felt the contractions continue, growing so close, the pain increasing. She had never felt pregnancy like this before, her form now mortal and the pains so sharp. She had been through the birthing process before, but somehow... this was a truly different experience. Ylise screamed loudly, feeling the baby begining to push. Nigel was so calm, so collected, trying to calm her and soothe her, all the while watching the child. She continued in the struggle, the baby slowly exposing itself to the world. One last push... The child was free, a wet, bloody mess. Nigel smiled, cleaning his newborn daughter, getting her to breathe the new air of this strange world. He smiled, wrapping the child in clean linens. He brought her over to Ylise, kissing her gently. "It is a girl my love.. a beautiful baby girl." Ylise smiled, tears streaming down her eyes. She was weak and tired, but somehow, it had all been worth the effort. And the name for the child? Ylise and Nigel had decided on a combination. Ralia, Ylise's sister would be her first, Sarah, a grandmother of Nigel's her middle. Ralia Sarah T'kala. Nigel cleaned the bed, curling into it with his wife and new daughter. It was a happy day indeed as the three of them dozed, relaxing in the warmth of one another. Ylise at this moment was truly happier than she had ever been, for she could feel something she never had before. Not only was the pain for once, real, but so was the immense joy and pleasure. And nothing could take that away. -------------------------- Message 106 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 14 06:49:09 1997 EST From: Lykaj (#6068) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Almost there. Lykaj sat motionless at the top of the hill for hours. His body covered in sweat as he concentrated on his work. His body begins to shake, his face scrunched in pain as he throws all his willpower into his mission. A A few more minutes go by before he finally opens his eyes and lets out a long sigh, "I cant do it alone." He mumbles raspily. Grabbing a flask of water he drains most of it in one gulp. Popping a few pills in with the next. He grabs the flask of scotch that sits near the water and drains that one in a similer fashion. "This should help the comeing headache" He said out loud to himself. A gust of cold wind blows in from the north causing him to shiver lightly. He reaches in his pouch and pulls out his comm. "Find Nusratt, tell him I'm ready." He says to the gaurd on Uruken. After drying himself off he dresses quickly and lights the fire he had prepaired before hand. Warming his hands near the fire he murmers to himself, "I hate asking for help." He chuckles as he watches the shadows danceing around the fire. "So close, yet so far eh? Well not for long." He muses. Grabing a blanket he lays next to the fire and waits for his ride. -------------------------- Message 107 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 15 20:38:33 1997 EST From: Haefen (#16887) To: *mages (#11664) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Studying The days have been rough and tiring. I have had room for my normal spellsong studies, and learned some new spells this weekend, but i am tired, and have been seeming to go to bed at around 8:00 pm. My daily scedule would be: 7:00-8:00 Go for a morning jog. 8:30-9:00 Chat with people in the lounge. 9:00-9:30 take the copter to drachnal and go to the library in the spellsinger's hall. 9:30-12:00 Study the spellsong 12:00-12:30 go for a cooler, and talk to osbornn. 12:30-5:00 Search for the gem, to become devon's student. 5:30-6:00 Have supper- Talk to fellow spellsingers. 6:00-7:30 Study, and practise the spellsong. 7:30-8:00 Think of were else the gem could be, and plan my hunt for the gem for tommorow. 8:00p.m.-7:00a.m. - Sleep, and dream. OOC - Just a little junky piece of spam, showing my scedule, and my harsh studying.:) -------------------------- Message 108 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 16 13:31:47 1997 EST From: Milamber (#11545) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *Druids (#12232) Alluvia had suffered at the hands of the hunter known as Smoke. Of that, the tecumpah was sure. And he was not pleased. His student, bloodied and broken. After the pain from Braden, this was not something that reforms the body and soul needed in Gaia's service. Milamber feared that should would be scarred deeper than just the skin. That one, Smoke. She serves only the gods of greed and hunger. But no longer will that be an option. Such an attack against one of the druidic trust shall not go unpunished. But death and pain are not in Milamber's character. The lifeforce of magic is, however. The Magus encountered Smoke buried in her tent and began his spell. She would call herself a hunter? Then let her hunt without the ability to attack. A words and arcane verse tumbled out of his mouth, and the staff Hhyvara trembled with eldritch energies, a spell was woven. A seemingly innocent spell, but a powerful one nonetheless. Magical compulsion, it was called, penned by old mages, turned to the Magus's word. His voice rang out with the power of command: "Henceforth shall you not be allowed to attack first, Smoke. Only when the blade has been drawn, the arrow loosed, the staff swung, or the spell cast may you defend yourself. No longer shall you be able to hunt and do battle to the blind and unknowing. You actions in such matters are no longer yours to control. So sayeth I, Milamber, Magus of the First Order, Tecumpah of the Druids. And so may only one of my power remove such compulsion." Milamber nodded, convinced. The spell would last for several weeks. Perhaps Smoke will learn that crystals are not the sole thing to long for in this existence. Then, may Gaia rejoice. (OOC: compulsion only affects $players and sentient creatures (dragons and such NPC like Osbornn.)) -------------------------- Message 109 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 16 15:13:41 1997 EST From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A really bad day. Smoke stomped into Kzins house slamming the door behind her not caring if she woke Kzin or not. Her body was drenched in cold sweat, she looked around the room quickly still fearful that Milamber, that lunatic Magus would pop in at any given moment. With shaking hands she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a long drink knowing the warm liquid would soon calm her. She sat on the floor thinking about the whole stupid situation. Milamber coming into her tent through some kind of portal. Then accusing her of killing, stealing and attacking. Acting like judge and jury all warped up in one crazy mind. Chanting at her and waving his staff around, taking away her ability to attack. For how long she didnt know, but from his words she knew it wasnt permanent. "Fine" she mumbled to herself, "This will give me sometime to plan my next attack". Smoke pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, with a stub of a pencil she crossed Karcass name from the top and wrote in Milambers. -------------------------- Message 110 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 16 19:07:57 1997 EST From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Turn about is fair play Smoke looked up at Moonheart, studying his strong features as she explained what had occurred between her and Milamber earlier. She watched as Moonheart's smile faded into a frown. Moonheart placed his palm against her forehead, she could feel the energy, his power as he broke the spell. With a quick kiss and pat on her ass, Moonheart disappeared in a flash of light. -------------------------- Message 111 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 18 01:04:13 1997 EST From: Naxos (#9972) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: My god what have I done Rated PG. Naxos sat mindlessly in the round room drinking a bubbling ichor and trying to get some purpose back in his life. He thought about the past weeks of emptiness, Shaelin, Skywalker, he rarely saw any of his friends anymore. Just as he thought he'd goto bed Elora walked in apparently she needed to go into the infirmary for something he stopped her mid way and said hello. He'd not seen her in ages since his tryst, even after telling her there was no love for her, and she left as the other woman, Naxos thought he'd never see her again, well as of this moment he wished he had not seen her again. Elora and he talked about the past, she had a child in her now, his child. Naxos went from shock to fear to confusion, She kept saying how she wanted him and loved him in some way, so she kept the child, she wanted his child! It was the in a way bright news, Salome's death had cost him his love and his child with her. Elora had given him a second chance to pass on a legacy, to have a child... He thought over this he wanted to raise the child. Asking Elora if she would stay with him, if he could raise the child with her, was it truly possible for two people to raise a child, and possess no love etween them except for a physical attraction? This question haunted his sleep, Elora seemed to like his embrace, a hug no less but she clinged to him as though she still had hope. Naxos needed to search his feelings, and he only had about 3 months till the child was born, maybe this would do him good anyhow, he'd been drifting aimlessly, with no conscious thought, perhaps now he had something to focus on it would help. -------------------------- Message 112 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 18 09:08:00 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A _true_ new beginning.. Lyetra sat in the morning sun, despite the chill in the February air, and polished her harp. She smiled to herself, remembering back to the other evening. Yshar had proposed to her... kneeled before her, and - trembling - asked her to wed him. In the gathering dark of the evening garden, she had thought for only a minute; her dreams of late had been vivid - especially around the time of her sickness - and she had long felt that her destiny awaited her here on Morlith. So she consented. The look of releif and joy that spread across her face had filled her heart with wonder. She loved him in return, or was beginning to, and she was as happy as he was. So why had the tears come so readily? Even as she was rejoicing inside, she needed his arms to fight the wave of sadness that washed over her... the memories of that summer meadow in Drach'nal ... of Rathe saying words so similar to Yshar's. Rathe had been happy about their betrothal, at the time, and now he scarcely looked at her. Even though she had come to terms with it, it still confused and saddened her. She drove it out of her mind once more, and began to think about breakfast. Things with Yshar felt solid, and real.. they felt lasting. After she had finished with her tears that, she had blurted out wedding plans to Yshar. She intended to fulfill every one. May would be here soon enough - and she had a wedding duet to write. -------------------------- Message 113 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 18 15:29:40 1997 EST From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Surprises. Khyber laid in his bed, beside the still sleeping form of Aislyn. she had slept for quite a while now.. like back at Red's Keep. "hrm. i hope she is alright" he thought to himself, twiddling his thumbs on the god forbidden aierie. It had been fun around the R/T, he had fun as he beat Rathe and Coreen mercilessly, his anger flowing out with the quick strikes of the blades. never had he felt so good.. so... Knightly. he watched Shaelin and Lykaj from the corner of his eyes all the while, snickering to himself lightly. Aislyn awoken, and Khyber's day brightened.. his love hugged and kissed him, and they chatted for quite abit.. on how Khyber was adjusting to the Aierie.. and their love for each other. He queried her on why she slept so much, in a playful manner, She only said it was healing.. but he sensed something else. He dwelved deeper, showing his love for her ten fold.. and as he hugged her once more, her face turned an almost sickly green complextion, and she ran over to one of the numerous wastebaskets on the dormitory, expunging what was in her stomach into it. He was worried.. and asked what was wrong.. she only replied "it has to be the air of morlith" or "Musthave been something I ate.." and he nodded and hugged her gently once again. He told her how much he loved her, and would not want her to be unwell.. and she then looked distant for a moment.. then turned to him, gazing into his eyes. She asked if he truly loved her, which baffled him, and he replied "of course i do.. i'll love you no matter what.." and she smiled, and replied the same, then she gazed once again hesitantly into his eyes, and said in a soft tone, "Love.. I am with child.. your Child." and He did what most would call a double blink, and a tear rolled down her face.. she sobbed slightly, but he stratched his head, then smiled widely at Aislyn, "why are you sobbing? this is great!" he thought to himself, "I'm gonna be a father!" and hugged her gently. they were both very happy, and Aislyn was once again very sleepy.. so she quietly fell asleep in his arms, and he only could think of the the future.. -------------------------- Message 114 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 18 16:45:04 1997 EST From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Weakness clings to protection. Alluvia sat on her bed, running a brush through her long black hair. It shined against the suns' rays. Her eyes were passive and her body was slumped. She was in deep pensive thought. Her mind kept drifting back to her homeland, back to the world she had known. IT was so peaceful there. Braden had spoiled her peace here. He had returned and said such vile words she could scare control her own actions. And how she had enjoyed in causing him pain, the day before. The feeling coarsed through her body like the fluid energy of the magic she used to bring his pain forth. Her body grew weak after she realized she had used too much of herself to cause the pain. She needed rest, and rest she took. Her dreams were fragmented: Thoughts both of Braden's torture and Ikaris's calm. She had needed him this afternoon, but knew he had studied hard. When Ikaris had come to her later on in the day, consoling and comforting, the whole of her worries seemed to slip away to the sound of his voice. Each part of her knew safety was near. She worried only when her happiness was halted, when her son ran into the woods, hiding from them. He was angered, or alienated by Ikaris's presence. Something about him had struck her son Etan in bad chord. Alluvia was determined to find it's cause and to solve the problem. She needed to. Ikaris had become a small joy, that at this time, she could not bear to do without. Her son was the other peice of joy. It was between these two that life was made a bit brighter. With a soft hum, Alluvia sat back on the bed. She needed to decide her fate above all things. She needed to talk to her Rajen once again. And so with a calm and knowing motion, she slipped into meditation, driving herself away from the pains of the world, at least for a time -------------------------- Message 115 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 18 21:30:09 1997 EST From: Thistle (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Where to now? Thistle soaked in the warm tub. Her attention on trying to hear movement in the Keep, but there was nothing - just the desert sands blowing outside. Since the wedding she had hardly seen Red, since finding out about the baby .. even less. He said he was happy and she hoped he truly was, she wasnt so sure. If it was anything like Yara's pregnancy, she wanted nothing to do with it. Not at all. And maybe that would be the best thing for her and Red. This was all happening so fast. She had been walking around the quiet Keep for days now, a tad bit of stir craziness had started to set in. It was time to do something..anything.. -------------------------- Message 116 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 18 23:56:07 1997 EST From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dream Fulfilled and a Return Home Aislyn breathed a sigh of relief as she dismounted from Cyhyraeth's back, and onto the Motherland's soil. She reached up and patted the wyrm's flank in a smooth caress, just as knights of her father's court rushed out to greet her. The excited Chinamen then carefully pried the massive lemon drop egg from the undead dragon's claws, rolling it into the palace, through the extensive courtyard. Aisy smiled softly, glancing about her. She was home again and her father would be pleased. She walked swiftly behind the knights, muttering to one of the young boys to tend for the wyrm. The journey had been long and arduous. Aisy had been sick several times along the way. She patted her gently rounded belly. And thought of Khyber. The Lord had promised to relay her message to him. Tears welled in her eyes - she missed her love already. Ahh but she didn't have a choice did she? She was sent to Ghostheel in search of dragons. She was given a quest to fulfill. Having achieved this great feat for her country and her father, why wasn't she happy? Deep inside she knew. She hadn't counted on falling in love. She hadn't counted on making friends. Oh Yggy, I am so sorry, she thought. And Khyber, can you ever forgive me? Silk clad attendants rushed to greet her, and in their wake came her father. He bowed formally to her, his wrinkled face smiling. She knew that she had finally achieved honour in his eyes - that the whole country would rejoice. Still, she felt empty. That night, as she lay in her chambers, her body unconsciously reached out for Khyber's. Her mind replayed visions of Blight and Mercury, of the flight home..of Kisanth and Yggy taking her for a ride. She didn't sleep well at all, and cried well into the first rays of dawn. They were all lost to her now. Everything was lost..except her baby. Khyber's child. And yes, the beautiful dragon that would be born on China's soil. The spirit of the Motherland...returned. -------------------------- Message 117 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 00:27:51 1997 EST From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: regrets? or mixed emotions? Khyber looked out of the ledge of Uruken, his eyes like a cloud of mixed emotions.. his hands clenched his long knives, his knuckles whitening. he didn't know what to do now.. he couldn't go back to Morlith.. too much memories.. and Aislyn was gone.. left back to her homeland. he would probably never see her again, china was so far away.. but all he could think about was her.. her caring, her loyalty... her honor. Honor, that's what he most respected about her.. her sense of duty. that was the reason she went back to china, on the back of one of the great wyrms.. with her cargo. Boy Yjezra left in a hurry when she got news of what was going on in morlith.. a smile graced his lips as they left. The stryfe delivered that message.. that she loves him, and is not doing this because she want to.. but because it is her duty.. he felt a twang of sorrow, and he shook it off, HE COULD NOT feel like this. he loved her... and she was with child...his child.. and they had left to china. he sat down on the ledge, feet dangling off. disappointment that she had left filled his soul, and he forced himself not to show it on the outside.. who knows.. mayhaps she would be back.. mayhaps his one true love will not leave him... as Axelle did long ago.. he immediately threw away that thought, and stormed past the dragons, walking into the guards stables, and slamming a fist into the wall, watching the blood trickle from the wound, how good it felt.. to unleash his anger.. but perhaps things would work out.. perhaps all would be for the best.. but who knows.. he left the hand unbandaged, letting the blood trickle still as he walked back to the ledge, for the first time in nearly his whole life, a tear rolled down his face.. -------------------------- Message 118 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 00:30:52 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: re: the message stryfe gave Khyber Aislyn sent it to Stryfe, who then in turn gave it to Khyber. *hates his term proggy* OOC POST -------------------------- Message 119 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 00:31:25 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: and. Khyber wanted me to send that for him. since he is getting lagged to hell -------------------------- Message 120 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 01:13:10 1997 EST From: Stryfe (#5113) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Success! Stryfe turned off the comm unit with a private smile. ~Soon things will be set in motion~, he thought to himself. With that he strided into the Thantum to wait with Knight Khyber for his guests. They arrived soon there after, Yjezra and two escorts. Ynaoise and Ystchen. Some plesantries were exchanged, mindless babble all in all. While Yjezra sat here talking to him one of her precious eggs was being lifted from underneath her nose. It was all he could do not to smile. Stryfe answered all of Yjezra's questions as she asked them. Digging into his memory of the old Morlith. In the middle of her questions her comm unit buzzed angrily. Demanding to be heard. She was upset by the news that the unit relayed. While on her call, Stryfe got a call from Aislyn. She had made it safely, and was now on dragonback to her homeland. The egg held by Cyhyraeth. The call was hard to follow as the distance and storms over the ocean caused much interference. Finally, Yjezra left in an anxious rush. Stryfe, keeping an innocent manner said she could continue it later and hoped all would be well. Knowing full well what she would find. Standing on the ledge outside of the Thantum, Stryfe watched the blood-red sun sink behind the mountains, ~Red with the blood of Morlith dragons and their riders.~ -------------------------- Message 121 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 09:35:46 1997 EST From: Yggidrasil (#10625) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Frustration rated PG-13 Yggidrasil awoke and walked into the living caverns he was immediately greeting by Lan, the normally cool tempered dragon knew something was amiss. He informed Yggy that he'd seen the soft one Aislyn with two recombs on morlith! How did they get here Yggy thought, maybe one was Juliet... He moved throuhg toe mount and found Aislyn in a newly opened room, a forge. He'd heard a click and started talking to Aislyn, asking what the noise was, then what she was doing here, and who were the two recombs? He got few answers as Aislyn grew ill and he carried her back to the dorm and placed her on the bed. Somehow Aislyn had blown something into his face, he felt groggy, he said she betrayed his trust before he fell asleep, Aislyn's last words were that she had to complete a mission. Yggy woke up not knowing how long he was out for, he rushed to Kisanth, searching the mount, he called Yjezra and told her what was going on, he was extremely distressed how did they get herem how did they get out then he thought in absolute fear, the eggs. He rushed into the hatchery and found Lyrzrath sleeping, not noticing this was no normal sleep as she did not awake, and there was no egg harmed, but there was one missing they'd taken an egg with them too! The next few moments he dashed around morlith till he bumped into Yjezra and Ynaoise, Ytschen appeared later, the one clue that he had was that noise, a click.. He rushed into the newly opened forge, Yjezra said she had the only key and this room was locked, it made no sense at all... The searched the room after long deliberation and thoughts they found somewhat more hollow wall then the rest. Ytschen was doing most of the work Yggy felt extremely confused and couldn't handlt this so well. After that they plunged into darkness and followed the scraped path of the escapers, that was the last Yggidrasil saw as a dark cloud of dust came over him he felt ill at first then he passed out. He awoke in his cavern his head was in agony the pain from the headache was intense he went back to sleep hoping he'd feel better when next he awoke. -------------------------- Message 122 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 12:01:28 1997 EST From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Which Brings Forth the Pain of the Soul Aislyn awoke with a start and looked about her chambers frantically. Sweat beaded along her temples and her eyes were wide open, filled with fear. She closed them tightly, taking a deep meditative breath to calm herself. T'was a nightmare that had awaken her. A horrible horrible vision of sickness and death. The silk clad attendants rushed over to her, young girls much like herself. Their tiny bow-shaped mouths whispered , "Nyet-Ghin?", with concern. Aisy smiled softly and nodded her head to let them know that she was all right. Funny, no one had addressed her with her Chinese name for so long, yet there was no question -- she knew exactly that they were talking to her. Sweeping her legs over her bedside, she allowed the girls to care after her. A long steamy bath...and her traditional Chinese clothes. Not long after, Aislyn traversed the palace, to the solarium she used to nurture her dragons. It had been nearly a year since she last set foot in this place but alas, her father's court had seen to the upkeep of the room. There, beneath a dazzling ray of golden sunlight, sat her lemon drop egg. She began to sing sweetly, gentle hands smoothing the egg's surface. "Soon", she whispered. The egg had only perhaps a week to go before it hatched. She didn't think about the months yet she had to go beore Khyber's child would birth from her own body. She willed herself not to think about her love and how much she missed him. The Motherland needed her more now. -------------------------- Message 123 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 15:01:19 1997 EST From: Blight (#18795) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Undertaking Blight padded along quietly the huge, lumbering form of Mercury following behind him. Every so often he would hear a muffled grunt as Mercury hit his large head on one thing or another in the cramped secret passageway. Even he had to crouch down some, but that was fine seeing as how he used to run on all fours. Finally they reached the end of the tunnel. Blight unholstered his gun and stepped through surprising a small almost hairless woman. Covering her with the gun he asked who she was. After getting a satisfactory reply he sheathed the gun and let her lead to the hatchery. Blight wrinkled his muzzle in disgust, the smells of Morlith were very overwhelming. How the humans could live here he had no idea. It got worse as they neared the living caverns, all those dragons and humans living together. Except for some encounters with two small cats they had seemed to make it unseen. *So much for the easy part.* After Aislyn subdued the very large female dragon, he and Mercury worked on rolling the large lemondrop colored egg out of the hatchery. He was glad to get away from the musky scents. Once they had got back into the passage Aislyn was alerted to someone coming. Blight quickly closed the doorway and helped Mercury roll the egg to the meeting spot. -------------------------- Message 124 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 16:21:15 1997 EST From: Mercury (#16576) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lizard Stones (Rated G-ish) Mercury held his breath to avoid making any noises. The tiny itches that always irritated his hide itched away annoyingly much to Mercury's dismay. Knowing that he was going out hunting, and what couldn't be better than trampling small things or scaring the bejesus out of them. He listened very carefully to the big words of the Huntsmaster who finally gave in and told Mercury to follow his lead and to be quiet. Mercury was very disappointed when Mercury found out that he was only going on a walk through Morlith, the place of the "lizards". He watched as the tiny human sprinkled some powder over her lizard . o O ( Stupid Lizard, Mercury should kill Lizard to make Lizard smart like Mercury and talk like human ) But he wasn't told to and just put his shoulder against the large yellow egg. It rolled along the hallways until they got to the place they started. The tiny human waved the two off, yellow egg in tow. Then he found himself in a place in a valley that reminded Mercury of a room on Uruken with blood and chains. Mercury wondered who would be getting a bone dancer this time... -------------------------- Message 125 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 18:59:45 1997 EST From: Appalene (#10655) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Vision lost Appalene turned her eyes to the sleeping Akane. She had smiled as he touched her, his warmth and comfort sending her into blissful sleep. A sleep that for once, was not plagued with strange visions or horrid sights. The Sight that Morpheus had lost, its presence somehow finding entrance into her, had been given back to its rightful owner. But not before a cycle of strange sights. She had seen what she was told as the future, and the past. Some were beautiful sights of people and happiness, but others, were so vauge ... So chilling. She had therefore sought out the Seer. It was his, and not hers. Only he understood the vision's meanings. She found Morpheus, rather he found her as he wandered raving into the lounge. His anger was so present, so filled. He reached for his sword, screaming that she must die. That she must be killed to purge the evil. She did not know how to handle him, and her mind tried to stay calm. She pleaded with him, explaining that she was quite willing to give his sight back. His raving actions still stalked, and if it were not for Rathe and Corwin, as well as others, she thought she would be dead. Her mind slipped, her last sight of Morpheus over her with the dagger. When her conciousness was brought back to her, a subdued and calm Morpheus stood before her, hands gently resting on her temples, sending warming mage healing through her. She smiled, the horrid sights finally gone. AT last she was free from something she knew not how she aquired, nor knew nothing of its benefit... For her, it was only vivid nightmares and horrific sights. She knew the Seer was returned to his sight, his rightful sight. And she was happy. -------------------------- Message 126 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 20:33:31 1997 EST From: Yjezra (#5288) To: *DragonRiders (#5915) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Miserable end to a perfect day! Yjezra woke, careful not to disturb Yna as she slipped from their bed and dressed. Yna had stayed up with a fussy Etien, who was teething again. She looked down at her men and smiled happily, leaning over to kiss them both before leaving the cavern. She checked on Lyrzrath first and the eggs, the beautiful eggs. Lyrz was hungry again, so she next went in search of Raesaalth, sending him off to go hunt for the brooding garnet. Then went to the kitchen for her own meal and tea. Later as she was collecting herbs, Thyrzraith wandered into the garden seeming despondant, seeming to be searching for someone. Yj watched the sapphire for a few moment, then followed him as he left the garden. After looking around the ledge, Thyrz went through the arch to the west as if with a purpose. Following, she found him with his huge head lowered to the door to the training room, his huge eye peering in. He started creeling softly, his eyes whirling with yellows and dark grey. Sith came out and looked up at the sapphire, sighed and begged Thyrz to not slime him again, expecting it. To Sith's and Yjezra's surprise, the sapphire, sat back on his hindlegs, spread his wings as much as possible and began crooning to Sith, becoming more insistent by the moment as Sith looked up at the dragon in utter confusion. Yj smiled and explained to Sith what was happening as Thyrzraith spoke out the wonderous word 'Worthy'. Sith fell to his knees, speachless, then reached forward to touch the dragon, accepting. Yj suggested going out into the open abd passing through the Sarkus, they found Brinn, who spoke, calling Sith 'Worthy' in the dragon tongue. She told Thyrzraith and Sith that as Mantle was again away from the Mount, she would perform the SoulBonding that very evening. The ceremony was moving, beautiful as it always was, Yj sat watching her daughter, a strange mixture of pride, mild disbelief and some worry crossing her face. The Bonding ceremony over, Sith and Thyrzraith retired to their cavern. Peace on the Mount. Quiet and refreshing... OOC part Deux on its way. -------------------------- Message 127 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 21:08:12 1997 EST From: Yjezra (#5288) To: *DragonRiders (#5915) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Miserable End to a wonderful day! Yjezra went happily about the Mount after the SoulBonding, then spent some time with Yna after his return from downland. She sighed as her com-unit beeped insistantly. Still cuddling with her husband and small son, she answered, and was surprised to hear Stryfe's voice at the other end. After all this time he finally had time to go over the Old Mounts History with her. She couldn't miss this chance. Yna hugged her tightly, not releasing her and growling as she hung up the com. She explained that Stryfe said she could bring two riders and their dragons with her if she wished, Yna nodded and was ready before she had laid her sleeping son in his cradle. They walked out to the ledge and found Ytschen there, asking him if he would accompany them. Off they went. Yna's eyes the artic white of anger and displeasure, Ytschen clearly nervous as they headed for Mount Uruken and the den of the Undead dragons. They found Stryfe and Khyber in a cavern called the Thantum, much like the Sarkus without the thick atmosphere of magic. And after a few pleasantries Stryfe began to answer Yjezra's questions, as Yna stood over her protectively. The insistent beep of Yj's com broke into Stryfe's dictation, and when she answered it, listened to a nearly hysterical Yggy as he told her of the appearance of two strange recombs in the company of the visitor, Aislyn. The com went silent for a moment, and Yj cried out, her face turning pale as death. She stood, tipping her stool over as Yna reached out for her. Shaking she told him what had occured and that an egg was missing. She told Stryfe that she had to go, he seemd..strange, yet assured her that she would probably find all was well on her return. They left quickly, and returned, found indeed an egg was missing as was Aislyn. Yg had heard a noise from the newly reopened forge and they went to search the cavern..and after much searhing, fould and triggered a secret door hiding a passagewy deeper into the mountain. Ytschen, Yg and Yjezra began to follow the passageway, when Yggy was overcome. They returned him to the Forge and continued on, following the strange rolling type mark and footprints in the thick dust of the unsed tunnel. Finally she and Ytschen came out in a large cavern, then into the remains of an old mine. Walking out into the valley at the base of the Mountain, broken boards lay near the mine entrance and the strange marks and footprints continued into the forest. They followed the trail to a large clearing, Yj looked up, seeing the form of a huge flying creature disappearing into the distance, and scattered over the trampled grass they found the footprints of a dragon, bits of bleached bone and rotting flesh. Knowing the egg was gone for good, fearing it would become undead as the others, Ytschen called Rhyz to pick them up and they returned to the Mount, to fine that Lyrz was still under some deep and unnatural sleep. Yj curled up by Lyrzrath, worried at the deep sleep. She looked over the warm sands at the remaining eggs and sighed, glad to have the hulking form of Raesaalth guarding the entrance to the hatchery. As she drifted to sleep finally, Yj thought that what had started as a beautiful day and fallen into one of sadness and dispair. She worried at Lyrz's reaction once awake., -------------------------- Message 128 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 19 22:15:03 1997 EST From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Rising With students wishing to learn more about her art, Axelle organized a seminar, having found free time. The children were no longer young, and as well, Axelle felt out of touch with her pupils. They congregated in Kynwal's Waterfall Paradise, unknowing of their mission. After channelling both electrical and soul energies, the air crackled and swirled about the group. Her own husband's power united with the purple light. The deed had been accomplished. They had raised the dead from the earth, wrenched him from the eagle's talons. Oh yes. They had planned this for a while now -- they needed him for some undisclosed reason. The seminar had provided just enough energy and power to achieve it. Oh yes. The Fire Lord would walk again. The Morrigan had returned. -------------------------- Message 129 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 20 10:25:48 1997 EST From: Morrigan (#10469) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Darkness falling.... Darkness...encompassing...engulfing...endless... Cold...bitter freezing chill..... Wrenching...a shrieking cacaphony of voices, a endless cosmic fugue of the living and dead... Agony...excruciation...pain beyond anything the definition can possibly be given to.. A maelstrom of light...of dark...of shadows, of memories, of love, of despair...and of hope...and honor. Disoriented, confused...The Morrigan stepped from a purplish, roiling gate that exuded the life of many, a feral wary look etched into his face. Darting his eyes about, he found himself standing in a grassy area near pools of crystal clear water...and several entites in those pools. Feeling a panic born of confusion rising within him, he turned to look right into the face of someone he instantly recognized....and yet did not know... Suddenly, a quiet, lilting tongue speaking volumes in subtle nuances broke the crisp air...the tongue of the Fae. "So...you have returned?" The Morrigan broke his gaze from the one before him briefly to nod in the direction of the voice, responding automatically in the same tongue, saying, "It would seem I have...though...I know not why." Turning his gaze back to the shapely, darkly attractive female before him, he asked in the human tongue, "Why..why am I called back from beyond the Great Beyond?" She replied, meeting his gaze, and holding it with easy confidence, "To repay a wrong done you, you are called back from the dead, Morrigan." The Morrigan nodded as the female reached down to pick up a large, worn pouch, saying, "Also, I believe these are yours as well, Morrigan." With deft movements she handed him the pouch, then a dark, gleaming scabbard, the hilt of a strangely familiar blade snugged close. The Morrigan nodded, then seemingly unaware of those about him, began to dress slowly, removing chainmail, bracers, greaves, boots and cloak from the pouch and fitting himself into them with strangly familiar ease. Last in his pouch was a large, dark flask that weighed heavily upon his hip. As The Morrigan finished, those within the pools began to rise and dress themselves, then leave by a shimmering gate the other Fae opened with practiced ease. The Morrigan watched a moment, then stepped through the gate, followed by a odd looking individual. "This place looks familiar", The Morrigan thought aloud, looking about. The odd one beside him spoke, "It should...this is the R/T Tower...you've been here many times before.." The Morrigan nodded, looking around him with vacant, searching eyes of greyish blue, then asked, "I remember....I remember...I had a wife...a child....are...are they..d..dead?" The odd one shook his head, chuckling, "No...you've not been gone _that_ long." Time shortly thereafter, The Morrigan found himself again before the Fae he met earlier, and bowing his head, he asked, "If it would suit you to allow me, may I stay here within your Tower a while until I can find my own home again?" The Fae nodded, smiled slightly. "You can...you have a Tower yourself, it's just, how shall we say, displaced at the moment." The Morrigan nodded, brow furrowed in effort to recall, then nodded somewhat listlessly, "I cannot remember much...I am sorry Magus." Nodding in return, the Magus replied, "We'll get you back to normal soon enough...extra rooms are down the hall. Good eve Morrigan." The Morrigan nodded, wondering as he went down the hall, why arcing, rippling arcs of cobalt lightning, began to curl down the scabbard, from the dark hilted blade... -------------------------- Message 130 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 20 23:34:38 1997 EST From: Yggidrasil (#10625) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: empty birthday. Yggy rolled around in his bed, looking bored and staring at the wall, he sure wasn't going to check on Lyrz she'd kill him when she found out Aislyn took her egg and the fact he brought her here with Khyber no less. Checking on Deirdriu's sleeping form he fussed over her for countless weaks her ailment going away slowly, but he was still worried and wouldn't let her move more than a few steps each day. He wondered what had went wrong, he'd been here 4 years now, it seemed longer he'd never even had a birthday here as well, no one seemed to remember despite his hints at it. He snuck out of bed and walked into the new library, removing his books about his people. Reading quietly he sobbed knowing he had a family here but he didn't know how to talk to any of them recently. Yara;'s accusations alone hurt the most, when everyone even doubted him for a moment, they questioned his honor... He had Didi she'd always stand by him, he knew that... even Lyetra had yelled at him for trying to make light of Brinn's problems, he didn't know what to do anymore... Yggy finished reading a bit more of mythology and decided to get some sleep, he sure wasn't going to find his answers if he didn't sleep well. -------------------------- Message 131 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 21 01:01:33 1997 EST From: Czynahn (#16898) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Confinement (PG-13 at best, maybe R... ) She scowled at the ceiling, its dull grey a sudden reminder of how long the hours had become, how grey themselves. Not having to look at her hands or ankles to remember how they were bound, she sighed heavily, closing her eyes. The hours dragged slowly forward, and the quiet echo of her breath returning to her from the small cell did little other than remind her of how alone she was. She tried to paint pictures in her mind of other times she had been thus confined, other lives she had lived in other bodies with hands stained to black, ending in the cruel, smooth claws. It was all futile, a waste of her energies. "If only _now_ could be the time I chose to sleep for ages... " she muttered to herself, then rolled her eyes, realizing she had spoken aloud. -I must be going mad, then- she thought, -he's trying to bore me into submission now, I see- Looking back on the previous night, she found it all _almost_ amusing. Having gone, as she had grown accustomed to of late, to the lounge for a bit of wine and the warmth of the fire, perhaps a bit of company, she had run into the dark mage, and the man who now called himself her 'friend'. No one had ever really called her that in the past. His face tumbled through her mind for a moment, -friend- she thought, -it's almost sad, in a way, that on our third meeting this should come of it- and sighed quietly to herself. He had tried to defend her, taking offense to the way the mage, -no, the _Magister- she thought in annoyance, had spoken to her. No man would defend her, if he had not been a friend, she would have taken it as the gravest of insults. She fought her own battles, when it was her own battle to be fought. -Let them play their little games amongst themselves, I will tutm them on their heads then, and take what I can, how I can, but no man will fight for _me_- Wondering still why she had bothered to calm him, she decided it best to put that trail of incoherence out of her mind. -Why do I even care if he worries... he will see soon enough that I am no child, when I come out of this, my 'self' fully intact. After all, I nearly _invented_ this game of tease and wait, and see who it is that breaks.- She opened her eyes, and muttered, "Thirty-three. Thirty-three cracks in the ceiling. Two spiders in the corner. Five pillows behind my head." Not bothering to strain at her bonds, she idly scratched at them with a claw, staring blankly up above. -I thought a Magister would have better things to do than bother with the likes of me. Then again, perhaps I attract them. Damnable flies... if I were sweet as honey, perhaps it might make some sense.- His conjuring skills were without question. He had, at least, provided her with something comfortable on which to rest. It was something, at least. All she had need to do was ask. -Strange confinement, this. Sorry to see he has yet to realize I am as entertaining with my hands free, if not more so.- She chuckled softly, as she knew he was still of a mind to break her, own her, everything that she was. "This is my body, but it is not me." "This is my mind, but it is not me." "This is my emotion, but it is not me." She thought about the words, knowing he could take all three, and wind them around his fingers as deftly as a bard strummed a lute, but in the end, it would have to be her choice whether or not she would submit. -And I would never submit. Not to the likes of such meager ploys. If he takes over my mind, steals my heart... it would be a shallow victory. That is not what he wants... less than he will accept. Unless...- She simply smiled, closing her eyes, finding sleep again at last. -------------------------- Message 132 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 21 09:32:23 1997 EST From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Birthing A swarm of courtsmen rushed into Aislyn's bedchambers to awaken her. "Ghin!", they chorused, "Come quickly! The egg is cracking!". Aisy woke instantly then, at that flurry of Chinese. Shaking all grogginess from her mind, she scurried to the solarium, grabbing her robe to cover herself, along the way. As she neared the egg, a smile creeped over her face, its joy reflected in her eyes. The shell of the lemon drop egg was indeed split in several places, and she could discern subtle gentle movements within it. Aisy wasn't aware of how much time elapsed - she sat in patient wait, singing to the egg, wiping down the shell with a warm silken towel. Eventually, the entire shell looked like a spider's maze of web and cracks stretched around its surface. Soft whuffling sounds filled the room and the egg gave way to a definite surprise. Two tiny dragons emerged from the egg, their beautiful haunting eyes looking about with wonder. They remained side by side, almost drawing life and strength from one another. Their scales were unlike any Aisy had ever seen before, chameleon coats that refused to stay one color for long. She moved towards them slowly, the sweet melody draining from her lips. Reaching out both of her hands to touch them, each baby dragon craned out their necks and nuzzled her palms respectively. In silent prayer, she then attended to their needs, not allowing anyone else to interfere. None of these courtsmen knew a damn about dragon ken. Aislyn played with the duo that entire day, and well into the night. Seemingly, their existence helped to fill the void inside her. The two chameleons became like her shadows, and she purposely spent more time outdoors so that they could enjoy nature's freedom and beauty. It was when, on a quiet afternoon that week, the three frolicked on a grassy hill that a realization came over her. They had plunked down on the soft lawn to rest and the baby dragons moved in to nuzzle her belly in turn. They knew. The could sense the life within her. Whirling eyes comforted her, they were her family now. A promise. A tear trickled down her cheek, acknowledging her losses yes...as well, welcoming the new love and friendship into her heart and soul. -------------------------- Message 133 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 21 14:59:13 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Lyetra lay queietly on her cot, the sounds of other sleepers were the only thing to break the silence. She was feeling oddly anti-social, and had only wandered into the hatchery breifly to look over the Indigo egg. She was anxious for the hatchlings.. she was anxious for the wedding. She traced the onyx wolf on her bracelet gently, thinking of Yshar. She loved him, now; and there was no doubt of his love for her. She had been worried about his proclamation of 'forever.' She had been told the same thing before - her Syyrl had died, and Rathe had left her. (Anansi wasn't even worth thinking about..) But when she had begged Yshar for Truth, Tyzrath had spoken up. Dragons do not lie - destiny had brought her to this.. and Yshar was telling her nothing but truth. She sat up and leaned against the wall. She knew what had caused her to feel so on edge lately - going down off of the Mount had not been pleasant since the .. incident .. with Kzin. The last time she had ventured out, Thistle was moping, Rathe was cutting, and Devon had told her she looked old. Annoyance rose within her; she had to break free of this. She was reminded of a song, which was very old - and not even of her tradition - but it had been written by someone who must have been very wise. What was the title... ? Ah.. "The Way I Behaved." She hummed it softly to herself, the words running through her head... It was a song about a man who threw women away like dishwater - breaking their hearts, and never professing love.. He always said to himself when the right girl came along, he'd know by how he acted, how he treated her.. And finally, she did .. she had said 'You are not at all what they take you to be..' and the lyric then says, 'I betrayed her before she had quite finished speaking, And she swallowed cold poison and jumped in the sea..' The man only grows worse - and knows he's lost love forever.. He knows how he loved by the way he behaved.. Lyetra was not going to be that lost woman. Rathe had told her to move on - so she was. She swallowed hard, pushing down tears. 'It is over,' She thought. In two months' time she would be a bride - the bride of a noble, good man, who would be a good father. The bride of a man who loved her, and wanted little more than her love in return. 'It's over.' She said.. then realized she had spoken allowed. She settled back into her cot, hoping not to wake the other residents of the dorm.. and fell into dreamless sleep. -------------------------- Message 134 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 22 10:15:49 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Great, a demon for a kid.. Rathe started in his bed, waking up from one of the nightmares that always seemed to plague him as of late. Sighing in the dark, he pointed at the four corners of the room, muttering the appropriate incantation, and the room's torches flared to life. Rising from his bed, Rathe crossed the room and threw the curtains apart, looking out the window. It was near dawn, he saw off to the right the small glow that signalled the first light of dawn, causing the houses nearby to be faintly visible. Rathe shook his head, taking in the forest and town, and turned back to the room. His eyes fell on the makeshift cradle he had fashioned from earth the previous night. The child had not escaped, and seemed to be asleep. The `child', he thought, grinning wryly. Indeed not quite a child. The creature had horn nubs on it's head, and faintly visible gossamer wings. It was tiny, only a couple weeks old. Rathe looked at the creature sadly, muttering to himself. It seemed to have bonded with him, a child pure, untroubled by the problems of this world... Or was it? Sith.. Or Ysith as he was now called, had said the baby would soon become dangerous. It considered Rathe a puppet, to be controlled to suit its own needs.. Rathe glared at the child, but was unable to hold it, his features softening. It would not be here long. Either he would give it away out of fear, or give it away because of the same reason he alienated himself from most things he cared for. He could not be relied upon. Rathe sighed, sinking onto the bed. He had voiced the same the previous night, aloud to the child, and it almost had seemed to understand his words. There was a reason he had left Lyetra, he brought only blackness, misery and death to those he held overly close. The child, if he cared for it's fate at all, would have to be given to someone else. Ysith seemed willing to do this, and Rathe would speak with Moonheart today to o.k. the transferring of care of the child. Untill then, he could wait. The child would cause no harm.. Hopefully. -------------------------- Message 135 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 22 10:21:52 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Betrayals and befriendings It was amazing how double-sided a day could be, Coreen thought in the transport on the way home. She had both lost and gained allies..in the same day. Surely that meant something? Rathe... The one who had defended her against Khyber, Red and the others..suddenly was practicing mind control spells on her? Tsk, tsk...that wasn't very good. She had expected better of him...especially the way he looked at her. She had seen that look before, and used it to gain her many things in the past...perhaps he had simply realized his folly...however doubtful that seemed. She minutely regretted having to lose him...the elf was so useful...perhaps he could be useful again, but certainly not now. He was 'enjoying' his new powers as Magister... on her, no less.... That brought up another subject...Devon. She chuckled as she thought of how easily she could control him. She had him wrapped around her finger, and he didn't even realize it. THe only problem with him was that he was the one who gave the strand of her hair to Rathe for his little 'experiments'... he would have to go too.... Then, there was the ally she had made today...for whatever reason. Morrigan...some man that all believed dead, but was quite obviously alive... brought back from the netherworlds by Mistress Axelle, no less. The babbling lunatic in the lounge that all called a Seer seemed to think that her and this Morrigan's destiny were entwined somehow. He looked at her...not as other men had done...no, more of a studying look, the look of one dedicated to unravelling puzzles than any look of attraction... It was the look she hated most...people who thought that they could understand her, or 'help' her overcome her past. That fool magister, Devon, seemed to think that the key to her was by raping her mind... he was so clueless...But this stranger, Morrigan, seemed to have a certain flair or unpredictability that caught her interest. Her interest had been 'caught' before, and she had paid for it, but she couldn't help wanting to figure this man out. Especially when he came to her defence against Devon...a blade in his hands that seemed to exude a great deal of magic.... Yes, a useful ally indeed...even if she couldn't be clear on his motives.... -------------------------- Message 136 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 22 13:41:55 1997 EST From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Madness and Trees. Smoke lay stretched out on a large branch staring up at the velvet darkness that peaked through the leaves. Periodically she would glance over at the Magus Milamber, he hadn't spoken two words to her since she followed him thorough the portal. She had approached him in the R/T building to challenge him, to let him know she wasn't a pawn for him to toy with. She had ever intention to prove her point even if it meant death.. But Milamber just gazed down at her, the warmth of his eyes seemed to penetrate the darkness of her soul. He spoke to her with soothing words, words she could hear but not comprehend. Soon she was telling Milamber her fear of Kzin, about the madness that shadowed his face every time he came up from the basement. She told Milamber of Kzin's passion for torture and control and how Kzin lies to her, telling her there is no one in the basement. Even going as far as saying the muffled moans and screams that float up through the basement door are just her imagination. Sighing softly Smoke rolled over on her side and curled up in fetal position. The last thing she thought of before she slipped into sleep was the insanity in Kzins eyes. -------------------------- Message 137 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 22 13:51:03 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another day, another bizzare twist Rathe headed out of DarkReach tower, heading towards the wasteland gates. He did not return directly to Real/Time, he needed to walk. And think. Devon had been `teaching Coreen a lesson`, and Rathe had felt compelled to aid her, then restrain her from harming herself. He wasn't quite sure why. Surely she would not thank him, nobody thought much of Coreen, and nobody would shower him with praise for aiding her.. Devon was surely right in what he had done, and yet Rathe helped. Why did he bother? After the situation passed, Rathe had led Toraxyn, who was carrying the weakened and sleeping Coreen, to DarkReach. There, at Toraxyn's request for help, he drained away some of Toraxyn's energy, transferring it to Coreen and keeping a small amount as to return his own strength. He caused her to fall asleep, and rose, about to leave. He looked at Toraxyn, "I trust you learned something of all this? Some of the spells I wove should be of use to you, on a smaller level." Toraxyn nodded, "It has been quite educational, in many ways." Rathe smiled slightly, and reguarded Coreen's sleeping form. "Care is a dangerous thing to fall into, Toraxyn..." Studying Coreen a moment, Rathe sighed. "In many ways." -------------------------- Message 138 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 23 00:29:55 1997 EST From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: good day, weird night PG. Devon mused over the day, it was pretty simple he had spoken with Baltisaar in the morning about the reutnr of Morrigan, then later Coreen continued to plague him with insults about his wife. H edemonstrated his magely power, as the seeker Tor wove a minor air binding spell he acted releasing crimson tendrils of fire, they first burned her then start to rip through her flesh like a ripe husk. Devon finished his little spell by impressing thoughts into Coreen's mind, she called him a mind raper, he didn't care and felt totally in right judgement what he did to her. Coreen was felt with thoughts of being alone, and no hope, Devon thought that was a nice touch. the night rolled by into the next day Devon went down for some tea and the bar was nicely filled, most shocking though was Coreen, she looked nice, as in a fancy dress and had her hair up, she was even dread the thought... cute! Apparently Devon thought his spell had an affect a good one to that, feeling proud he watched the idle chatter roll by as the night progressed, Tor seemed to miss the old Coreen, Devon chuckled as he scanned for any enchantment though he knew perfectly well there was none. Plain and simple Devon had done a fantastic job, and his ego wasn't shrinking any either, he ambled home in a great mood and curled up next to Myst happy and content. -------------------------- Message 139 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 23 08:29:32 1997 EST From: Czynahn (#16898) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another day, another... She stared up at the ceiling again, growling quietly to herself. If nothing else, she wanted a long, hot soak in the Jizo bath house. Closing her eyes again, she knew there was nothing in the room she hadn't seen, counted, recounted, and lost total interest in. He hadn't returned in days. Food, there was always food, water, the things she needed for survival. It wasn't even 'bad' food, other than being as dull as all the other things in the tiny cell. Now and again, the shuffle of feet would be heard from above her head, there were people upstairs. She heard his voice, familiar to her for some time now, though since the past few days she would have known its tone and quality were she light years from him. There was another voice, strong, but decidedly female. It was a voice that seemed less than happy, asking about his 'toy'. -It seems I have an unwitting partner in this strange ordeal... perhaps she will twist him from that side, while I twist him from this- she thought, smiling to herself. -...or maybe I can just make enough noise at the right time... and... ah, yess. That _would_ be preferable.- Her soft chuckle rose to a demonic laugh. Almost sadly she recognized the silence that had collected above her, and no one would hear. "It is of little import at the moment... " she muttered darkly to herself. Glancing up at her blackened hands, she saw the smooth line of the scar on the palm of her left, and closed her eyes again. Without thinking, she curled her hand around the scar, the images of the day it was laid there flooding her mind unbidden, memories of the sweetness of that pain. He thought he gave her that kind of pleasure, and in some ways, he was wholly right. His power waxed and waned in her like the moon, as he came and went from the cell, or as his timed spells wracked her flesh with programmed responses she revelled in as they came, as much for the relief from the monotony of laying there in silence as any please they provided her. The scar was a brighter memory yet, for in all the long months since it marked her as owned, and owner, the feeling had yet to in any way fade. Its constant pulse against the mostly dead flesh of her hand was strong, undying, more permanent than any temporal or phyical sense she had ever known, more real than the shifting realities that surrounded her at any given time. When his will was strong over her, and he exerted that force, it -did- rival the binding. It faded, however, and made it weaker still in her eyes. He was still merely a man who wanted to be a god - an extraordinary man, perhaps, but he had a ways yet before he reached such a goal. -Of course- she thought, -I am also a woman who takes the greatest of pleasure in finding the faults in such 'gods'. While he is yet a man, I can influence him as a man... he knows little of what it takes to _truly_ ascend to godhood... more than power, which it what he yet fails to see.- She sighed quietly, sinking into the silken sheets of the bed. All was silent above, and she whispered into the silence, "Foolish pretenders. Someday they will realize... " and sunk into a peaceful sleep. -------------------------- Message 140 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 23 15:24:17 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Days. Akane glanced about the Great Hall, muttering under his breath. people had been allowed in the Spellsinger hall, because of a mere child? that was no excuse. The hall was supposed to be PRIVATE. only people that ever saw this place were The spellsingers, Red-Fang, and Thistle. or so he thought. mayhaps it was his old age getting to him.. or perhaps it was because of his Spellsinging brothers not wanting to study. he thought back to the day when he asked Ikaris to study for 3 days.. which also dismayed him more, for all Ikaris could think about was that Alluvia. Akane slammed Spellsong against the wall, the magical staff holding.. blue magic swirling on the silver runes. "Ikaris.. he must learn to think of other things aside from Wooing.." Ikaris finally did comply to study for 3 days.. but that was not Enough for Akane.. Akane had wanted him to keep on with the good work, but Ikaris seemed to dabble in it.. like Rathe did, only Magister Rathe was a good friend, and Akane did not mind him studying other forms of magic.. Akane sighed slowly, looking down on Spellsong, "I have failed you Robitham.." he murmured, "The Spellsong is not being learned as it should.." he then thought of Appalene, his Fiancee'.. how they would be married soon, and that she even knew the spellsong.. she didn't know much of Robitham, except by her elders. but perhaps.. the spellsong would sing again..if the ones who are learning it actually wish to. Akane climbed up the stairs, his back aching slightly from days of training, and of magic. Perhaps later on, he would teach Morrigan's Sister Mhairi... for she was his student now.. partially his responsibility. the young lass liked the hall.. and was honored to be Akane's student.. Akane then unlocked the door to his chambers, entering, undressing only to his pants and boxers. he crawled in beside the still sleeping form of Appalene, hugging her gently, and placing Spellsong on the floor beside him. [->End<-] -------------------------- Message 141 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 24 10:40:24 1997 EST From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: interesting evening. Devon hopped off the dragonsback and returned to his room, he knew not a cavern away there was a demon which could do god knows what. He thought back on the evening, it was too bad that Coreen's mind was back to normal, seems he'd done a very good job, she buried all those emotions of her past and hid inside herself. Rathe and him spoke for a while on Yara's two children, cambions, children of half demons and half humans. Rathe and him spoke of the twins, illustarating thei differences. The girl child, was angelic nice but like all camboiins adopted a protector, the protector would give their life if necessary to save the child. Devon knew Rathe was the protector but Rathe himself had either calmed down since becoming a magister, or the child was exerting some influence. The demon child was growing fast, clearly this one was evil, it had drained Alluvia's lifeforce and was going to continue doing this to others. While killing it, or draining it's power might work, all it took was a bleeding heart in the room to complain, and Rathe surely wouldn't be allowed to step on morlith, not eo mentiom magic didn't work up here. Plans, he had to contact a demon, a powerful one to answer his unleft questions, he'd not even summoned one this strong since his seeker days, and that particular incident led to some nasty siuations with his fellow gypsies. When he found out what he needed, he knew that the demons were two of the same part, they needed each other so if you hurt one you hurt the other. What he needed to know was how to make the girl stronger so that when the time came and the demon male wanted to devour her to gain control, how to make sure she won. Time was clearly of the essence as the boy got stronger daily, already a toddler when he was maybe under a month old. Devon shook his head realized he was thinking too much and may never get to sleep, he curled upto Myst not thinking that the foul creature could come into the cavern at anytime it wished. -------------------------- Message 142 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 24 15:13:13 1997 EST From: Dexter (#14882) To: *Storylines (#5236) Day in and day out, Dexter found himself hitting a routine that was drudgery. Scavenging waste dumps in his rad suit for spare parts, his robotic spider almost complete recreated purely from memory. A memory that should have faded more than 600 years ago. Dexter sighed to himself, the voices in his head were gone at last. But the memories could not go away. Memories of a Brooklyn that wasn't a tangle of blackened steel and wires. Memories of people, who only two years ago to Dexter, had been alive. People who were his family and friends. Dead. All dead now. The cool air of the Tech Order facility greeted him in much the same manner the world around him had, cold and relentless. He punched in the code to the storage facility which opened with a hiss. He found what he was looking for. After scrawling something on the back of his extensive notes, Dexter decided that the facility needed some redecoration. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger smearing what was left of his consciousness on the immaculate ceiling. -------------------------- Message 143 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 24 15:56:42 1997 EST From: Cheetah (#12402) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Well, That's a mess. Cheetah headed out the door of his office, thinking that he'd go wander about on Jizo island for a few hours, when lo and behold, it suddenly dawned upon him that something was different. New Paint? He thought idly, looking at the red wall, "Funny, didn't know anyone really cared for red in here.. And a rather odd paint job at that.. His gaze dropped to Dexter's corpse, just as Synge exited his office. Cheetah looked up, "Hullo, Guess you saw this?" Synge blinked at the corpse, "Oh my." Cheetah just nodded, staring at it with an odd fascination. "I suppose this means he won't be finishing that robot prototype..." -------------------------- Message 144 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 24 16:49:43 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wedding Announcement. All around the R/T complex, small little calligraphied notes were displayed. We formally Announce the Wedding Of Akane Masters and Appalene Shae'y To be held at the Great Hall area of the Spellsingers Hall, a few ways westward Of the Clearing in The Valley of Drach'nal. People who carry weaponry at the wedding will Be kindly escorted out of the front door. The wedding is to be held Friday (IRL) at 11:00 PM EST, or 8:00 PM PST. -------------------------- Message 145 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 25 01:01:01 1997 EST From: Nierika (#8571) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Trip Home They boarded a cargo plane in the still of the night, a small child-like woman figure and a creature on all fours. The air was a bit chilly and they huddled together for warmth. Nierika and Bhagheera were on their way home. Awful turbulence struck the aircraft in mid-flight and the plane plummeted to the ground, never to touch upon South American soil again. -------------------------- Message 146 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 25 15:25:06 1997 EST From: ARMX (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Reconstruction " ARMX flinched as it inserted the small fibre-optic probe into his ear cavity, where it slid effortlessly into an accessible area of his memory banks. Slowly he reached over and typed a single command phrase into the keypad located under his wrist, dermal plating. |+|Accessing Trinary Recovery Protocols.|+| |+|Probability of Success: 38.35812%|+| |+|Proceed?|+| |+|Compliance Noted. Executing Program.|+| " ARMX closed his eyes as a sequence of trinary data flowed across his vision, emerging from the sections of his memory cores that had been damaged before its activation. After a few moments, a strange sensation began to makes its way into his consciousness. A sense of....purpose emerged and ARMX could only smile as its memories slowly began to return. |+|Procedure Completed. 129.6 GB Recovery. 33% Memory Core Resolution|+| |+|Accessing Command Protocols......|+| |+|Loading Iteration X Directives|+| " Realization struck ARMX's consciousness as it contemplated the encoded directives of its creators. |+|Initiating Priority 1: Eliminate Reality Deviants|+| " With its directive set. ARMX activated its sweep mode sensors and strode towards the place known as the R/T Building. -------------------------- Message 147 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 25 21:17:35 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) 'Blast me.. blast Coreen..' Etra mubled to herself as she prepared for bed. She had been shuffling around in her bag, still regretting losing her temper in the lounge. She had nearly forgotten what started it all, when her hand brushed the small black stone in her bag. She pulled it out, holding it up to the dim light - it was a shame that such a pretty thing had caused her to doubt Yshar, even for a moment. She knew the 'plan' had been as much rathe's as it was Coreen's, and yet, she could not balem him as easily as she could Coreen. After all - Rathe had almost been caring about the whole thing, it was as if he had wanted her to see for herself yshar dancing with Coreen.. so that she would know, and not get hurt. Coreen was the one who had suggested other things, the one who had prodded Lyetra into a public outburst. Sometimes Etra's temper got the better of her, but she always hated it afterward. She sat down on the bunk, pondering the stone. Part of her wanted to cast it off of the Mount, and a smaller, dwindling, part told her that it ha been a gift of sorts from Rathe. he'd never given her a gift before. Yggy was right - she had to get over him *completely* before the wedding. It wouldn't be hard.. she was feeling much better about the situation already. Still, she knew a little piece of her would always be reserved for him. What if he came to the wedding? he wouldn't - too many dragons would be present... and it would be strange seeing him on Morlith.. He wouldn't come. She rubbed the stone, still wondering wether she should cast it away. Yshar would not - could not - lie to her. Not merely of his own heart, but with Tyzrath around.. Etra could always be sure of the truth of his words. She lvoed him.. and this petty game of Coreen and Rathe's would not work. She dropped the stone back into her bag (just for the time being...), and settled into her cot. Let Rathe come to the wedding.. if he couldn't stand happiness - if he couldn't comprehend forever - that was his trouble. She would be Yshar's bride, nothing could stop her. And nothing could stop her newfound love for him.. for Shar.. -------------------------- Message 148 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 26 07:50:02 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Chalk up another one It was a most enjoyable day. Coreen had found yet another weak link to exploit. The Rider Yshar was apparently getting married...and while he was strong, his bride was not. Coreen easily goaded Lyetra - the woman had a rather large temper - into a little verbal melee. Yshar even went so far as to draw his steel and try to warn her off. He would hurt his dance partner? He said that he danced with a different Coreen, the "Good" Coreen. She chuckled, reminding him that he had danced with this body, this mind, no matter who was in control. The two left shortly after, obviously tired of her words. So many weak links that she could exploit...Magister Devon's was the most enjoyable, however...she need only start to say something not so nice about his wife, and he would take immediate offense. Now she found Yshar's weak link...his wife to be. Interesting that...wives being the weak link to their warrior husbands. Coreen smiled to herself. She would never have that problem. Then, thoughts of her past, thoughts that had only risen up again after Devon's spells had rewired her brain, came to her mind again. She shoved them to the side roughly, filling her mind with the pain she would exact from Devon for his folly. She hated the fact that she could remember everything she did when her "good" self took over...she hated the fact that her "good" self existed at all and was allowed to manifest itself. In being nice, she felt as if she was betraying her parents, and most of all Lisa... Again she shoved the thoughts aside, replacing them with visions of Devon in pain...with her frying his mind with some spell or something...anything to push the visions away. She had worn her mother's dress and earrings...the only things she had left of her past... no! She pushed the visions of Devon back into her head, roaring flames now... The vision from Rathe's geode of her dance with Yshar assaulted her now... the flames rose higher, and higher...she stood at the center of it..watched Devon's face distort and melt with the heat... "He will pay for this," she thought, not noticing the small tear that rolled down her pale cheek. -------------------------- Message 149 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 26 13:55:15 1997 EST From: Shaelin (#18284) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lucky ... who the hell would name an animal that? Shae leaned back against the huge recomb who slept near her. There wasnt much room in the tiny cabin, even less when he sprawled out on the dirt floor. He slept like the dead anyways, she couldnt wake him if she tried. So she wasnt too worried about using him as a pillow of sorts. Company would be nice though, seeing as she couldnt sleep. Shae shifted slightly, letting her hand finger the necklace Lyk had given her the night before. He was always so cryptic, drove her nuts really.. but she was damn glad he was her friend. Especially last night. Things had really gotten out of hand with Izara and Harrison. Escalating to the point that Lyk had to draw his sword, *sigh* and use it. Red showing up was a bit of relief, not that Lyk couldnt defend himself, but it was nice to know someone was watching his back. Looking around the dark cabin, Shae watched dawn creep up. The lighter gray of the night showing through the gaps in the plank walls of the cabin. Hopefully today there would be no war with Izara. Just maybe she would leave Shae alone, at least as much as Shae left her alone. Shae sighed, "she'll leave me alone probably.. and just get someone else to harass me instead" Life is never boring, small bonus that it is. OOC : sorry if this is a lil choppy to read, spent WAY to much time awake with not enough time sleeping. -= Hope you caught a few ZZzzs Lyk=- -------------------------- Message 150 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 27 21:39:09 1997 EST From: ARMX (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Technology's Guide on how to Stir Fry A Magician ARMX continued to scan about itself as it stepped onto the lift that would take it to the round room of the R/T Building. For three days now, it had hunted the reality deviants its masters had programmed it to destroy. Already, it had eliminated three of them. They were weak beings, relatively unskilled with the vulgar magics they attempted to use. ARMX had dispatched them with relative ease. Upon stepping into the R/T Round room however, it found itself faced with a number of formidable opponents. At first, it had detected only one. As ARMX attempted to dispatch him, the target dodged its thrust and slammed a piece of wood against its shoulder. The force of the blow almost crushed its hydraulics. It was then, that ARMX realized that vulgar magics were being used. Before it could bring the proper forces to bear on the target, ARMX came face to face with the others. The first one to resist him was a tall man, dressed in some kind of strange mesh. ARMX's scanners identified the material as a form of synthesized polymer designed to absorb kinetic impacts on the molecular level. The man moved with a strange grace as he sliced into ARMX's chassis with his curved blade, while his feet impacted with him in rapid sequence. The next target was a strange being. Try as he could, his scanners could not match the target's biological profile with anything in its databanks. ARMX was especially, intrigued by the strange shape of the beings ears...long and pointed. The being slammed ARMX with several vulgar magic attacks utilizing the forces of air. Its last assailant was the most persistent of the bunch. His scanners identified her as a human female. She attacked him, grabbing him and conducting high amounts of voltage through his system. Only his insulation managed to protect him from having his Trinary processor rendered non-functional. When his operating capacity began to drop towards 74%, ARMX switched tactics and detonated its Primium Defense Grenades. (cont. In Technology's Guide Part II) -------------------------- Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 16:08:31 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 151 - 201 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 151 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 27 21:58:41 1997 EST From: ARMX (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Technology's Guide Part II The magic-soaking cloud of dust emitted from the detonated grenades immediately began to effectively counter several of the magical effects being used by the attacking targets. ARMX resumed its termination functions and randomly targetted one of the magically active beings in the room. His proton assault cannon punched clean through one of them. The being crumpled to the ground, a hole having been burned clean through his chest. ARMX observed that the downed target was blindfolded and seemed to be lacking the proper biological sensors for visual acuity. His tactic effectively removed one of the assailants from the fight, as the female hesitantly rushed to the side of her fallen comrade to employ her magics in healing him. The other two men continued their attack, now employing mundane means. ARMX was able to graze the armored man with his Proton Assault Cannon, but fell victim to the mans katana as it blurred with seemingly inhuman skill to sever its arm. |+|Structural Damage Detected. Proton Assault Cannon Non-Functional|+| |+|Survival Probability?|+| he queried. |+|Survival Probability: 35.6%|+| " The second target attacked him, trying to pierce his hydraulic pressure line, behind the joint of its right knee. The target's attack failed barely, and at this point ARMX decided upon a strategic retreat. As it lost its other arm, ARMX initiated its visual blinding tactic, but not before the female target returned to the fight, leaping at him with her electrified hands. ARMX screamed as she fried his memory backups with a surge of pure electricity. In a reflex of desperation, ARMX kicked her off of itself and threw her into a nearby wall. Just as it stepped onto the lift platform to escape, the armored man recovered and slashed it one last time with his extended katana, slicing through one of his trinary data relays. Limping badly, ARMX was scarcely able to escape to the wastes. A post-combat analysis revealed that he had functioned at only 57% efficiency against his opponents. Determined not to fail a second time, ARMX began drafting new modifications to its basic chassis. When it would meet with the deviants again, ARMX was sure that it would be more prepared....... -------------------------- Message 152 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 28 12:43:27 1997 EST From: Haefen (#16887) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *mages (#11664) Subject: Life Times have never been worse... My studies in magic have fallen way short of its time, effort, and capability. Feeling of despair, and anguish has fell over him. His friends, he doesn't know as much anymore. To many changes, not enough time to cope witht the changes. Appalene and Akane getting married, Akane and rathe becoming magisters, flunking devon's quest to become his student, and everything else. The feeling of energy and the feeling of rebelish attitudes and know his far to much drinking , have made it worse. And regretting a kill he's done with the help of his crow, and then finally he regrets not being able to see all the people at the wedding tonight. To many enemies, and friends will be their, and to much drinking which may not do much. I'll stay in a hotel tonight getting drunk will not help me at all. -------------------------- Message 153 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Mar 28 15:44:18 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Preparations and thoughts.. Lyetra sat bent over her harp, her ear close to the strings. She plucked several chords - sounding out which one fit the verse the best. It had been so long since she had composed in earnest.. and she couldn't help but see this as perhaps the most important song in her life. It was, after all, most of the wedding vows. She smiled to herself, thinking of the wedding, and miraculousy finding the perfect chord... she added in a twinkling descent on the higher strings. It was an air both solemn and sprightly, and it tugged at her heart simply to hear it - even in it rough state. Yshar was proud of her. He had been moved by her verse, and had smiled at her as she had troubled over the tune on the ledge. He had told her the night before that the eggs were to hatch soon. Everything was going right for once... even last night in the lounge, in the face of so many who hated dragons - she and Yshar had kept their cool. Etra understood, though only a small amount, why some folk must feel harshly toward riders... but Morlith was made of nobler stuff. She reemembered Rathe's stories about the burning valley... he had lost his family. It had driven him to try to 'save' Yara. In her distraction, she sounded a sour chord and winced. She resettled her mind around the music.. envisioning herself in a wedding gown.. flowers in her hair. Playing the harp at the ceremony.. and being Yshar's wife. Her dead love had given his blessing.. she had remained calm in the face of Rathe's student (he had accused her of pinin over Rathe, not precisely true.)... she was surrounded by the walls of rock.. Morlith, her home. Calm settled over her, and she slipped into a familiar, soft tune. She played to the breeze, to the sky, to the coming srping. Her wedding day would be here soon enough.. and her bondmate, too. ..'Destiny will have its way'.. Syyrl had told her so in her dream. She couldn't be happier. -------------------------- Message 154 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 29 17:48:25 1997 EST From: Cyllan (#16047) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lizards Cyllan coughed and waved away the fumes from the big flying things, they made such noise too.. but they seemed to heat the hanger with their cooling bodies. She smiled happily, this was an amazing place. She was glad she came. That lizard couldnt slip past her here and she would follow him again. He was very nice, he helped her make a water bottle. She hugged her prized possession to her chest, that woman was nice, she knew the value of the water bottle .. And STIL she gave it back. Cyllan was glad she trusted her. 3 nice people, who would have thought the world held so many. The beautiful tall woman had given her food, it wasnt good she was fighting the lizard though. Komodo.. that was his name..she would remember now. Cyllan smiled, and he knew her name. He followed her hand movements, clumsily ( talons prolly do that ) but he did it.. she hoped he knew it was -Cyllan-. There were letter she no longer knew. So she made her own. Even though there was no one to talk to..not how she talked anyways... Cyllan brushed the thought away and waited. That liza .. Komodo would come soon enough. -------------------------- Message 155 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 29 19:50:06 1997 EST From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Seen in the skies over the R/t An awe-inspiring and bone chilling sight was observed in the early dawn light by someone on the R/T helipad. Seven winged skeletons in formation appeared from the clouds then vanished again. Where they were headed is not known. -------------------------- Message 156 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 30 00:52:12 1997 EST From: Czynahn (#16898) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another day in oblivion (R, at best guess) She had lapsed into her pattern of long sleep again, but the struggling beside her woke her again. The warmth of the flesh at her side did not crackle with the same insistent energy as the Magister's always had, instead, there was a feminine softness to the sensation, and she opened her eyes to find another woman bound by her side. Varied emotions tangled through her mind as she assessed the situation. The Magister was sliding a blade between the woman's ribs, the blood slipping off her skin to stain the sheets beneath her own back. The thought of the blood of this new trophy clinging to her own skin repulsed and attracted her at once, the natures within her silently at war. He chuckled down at her where she lay, telling her the one who lay beside her was a paid assignment. She chuckled darkly, "Oh, and I suppose you simply took me out of a need to prove something? What in... " -hell do I even care? At least this alleviates the monotony- she thought, finishing her words only in her own mind. Another thrust of the blade caused the form beside her to growl, then shudder and go still, the warm blood still pooling beneath her own back. All the while he talked to someone over the line, mocking the corpse beside her. She laughed, calling him an amatuer, as he had failed to find the threshholds of tolerance of his new toy. "Of course, she isn't a willing target, as I am, Magister... " she muttered, a self satisfied smile at her lips. It was not as if she wished the stranger's death, yet she felt it deeply satifying to see him slip up in such a simple way. Soon enough, she would drive him to a similar mistake in her own case, or find a way to anger the owner of the female voice that wandered the boards above her head. She would have her freedom when the game grew truly tiresome, of that she had no doubt. He was fallible, and his desperate revival of his new victim's tortured flesh was simply more proof that soon enough... -------------------------- Message 157 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 30 03:15:57 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Amusement Sitting on the edge of his bed, Rathe gazed over at Rosa, The small child whom had been entrusted into his care.. A Cambion, Rosa was half demon. The link, symbiotic, or, as Rosa had suggested, from a common heritage, drew his thoughts to her constantly, her messages filling his mind constantly. Sometimes, it seemed he might go mad from all of it.. But his sanity remained intact, and Rosa remained in his room, in her small crib, staring at him with eyes that held far too much intelligence and wisdom for one but a couple months old.. Aye, Rosa was no mere child. Rathe's mind wandered, and he reflected on the events of not half an hour ago. Toraxyn.. He sought immortality, and before Rathe's eyes, it was granted him.. The price would indeed be terrible. Would Toraxyn accept the price? Servitude to the fates? Did he have any choice, now?...No, he probably did not.. He was cursed.. "May the fates be with him", Rathe chuckled aloud, "May the fates be with him.. For now he will never escape them." -------------------------- Message 158 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 30 14:02:23 1997 EST From: Toraxyn (#19315) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dealing with fate Toraxyn stared into the pale flesh of his palms, confused with a mixture of shock and livid realization. Not an hour ago he had stood before Rathe in the greenroom firmly, ready to throw away his apprenticeship, his friendship, all for his quest. Rathe had demanded he return the memories he had taken from Ylise in her little 'torture session' of him earlier, but he could not. They were far too valuable to him, they spoke of one who had not thrown his gift away as this Lise had. He knew what was for him to do, and he set out to accomplish it, gaining his own immortality. He tossed his friendship with Rathe to the wind. >From behind him, Ylise then spoke. A small, terse comment fell from her lips, "They have granted your wish." Toraxyn spun around to question her, but instead he simply gazed into the gentle fire that danced in her eyes. Realization struck him a second later when every conscious thought in his mind was torn to the surface, as vivid as if it was the day before. He crumbled to his knees, screaming, eyes widened as his body was forced through an incredible change. Old scars healed, his mind torn asunder and rejoined many times, and his internal organs churned into new positions. He screamed again, not of pain or of fear, but a scream in which every portion of his humanity cried out in vain. The change completed, the soft grass touched his face. Her soft words came to him again, whispering of servitude to the fates, eternal bondage, and holding the destiny of mankind in his sights. His wish had been granted, of not his own accord, but it was nonetheless. Before Ylise left, she spoke once more, voice filled with hate. "Now you are truly The Observer." -------------------------- Message 159 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 30 17:45:08 1997 EST From: Remembrance (#13681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Persistent Persecution Rem vaguely knew when Solitude stuck his head into her study, the small loft room he had converted from her son's bedroom. She didn't acknowledge him tho, keeping her thoughts on the study of the tome before her, concentrating to grasp the concept of this last bit of knowledge. Once finished, she put the book away and decided she would go to the R/T, Soli would be there if not with his mech. When she arrived at the Lounge, she found Soli and another Mech Pilot arguing and exchanging insults. She took a wine from Oz and shortly after, Red Fang and the Magister Kzin entered, blocking the door per usual. Soli tensed up beside her, or maybe that was her own tenseness, but after moments of senseless prattle and whispering among the two, kzin entered further into the room, toward her and Soli. She stood and as the magic threads began to grow around her hands, Kzin struck out with katana and knocked her out. Rem woke to find herself in some danl, cold cell, ties hand and foot to a bed, some other female asleep or unconcious and naked beside her. Kzin spoke out, "Death by pain or pleasure?" Kzin told her Red wished her tortured long and painfully before allowed to die. No quarter given. He then lay upon her body and began his cuts, first a small taste, cutting into her throat, the blood trickling to the back of her neck, encircling her throat liek a garnet necklace. Remaining silent, seemed to egg Kzin on, for then he cut downward to between her breasts, chanting some magical incantation, his knife began peeling her flesh from her ribs. Gritting her teeth from screaming, she remembered old teachings and taking several deep breaths to focus, she stopped her heart, letting her spirit go free, to cut short the pleasure kzin was taking on her. This was short lived, for her spirit was pulled back, and with an inhuman scream returned her to awareness. Kzin then told her Soli had bargained to gain her back, then knocked her out once more. The next she knew she Aries towered over her, she lay in Soli's arms and magister Rathe was standing by, saying she should not antagonize Kzin. Confusion, for what had she done to antagonize the other Magister? Solitude carried her home, placed her in bed and checked her for injuries. She slowly drifted to sleep, safe once more in his arms. But that too was not to be granted her, for the dreams came, horrors of possession, claws raking at her body, her spirit. She woke screaming and tore at the flesh over her heart as the searing pain began, then quickly spreading thru her veins as if her blood had been replaced by some form of acid. She screamed and tore at her own flesh, trying to open her veins, to ease her suffering, then slowly it faded, leaving her exhausted, drained. Soli held her, his eyes frantic, making her tell of what had happened in Kzin's cell and of her dreams and the burning pain. She knew it was some form of spell..a residual of Kzin's incantation, more she didn't know. Soli asked her of other mages, and was going to take her to Dixie, thinking that the non-magical area might strip the spell from her, allowing her to sleep and rest. She told him of the Magisters she knew of and he began calling, finding Devon, who was willing to help. Solitude balked at Devon's 'easy' way to rid her of the spell, death, a visit and return from the Eagle. It was the fastest and easiest solution, she couldn't blame Devon for not wanting to go thru the exhaustion of hours of magical rituals and work that it would entail, and even then not knowing if it would succeed. Devon told her to close her eyes, and soon it would be over. She woke in her bed, Soli and Devon standing over her. The Magister left, saying he wished to speak with her in a few days and Soli held her as she slipped back into a normal sleep, freed from the horror. -------------------------- Message 160 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 07:30:51 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Take over of the R/T building Supieror forces from the clan of the Wolf stormed the R/T building taking complete control of the entire building, God is locked up in his little office and the ransom for his release is HIGH! Oz was quite happy to cooperate seeing he's seen nothing but mush in the lounge lately. Lazer Canons are in place on the roof of the building and any living dragon will be shot on site! Uruken is most welcome to join the party. Several guards with anti tank weapons are posted at the sandlock and any mechs that are unfriendly will be wearing new holes in them. On a second note, the new color for Subbies is PINK! all subbies caught not wearing Pink will be shot on sight! Lord emperior of the Wastes! Red Fang -------------------------- Message 161 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 07:37:28 1997 EST From: Red-Fang (#5907) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: *CHUCKLES* APRIL FOOLS!!! -------------------------- Message 162 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 13:12:38 1997 EST From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sorrow Rain poured down over the land, weeping its own tears over the dragon's death. The clouds that had hovered over the Motherland for the past week were almost black on this day. Inside the palace, there was an unbelievable sadness, stillness. Aislyn lay curled up with the remaining dragon, silent prayers unspoken. She willed this chameleon to stay healthy, unlike its twin. Her eyes wandered over the dulling scales and knew in her heart, however, that his peril would come soon. The court was busy with her father -- she knew that they were trying to save the dragon's soul. She could not bear to watch the process, by now they were probably descaling the corpse. This loss weighed heavily upon her, and she sought comfort with the chameleon twin. She would do all the she could to save this one from the mystifying sickness. -------------------------- Message 163 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 13:32:34 1997 EST From: Mercury (#16576) To: *Storylines (#5236) Oh no! For a minute Mercury actually thought something happened around here. Mercury go smash things. -------------------------- Message 164 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 13:50:29 1997 EST From: Serenio (#19730) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Tea time Trying to control her laughter as she pulled three mid sized mushrooms from her bag. "A magnificent find indeed" she mumbled. She worked quietly but quickly as she prepared for the ceremony. Glancing now and again at the sleeping body on her bed, knowing if he awoke he could over take her with his powers. She thought back over the nights events as she worked. Running into the Spellsinger on New Orleans, how he was alone and unprepared for her attack. Not like the time before, fist his wife with her useless babbling, then that damn bloodmage. Both interfering allowing the Spellsinger to escape. She frowned slightly thinking of the bloodmage *he will defiantly pay for his melding once Im through with the spellsinger* She wondered over to the bed watching the human sleep, leaning close brushing her lips soflty against his ear she whisperd , "Once you wake my love it will only take minutes for the tea made from the mushrooms to work, once your mind has travled to that lecherous state...you will be mine, allowing me to take what I need......." -------------------------- Message 165 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 15:21:49 1997 EST From: Mercury (#16576) To: *Storylines (#5236) Stout Mercury stood at the top of the stairs, reading his E.E. Cummings as Lord Red-Fang called up to him. "Will ye be playing cricket today?" "Nay..." Mercury sighed in his lilting voice, "I fear I must have tea with the Countess and I just dread that." Adjusting his fragile spectacles (made from Very Fine Gold and Crystal from Sotheby's), he stepped out to greet a new day. All along the route, the flashing colors of the glorious dragons and their riders abound in all the glory of spring. Mercury could only help but smile and pass along his fondest greetings. "Tis such a lovely day, perhaps I'll skip tea with the Countess and have a visit with that lovely courtesan." After a most vigorous session with Lady Sandra, master of speech and other oratory skills, Mercury found himself lost in a most dreamy state of mind, "Perhaps I'll write a novel after my nap", the large gentleman thought as he drifted off to sleep. -------------------------- Message 166 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 15:22:04 1997 EST From: Mercury (#16576) To: *Storylines (#5236) April Fools -------------------------- Message 167 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 17:07:39 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: .... Akane laid on the floor of some room, barely able to move.. his head throbbed with pain, disabling any attempts at meager concentration. he could mentally feel where the deep cuts from the cat-o-nine tails were, blood clotted in patches. The day wasn't going very well it seemed.. he had met up with this strange girl along two nights before. he thought her harmless, her attempts at what seemed to be "flirting" not really phasing him. that is, until she "commanded" him to follow her. chuckling under his breath, he followed, telling Appalene it wouldn't be long. There.. Serenio blocked him in, and he instinctively drew spellsong.. but almost suddenly, the magical smell of a ward creeped past him.. his weapon would be useless, as would be his magic, so he was forced to listen. the young girl talked of how she wanted Appalene's child.. which Akane thought strange, for neither him nor Appalene thought Appalene with child.. but with all that aside, his anger grew.. and she merely smiled, telling her if he did not give up the child to her.. she would kill them all, and take the child. Akane tried to compromise, throwing his own life at the girl so that she wouldn't take the child.. but she merely laughed, and seemed to be thinking.. then the rest of the memory was a painful darkness. he then tried to remember more, and the vivid image of him and Appalene lying down in his chambers came to him.. how he walked out, after kissing his wife on the forehead softly. Spellsong rested in his hands, blue magic flickering slowly along the silver runes.. and we walked to new orleans, saying a slight blessing to all the dead souls in the graveyard area. He placed his staff on his back, and did a little ritual, nothing spectacular, but that had been his error.. for The young girl showed up again, this time while Akane was alone and defenseless. they talked, and The she decided she wanted him.. and lashed the whips out at him.. blood flowing ever so freely from 4 head wounds.. he staggered, straining to look past the crimson curtain of blood covering his eyes, and fell to the ground unconcious.. the rest was also a painful darkness, white lights inside his brain causing him to wince in mental agony.. he could not even raise a hand it seemed.. he lay still, gazing up at sharp projections on the ceiling, pointed down at him.. water dripping slightly on his face. -------------------------- Message 168 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 17:50:52 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hmm Hey, how come no alien women ever whip me and drag me off to thier rooms? Damnit Akane, You get all the fun :) Grinning, --Rathe -------------------------- Message 169 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 1 19:43:48 1997 EST From: Lyetra (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: *sigh* Lyetra stood on the walkway which overlooked the valley, and huged herself against the breeze. BIrds flew below her, and she was at war with herself. Going down off of Morlith was not all it was cracked up to be, these days... she was seriously considering never returnin to the R/T again. Too many bad memories hung in the air like clouds waiting to descend upon her. She'd gone down.. in an attempt to prove her strength to herself really. To not seem to constantly need Strafe at her side. There were far too many people there to bein with.. Rathe and Coreen.. Rathe's student Toraxyn. but she'd seen Traxsu, which was nice. Then, Anansi showed up. He'd tried some of his usual disgusting tricks - stabbing Coreen, and creating a huge fray. Then, in a blind and bloody rage, had lunged for her throat. Rathe had stopped him. Tripped him up with magic - though Toraxyn had been prepared too (she should have expected at least that much, what with all of his flirting.) When they'd cleared away Anansi's bleeding self, she'd been more tahn ready to go. She suspected Az'yrri was waiting for her anyway. She thanked Rathe, and was saying her goodbyes to Traxsu and Alluvia when Rathe stopped her with a question. 'Mind if I show up at the wedding?' he asked. He actually asked her if he could be present! She ahd fumbled, awkward - already shaken - and finally gathered herself and asked him to step into the other room. He genuinely wanted to attend, and he vowed (/Rathe's vows.. heh/ she allowed herself a bitter little chuckle, but then shoved it away) that he would cause no trouble. She carefully laid out the rules, him and him alone. Uncloaked, no weapons, no 'friends' no students (certainly not that lech Toraxyn). Rathe. That was all. And he wasn't to disturb a thing. He was smiling.. he was *normal* with her. As if they were friends! Likee so many, many months before they'd loved. He had agreed to be civil to her.. no more ignorin her. She sighed, remembering her promise to him that she would see to it that Shar wasn't angry. There would be no bloodshed on her wedding day. She had offered her hand to him then, to shake on it like friends. For an instant, she thought he was going to kiss it.. then he shook and strode out of the room. She settled on the rocky floor, putting her harp at the ready.. and then played through the wedding ballad as she'd finished it the night before. She knew now, having been faced with Rathe (with the Rathe she had known, not the cold Rathe, but her friend) that she truly loved Yshar, and wouldn't change her lot for anything. She washed her regret and sorrow away in the lilting notes of her vow-song. IN the words of her heart ... o/~ Clouds go whistling o'er our heads.. Love in my throat a song to you, And dragons shining at our shoulders; Lovelorn, love lost, love found anew... ~\o -------------------------- Message 170 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 2 01:27:05 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Dreams It came again, the dream that seemed to plague his nights too often. The dragons as they descended upon his home, killing his kindred, those he called brothers and sisters. Fire swept the forest, lightning struck the same place much more than twice, and fallen creatures were found encased in ice, others only partially there.. Eaten by the flying lizards. But this time, the dream was different. Images of the Sarkus and of Brinn, of what was shown to him within the Air Point of Power. Embryon being the cause for the maddened dragons attacking his home. Rathe now saw over the dark one's shoulder, at the viewing window, seeing the dragons which he controlled destroying Rathe's home. Next came the image of Embryon, back turned, facing the corpse of a dragon and rider. Now embryon again casting a spell, sending the dragons against one another. The meaning was clear: Morlith had not been responsible, Embryon had.. But could this be trusted? The dream became lucid for a few moments, as Rathe seemed to consider this. Did the child, Brinn, lie? He could not know.. With that, the cycle began anew, once more the dragons streaked down from above... -------------------------- Message 171 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 2 16:03:07 1997 EST From: ARMX (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Even Machines Feel Pain " ARMX lay half buried in the sand of the wastes as it contemplated its current situation and how it had arrived at it. It had been a fairly standard hunt. He had managed to track the subjects Rathe and Morpheus to a lounge in the R/T Building. He had attacked both, this time seeking to employ the improvements it had made to its chassis. In particular, ARMX had abandoned its Primium Defense Grenades in favour of an assault shotgun system using primium slugs as a means of countering the deviants' abilities. " Initially, it succeeded in downing the one named Morpheus, and after several depletions of its system integrity, the one named Rathe as well. It was taken completely by surprise however, when a third deviant seemed to intervene on behalf of the Subject Morpheus. This previously unrecorded deviant attacked him with a ferocity and ability that ARMX had never before faced. Smashing it with water blasts, this strange female succeeded in reducing its structural integrity to critical levels. The final blow came when the deviant known as Morpheus, recovered enough to hurl a sword through its back as it attempted to escape. " In desperation, ARMX initiated a system shutdown. The tactic seemed to work as it survived long enough to reactivate itself later and escape. ARMX managed to reach the wastes until it encountered a towering mechanical lifeform. Its profile did not register in ARMX's memory as anything recognizable, so its default property was set to a neutral status. When the strange lifeform attacked it, ARMX was quick to re-evaluate the organism as hostile. Two simple blows, was all it took, as ARMX's structural integrity and cognitive functions reached a critical status. In desperation, ARMX initiated its emergency spacial mutations drive. The resulting backlash from the drive's power drain slammed through it, frying ARMX's power relays even as his position in spacial reality was altered (teleportation). " ARMX could only laugh at his misfortune as his vision began to blur and his overall systems began to fail. Already, the components supporting his biological functions began to fail, one by one. As its consciousness began to flee, ARMX silently hoped that one of the Iteration X forces would find it and repair it. Shadows closed in rapidly.......dropping him into the pit of oblivion. -------------------------- Message 172 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 2 17:23:34 1997 EST From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: RATED: PG 13 (Young Children MOOer under 13 must be accompanied by an adult) Akane sat on the edge of the bed.. it was all he do to not draw his knife, and slice his wrists open.. he wondered if the Eagle would accept him like it did Master Robitham.. But he sighed, fresh tears burning at his eyes.. he didn't sleep for the night.. quietly watching the sleeping form of Serenio.. wondering if he had done the right thing by saving her from his wife and the fool Student of Rathe's.. but he had made a deal with Serenio.. a geis mayhaps. so she would not kill Appalene, and her unborn child.. but the deal came at a heavy price.. Appalene left the hall, for lord knows how long.. even Serenio wishing to leave the hall, and give Akane back his life.. but why.. why did he do such for her? she had drugged her, seduced him.. even tortured him with the lusts of the body. but, Akane knew she could be changed.. and damned if he weren't going to try and change her.. he sipped on some of Serenio's tea.. taking a small vial of it from her pouch.. he knew it was drugged, but he did not care.. the mind numbing effect of the drug only made him feel better, for his emotions dampered, and thoughts of this whole ordeal faded into blackness.. he looked down at the book Appalene had given to him as a wedding gift.. with the inscriptures she had personally wrote.. a tear fell as if in slow motion from his eye, hitting the paper with a splotch.. he closed the book, and put it back in his bag, sipping more of the tea.. the colors of the room swirling into mere nothingness.. perhaps today.. he will make Appalene see reason. -------------------------- Message 173 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 3 09:38:28 1997 EST From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: Worhty! Worthy! Worthy! Ylaerin sat in the hatchery, the little sapphire's head in her lap. He was crooning sweetly - he'd a lovely voice - and Ylaerin was enraptured with him. She could barely beleive what had happened the night before.. it was all so wonderful. After months of waiting, including a few very anxious weeks, she and Yshar had gone to the hatchery to check the egg. Yggy was there, and he swore he saw an egg wiggle. Lyetra almost couldn't beleive it, but then... she indigo egg had begun to rock and wobble. As she watched, her heart soaring, the little sapphire had tumbled out. She was frozen for a moment, but remembered that Brinn had told her this hatchling would find her Worthy. She went slowly to it... she almost didn't dare beleive that Brinn's words had been true - so much had happened. So much good had been taken from her.. but Yshar and Yggy and everyone had promised her that happiness was on its way, and Brinn's prophecy had to be true. As she stroked the hatchling, her dreams raged in her head. All the dreams she'd ever had of flying dragonback, of being soulbonded... her little sister Aerin's wish to see a dragon.. her sisters dream-request for Lyetra to take her name. She'd had the dreams ever since she'd floated up out of the fever... and she wished violently for them to be true. She'd been stroking the sapphire, almost in a daze, when he began to croon at her.. and insistent hum. And for a moment, she wondered what was wrong with him. Was he hurt? He was staring fixedly at her, spreading his wings, and humming louder. Then he spoke, "Worthy!" She just stared at him, dumbfounded, and full of joy and pride and hope. Yshar nudged her, "Accept.." he muttered at her. And then it spilled out of her, she must have said 'yes' a hundred times.. both in Gaelic and English. He was hers.. she was his.. this bright blue bundle of mischeif and curiosity. And as she smiled down at his dozing face, she knew that Yshar and Yggy had been right; happiness was here. Was hers.. was blue scales and wedding jigs... At last. -------------------------- Message 174 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 4 08:48:13 1997 EST From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: Wedding Announcement Seen posted in the R/T lounge and also on the Morlith bulletin board: A peice of fine ivory parchment, with graceful gold lilies and green ivy leaves inked around the border. Immaculate calligraphy reads... Yshar, Rider of Tyzrath, and Ylaerin {Lyetra} Orynx, newly chosen, joyously announce their upcoming wedding. Ceremonies will take place on May 1, 2638 in the gardens of Mount Morlith. All Riders and their dragonfriends are invited to attend if they wish. Any guests from off Morlith will only be admitted by previous invitation, and will have dragon escort from Real/Time to Mount Morlith. Everyone is kindly asked to leave their weapons at home. We hope your joy mirrors our own... and those attending should come prepared to dance and be merry! OOC: The wedding is *said* to be ICly taking place May 1, but due to extenuating circumstances, may not actually fall on said IC date. OOCly, it will be taking place on April 13th.. A week from this coming Saturday. And I've got to pinpoint a time, so stay tuned for clarification. -------------------------- Message 175 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 4 09:26:49 1997 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A slow-broiling fury Coreen sat on the sands of Jizo Beach, hoping vainly that the crashing surf might calm her so that she could sleep. But it could not... A little mini-rex stepped over to her and cautiously sniffed her hand, and she pet it gently. Eventually, she managed to coax it into her lap, and pet it while it watched the waves. Toraxyn....she could not rid her mind of his words...he had become one of those foolish types that wanted to puzzle her out. He was one of those who tried to coax her "back to the good path" of life, "seeing the hope within her." Pure nonsense. When she tired of his stupidity, she couldn't even teach him a lesson...she struck at him, but still he continued, telling her that "this wouldn't change the truth." Of course it wouldn't! Nothing could change the fact that her parents were dead, and she watched them die and joined in their suffering, but not their release. He didn't understand...he thought it had been a conscious choice, that she was trying to protect herself from emotional injury. Oh, how she had tried to do that long ago, but nothing had worked...every night she had seen the faces of her parents in their last moments of life. She knew the truth. She knew that the world was capable of unspeakable cruelty, cruelties that she had not even considered, let alone experienced. She merely adapted herself to the world..."When in Rome," she thought. She had hoped that, after seeing the looks Toraxyn gave her, the slips he had made, that he would turn out to be a useful ally, or at least a "friend." But that was not going to happen, now... She felt the mini-rex squirm in her lap, and she realized that she had her arm wrapped around its neck and was squeezing. She quickly released it, and it hopped away from her to a safe distance, watching her closely. Everything that was close to her died...it was always thus. The mini- rex had almost come to realize that. She stood up, fury within her again. She would not sleep tonight. She kept thinking about revenge... Yes, perhaps Toraxyn could prove useful after all...She would teach him not to meddle with her mind, just as she would teach the foold Magister Devon...the question was only how...? The mini-rex gave up trying to puzzle out her motives and scampered away. Amazing how lower lifeforms could be so much more intelligent than their higher cousins... -------------------------- Message 176 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 4 21:47:26 1997 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Note tacked to the wall in the R/T Lounge For Sale: (2) Shotguns (1) Hockey stick (1) Water bottle Contact Rathe on your communicator for further info. -------------------------- Message 177 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 6 09:58:29 1997 EDT From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: More pestering Toraxyn. Again. He was trying again. Coreen could barely believe it. She had seen that look before, heard the words, seen the actions. He was in love with her. She sighed. So many fools before him had tried such foolish games, but had met with a cold blade. Poor kid. He was too foolish. She had even slapped him around, burned him...and still it did not dissuade her. He was as stubborn as that Rider, Yshar... Then there was Rathe....all of a sudden saying that she would be a worthy candidate for Magister, and that he wanted her as a student? Had the world gone mad overnight?!! All the bitterness that had once been directed at her was now turned into happiness and care...it was driving her nuts.. not the emotions themselves, but the rapidity of the switch. Was she getting soft? That couldn't be it... What to do eluded her. She was opening up to this foolhardy kid... that would have to stop. She was half-drunk last night anyways...she'll let it slide. From now on, only water if Toraxyn was anywhere within a mile of her. She would not let this little kid take advantage of her. Still, she needed a way to break his heart, or otherwise dissuade him. Perhaps if she returned to her old ways...if he walked in and found her in the arms of another, he would be less likely to drop down on that bloody knee and profess emotions to her that she could no longer feel. Yes, that was it...still, she needed a little more assurance that he would no longer bother her... -------------------------- Message 178 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 6 12:38:18 1997 EDT From: Mhairi (#16533) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Studies She sat in the almost quiet of the Spellsinger Hall's dormitory, trying to convince herself that the occasional snore drifting up from one of the surrounding bunks had something to do with music of the spirit. "I donna thenk I's e'er goen' to fin' a place where someone essen' makin' some sort o' noise," she sighed, trying to convince herself for the hundredth time that night that the noise was what kept her awake, and had done so for the previous few nights. Studies with her master were quickening in pace, though she was nearly certain that that wasn't the cause of her ditress again, that she wasn't still afriad of going mad one time too many and never coming back. "Ess loss what does that... " she murmured into the darkness, realizing she spoke into silence. With a heavy sigh, she turned over in the bunk, hating the fact that once again the silence proved to her that noise was not the only thing keeping her from her rest. Her older brother had returned, her nephew had said - had returned with no memory of her, or the rest of his family, save his wife and children that she had never met. Then there were the children. How strange it seemed to her that in this time of strange technology and 'free' magic, that she could be needed as a midwife. In some ways, it reminded her that magic or no, she could provide some useful service to those around her if necessary. She remembered the bright eyes of the tiny submariner girl as she handed them to the child's tired mother, who glowed with happiness and relief that only seemed to come at such times. It gave her a small measure of peace in the remembering of it. Then there was Rosa, who spoke to Rathe, it seemed, and was watched by the rider, who, it seemed, the child feared. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that whatever she could do in that matter would have to come over time, and there was little she could do in this hour of quiet, when nothing around her stirred. "All these 'alf realities are b'ginnin' to drive me... " she broke off her words, cursing her lack of perceptions. What she did not conciously wish to realize was that to expand them, she would have to conquer that fear of madness, and send herself headlong into that fear... ..of course, that was still safer than the option of delving further into her other natural talents... It was another night without sleep. -------------------------- Message 180 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 6 21:14:12 1997 EDT From: Lamia (#3623) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Somewhere in the desert.. Burning, unrelenting sciroccan winds. Flying sand obscuring the stars, stinging her eyes and making her see 2 wan moons where she knows there can only be one.. but a dreamscape will invent itself from second to second, so she supposes. The wind sears into her uplifted hand, hot teeth tearing into the soft flesh.. limning it in tongues of blue flame.. the smell of hot metal. A living crucible of pain cradling her, making the moons blink off. She cries out in agongy, cries for help, calls pleadingly to her friend sleeping in the tent just a few yards from the dimension she now lies in, bleeding and broken. The feeble sounds she makes are sheared and swallowed whole by the hungry wind. A lulling, crooning begins. Coming from everywhere, coming from nowhere, coming whole and disembodied in a dervish of sand. Slowly, the melodic sounds resolve into words. Each chimes with crystal accuity. Each, alone, a separate epiphany. As each is uttered, the waves of pain recede further.. until its burning teeth savage only her left hand. The voice whispers, "mariner, mariner, you know how to quench this fire." "You have always known. Heal yourself." "Immortality isn't your fate, nor the reward of conceited fools who think they serve fate. It is the gift of the Eagle.. "and the Eagle can withdraw it. Even now, come her cries of rage.. "Cala.. Sabu.. Lynk.. Sandman.. Chaz.. Haefen.. she cries for vengeance against the hand that kills them, and having killed seeks to kill anew. It cries for vengeance against him and against those who abet him." "He has sealed his fate, signed his name in their blood: Cronus.. "There is no atonement. Only appeasement.. " The voice fades to whisper, the wind subsides to a breathless caress, kissing her skin. It croons, "and without appeasement there can be no immortality, little mariner." -------------------------- Message 181 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 6 22:10:00 1997 EDT From: Solitude (#16045) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Solitude? No longer... Weddings...They come in all forms...Big, loud, and gawdy occasions, a feast for the eyes and the soul. But for the silent Solitude, and the smooth Remembrance...loud, big...these were not words for them. No, a wedding was to announce one's promises to another. And that is what was done. Vows sworn in the natural honosty that is the naked form. Four witnesses, to see the joining of the two lovers. Rathe, the Magister elf and teacher of Remembrance. Myst and Devon, friends of Remembrance, and saviours many times over. Menroth, Speaker of Sand Tiger, and close friend of Solitude. To be quoted, in no particular time, or in any frame of referance that has not been mentioned before, Solitude would say, "Those things that touch out hearts and souls most dearly, need no explanation at all." And, his Solitude ends. [Married, Tuesday April 15 in the Post-Apocalyptic Year 2638] -------------------------- Message 182 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 6 22:55:48 1997 EDT From: Izara (#17237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Strange fish in the sea. Izara sat at the edge of the bed looking down at Harrison. Softly she brushed his hair from his sweat beaded brow. He had not spoken much in the last few days. She had questioned him repeatedly but gently about the events that took place in the Submariners jail. Harrison just turned away from her refusing to answer. Taking Harrison's hand in her own, holding it, hoping it would give him a feeling of warmth and love, freeing him from his thoughts and to return to her. She sat there silently holding his hand thinking about what she saw. Harrison in jail, Karcass and the other subbie. She was sure the other ones name was Elendale, the name Harrison whispered quietly while he slept. Both the subbies standing over Harrison as he lay naked unconscious on the floor. All his belongings where thrown here and there. When she had questioned the two subbies about Harrison being without clothes, they just laughed, saying it made him more aerodynamic. She shuddered and held on to Harrisons hand harder, "Aerodynamic my ass" she whispered. She knew exactly what the two subbies were doing....... -------------------------- Message 183 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 09:58:06 1997 EDT From: Mhairi (#16533) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Quiet time... She looked back towards the quiet droning of her fellow students' sleeping breath, and shook her head in silence. "I nee' to ge' away for a while... ba' to the earth for a time... " she murmured, as if in apology. She packed her few possessions in her bag, slinging it heavily over her shoulder, careful not to let anything in the heavy bag clink too loudly. She slipped out into the green fields of the valley at the edge of sunrise, and looked towards the hills that framed the valley. Moving towards the heavier wood, she found herself beside a stream, watching the water on bended knee. Images formed, more behind her eyes than on the passing current, and it was some time before she tore herself away again. She knew closing her eyes wouldn't help, the strange glimpses of possible futures would come to her even in the darkened quiet of her mind. Shaking her head, she quickly unrolled the heavy sheepskin on which she slept, and stretched out, the sunlight through the trees casting hieroglyph-like shadows against her face. "Nothen'll come of et. I's sure o' tha'.. " she mumbled, her body tired to the point at which she could barely summon up the strength to form the words. In the morning sun, she finally slept. OOC Running out of town for a few days, due to a friend who's having a minor crisis. I should be back on Wednesday if all goes well. Mail if you need me for anything, I might be able to at least check that, though Im not sure. Take care people, love ya.. Mhairi/Dee. -------------------------- Message 184 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 12:37:16 1997 EDT From: Ysith (#15287) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Anxiety " Ysith marvelled at the view as he and Thyrz soared amongst the clouds, high above the wastes. Once afraid of the very thought of flight, Ysith seemingly revelled in it now. It the few months he had lived upon Morlith, a new respect for flight had develloped within him. Glancing down at Thyrz, he smiled to himself. Perhaps the feeling was not entirely his own. Spotting a slith moving in the sand below, Ysith smiled as he pointed it out to Thyrz. "How about the slith down there? He seems like a big one...?" he asked. " Thyrz, grumbled as he reared back and beat his wings rapidly, blowing sand about the wastes as he hovered above the ground. The slith sensing its danger, suddenly struggled to move away, fleeing as fast as it could. "I don't like lizard......too stringy!!" came Thyrz's reply. " Ysith chuckled as he grasped Thyrz's shoulders more firmly. "All right....we'll look for something better then. You need the exercise anyway." " Thyrz growled as he beat his wings and rose to a higher altitude. " "You're not going to make any more FAT jokes about me are you?" " Ysith smiled and shook his head in the negative. "No...that would be much to easy....think I'll try snout jokes next....." " Suddenly, without warning Thyrz rolled sharply. Ysith cried in alarm and barely grasped Thyrz's neck as gravity exerted its influence. " "NO SNOUT JOKES!!" came the firm statement from Thyrz as he rolled over again, righting himself in mid-air. Ysith breathed a sigh of relief as the ground rotated to a position below him rather than above him. " Sighing, Ysith mentally noted not to use snout jokes on Thyrz ever. Instead, he turned his thoughts to the child called Rosa. The young ward that the sorcerer Rathe seemed to have taken charge of. It seemed that the child was not, as he had first thought, a full Cambion. For some strange reason, the union of Yara with a demonic progenitor, had produced two children with a strange mix of heritage. Where Rosa seemed to possess the intelligence of a Cambion, she had not yet developed the physical oddities that other Cambions usually possessed. Instead, Rosa's malevolent twin had inherited the greater share of demonic heritage. (cont. in part II) -------------------------- Message 185 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 12:50:45 1997 EDT From: Ysith (#15287) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Anxieties Part II " Ysith silently pondered the dilemma as Thyrz, continued to soar above the wastes. The problem distressed him. He believed strongly in the right of a child to live, but the thought of Rosa's brother growing to maturity scared him. Momentarily, he thought back to his own childhood, and the sheer rage he had felt when he lost control of his unconscious urges. The memory of blood splattering across his hands as he tore his hands into the chest of.... "You are quiet?" came the question from Thyrz. " Ysith's memories surged away as he returned to the present. "Just thinking about someone...." he replied as he reached forward and scratched Thyrz's neck. " Thyrz's shoulders shook slightly as he chuckled. "I see...you plan on taking a mate? Maybe making a clutch?" " Ysith blushed deeply as he momentarily considered the idea of a mate. His expression saddened as the mental picture of two faces forever stilled confronted him. Sadly he shook his head. "No Thyrz,.....I do not think I shall take a mate again...." " Thyrz, turned his head slightly at Ysith's response. For a moment, he opened his mouth to ask, but sensing his rider's discomfort, shut it again and turned his attention back to his path of flight. " Sighing, Ysith stared out over the expanse of the wastes and wondered..... -------------------------- Message 186 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 14:07:15 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: spiral ..three days drunk, and still the terrible images lingered in the back of his mind. Karcass had hit him so hard that he was sure, at first, that he had dreamed it in a half-conscious daze. He came to as Elendil was stripping him down, Karcass holding him tightly from behind, his elbow bent back so far he thought it would snap. Harrison lurched forward, trying desperately to free himself, but the blunt end of Karcass' speargun sent him back into the haze. As he was going out he turned to look up at Elendil. The mariner glared at him, then laughed..."Now you'lll see what we do to ground dwellers that defile our women." He felt himself come in and out of comsciousness, the images disjointed, and it was near impossible to arrange them in any logical order. The feeling of being held down, someone's weight on top of him, the laughing, the repulsive grunting as.... Harrison slammed the rest of the bottle, then spun quickly sending it crashing against the tavern door. For an instant he saw the whole scne clearly, his stomach turned and he collapsed to the ground, his abdomen convulsing as his vomit splattered aginst the floor. He could feel he tears rolling down his cheek as he heaved again and again, then finally collapsed in the sour smelling pool, muttering..."bastards...those filthy fucking bastards..." Finally the churning stopped, he stood slowly, then stepped out into the glaring sun, sand stinging his still naked flesh..."The fuckers didn't even return my clothes..." -------------------------- Message 187 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 14:12:12 1997 EDT From: Elendil (#2237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Poetic license? This is OOC, so I'm just curious: Can you really write on *tp just about anything? For example, Harrison's freudian desire to be raped by male submariners, in complete and total contradiction to what actually happened. -------------------------- Message 188 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 14:14:49 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: freud, subbies, and my dream of riding a banana through a tunnel ooc Ya know what Freud said? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar... -------------------------- Message 189 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 14:54:49 1997 EDT From: Elendil (#2237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A jaunt in the ocean I hopped out of bed at the alarm, slipping my cold-tingling toes into my cute pair of svelte manta ray slippers. A turn through the kitchen brought a collection of savory seaweed cakes to my plate and I munched contentedly, riffling through my collection of pre-Cataclysm 'Ziggy' comics, looking for a particularly amusing one. Needless to say, I didn't look long. Several minutes later, as I clawed myself up from the floor, sides aching with laughter, I heard the charming neo-classical tones of my late-model comm. 'Hello, Elendil here.' I said into the phone. 'It's me, Karcass.' said the voice at the other end. 'This guy named Harrison just tried to kill me. Worse yet, he kept trying to cling to my leg.' 'Yikes!' I exclaimed. 'How nightmarish! What do you want to do?' 'Let's get him,' Karcass said, 'Ugh, I can still feel his clutching fingers tearing at my buttocks!' I nodded, quickly jotting down a quick description Karcass gave me. Springing to my feet, I hurled my bathrobe with its nice little 'E' monogram towards the bedroom and started slapping on my plate mail; I'd obviously need some *serious* protection against such a desperate pervert. Grabbing my mace from where I'd left it soaking in some lysol, I slipped out of the air-lock and started swimming. As I left the gate I did a quick check for potential enemies in the surrounding water, and put up the 'Back in 15 minutes' sign. With a whirr of rotors the helicopter settled atop the helipad. Deftly I leapt out, eyes keen for ambush. I flipped several times back and forth, and ninja-rolled several times to evade any ranged attacks, and then sauntered over to the lift. It carried me swiftly downwards to the empty Round room. I cautiously peered north to the lounge, and lo! there he was, panting heavily and taking a swipe at Osbornn's tuckus everytime he moved down the bar. 'Contact!' I whispered into my comm. 'I read you,' said Karcass 'I'm closing the gate to the wastelands; there's nothing worse than having him escape and become a free-range sexual deviant. The slissh are notoriously sluggish this time of year and I'd hate to give him that sort of opportunity.' 'I follow' I said, heading towards the bar. After triple checking my waist-protecting chainmail shielding, I stepped in. He blinked blearily at me, and the rest of the male patrons sighed audibly as his attention was taken away from them. I turned on my bioscanner and quickly scanned him...yikes, look at that hormonal imbalance! He seemed to sense my fright and bolted, loping southwards and out of sight just as Karcass entered. 'Quick! Follow the sound of those nipple rings!' I shouted, and we tore after him. **WHUD**! The shield-wall to the wastes was still shaking as we entered, a Harrison-shaped impression scored into it's surface. 'There he is!' shouted Karcass, 'He's grunting and chasing that tumbleweed!' Horrified, I rolled up my sleeves and, with a single merciful swing, sent him into quiet slumber. 'Egad,' said Karcass, 'Look at this clothing! Bell-bottoms...velvet ruff shirt...high heels? We've *got* to get this stuff off him!' 'But how?' I recoiled, 'It could kill us all!' 'We've *got to* do it,' affirmed Karcass, 'in the name of dignity and good-taste!' We trussed him up so that he could not surprise us, and stuff him into a transport bound for Woods Hole. Clamping a breathing mask over his face, we paddled him away from the sunked tanker and into the city. 'Let's put him in the jail,' Karcass said, 'After all, he might escape, and there are women and children to think of, not to mention the seahorses.' I nodded grimly, and we entered. We were in the midst of removing his horrid retro clothing when a *knock* sounded at the door. 'Who ever could that be?' I wondered, opening it. 'Hi!' said Izara, 'I just happened completely at random for the first time in ages to come check out the jail, what a coincidence that you're here with the guy I'm letting stay in my dome golly gee!' 'Quite.' Karcass and I said together. 'What are you doing to him?' She asked. 'We're trying to save him from himself,' I said. 'Now, if you'll excuse us...' 'Oh sure,' Izara said, 'I'll try not to come back later and steal all his equipment to return to him.' Suddenly, he awoke! Shuffling with lust, he bounded towards us. We threw up our arms, knowing we were lost, when suddenly a passing electric eel caught his eye through the portal. Slavering, he charged into the water, ignoring his own inability to breathe. *grunt* >zap< *grunt* >zap< *grunt* >zap< *grunt* >zap< 'That poor eel.' I said, and Karcass nodded sadly. We swam out, but by then death had taken him. 'It is up to others greater than we to cure him of his lust,' I said, and Karcass nodded sagely. -------------------------- Message 190 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 15:48:41 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: shame Harrison waited till Iz had fallen into another restless sleep, then slid from beneath the quilt. He slid his few remaining belongings into his back pack and turned, looking at IZ. He could see the curve of her neck, her bare collarbone, and the tops of her breasts, and he stepped towards the bed for a last kiss, but stopped as he felt the nausea return. He closed his eyes tightly driving away the nightmas..."Take care Iz...I'm sorry.." And with that he was gone... -------------------------- Message 191 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 7 16:08:10 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: the life of the mind Journal entry Thu Apr 17 22:42 51 2638 ,,,nowhere to go, immortal, now I have lost everything. I thought about appelaing to Mariner justice, but I've seen how that works...besides they would just deny it. The evidence is there, I'm sure they still have my clothes...god I just want to forget this place, I can't write anymore... -------------------------- Message 192 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 8 04:03:16 1997 EDT From: Mhairi (#16533) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Silence She wandered through the wood, the silence around her giving her a small measure of peace. "'ome... thess feels li'e 'ome used ta," she whispered up to the trees. Rubbing her upper arms, the warmth of her hands soothed her nerves in the in the cool quiet of the early morning shadows. She thought back to her recent conversation with the rider Ysith, thinking what kind of peace she might have shattered with her questions, and sighed. "I's goen' to 'ave to watch me mouth eff I's goen' ta work weth 'im with Rosa," she murmured to herself. It wasn't as if she was unused to sticking her foot well into her mouth, it had become something of a talent, as of late. Curling up on the worn sheepskin, she listened for the soothing sound of the stream. The sound of the water calmed her ragged nerves, and with the rising sun, she began to find a small amount of real relaxation. Sleep found her in the rolling of the water. The faces of those she called her friends rose up to greet her in her dreams, for once, no crows swirling above them in a blackening sky. Her dream form smiled as a festival seemed to form out of nowhere, and she danced, and played her drum, everything contentment around her. She recalled each face in the dance, their laughter bringing happiness to her weakened spirit. The sky failed to blacken, no crows came, and it was at a soft kiss from a stranger's lips that she awoke. The quiet of the morning sun greeted her, and alone, she closed her eyes again, wishing that this time, the world of the dream might be the real one. "Sometimes life jess essen' righ'," she sighed, curling her arms around her knees, tears starting in her eyes. Suddenly the pain was different, as was the fear. It was now not the terror of the death omens that came to her as she slept, but of a world she wasn't allowed to touch, one in which she could find real happiness. A dream simply wouldn't be enough to fill that void in reality, and she shook silently, sobbing, hating the exhaustion that still gripped her. -------------------------- Message 193 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 8 08:32:48 1997 EDT From: Lykaj (#6068) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: better days Lykaj laid his head against the filthy bar wall. His eyes blinking open on occasion as the regular bar noise erupted. With a burb he chuckles, "Menroth was right about this place. Good stock." He slumps back into the booth, trying desperatly for comfort. A voice from accross the bar yells out, "There he goes again. Talking to himself. What a joke." Lykaj doesnt even bother looking in the direction of the voice. Just aiming his middle finger towards the voice and sipping at his bottle with the other hand. Lykaj closes his eyes again as he hears the sound of heavy footsteps comeing his way. The voice is loud and brusk as the man leans over the table to say, "Watch where yer pointen dat mister, or i shove it up yer ass." His breath rivaling Lykajs. Lykaj looks up to see an enormous 7 foot 300 lb giant of a man leaning over his table. He chuckles and says, "Let me guess, they call you Goliath. Names David. He smiles wryly at the man and takes a sip from his bottle. "David!" The man chorltles out. "What kind of a pansy assed name is dat? Ya long haired freak. David! What a joke. Yer momma name ya that on purpose?" He man laughs out as do a few of his frends that congregate at the table. Lykaj just smiles back and says, "My *momma* always said I was special. And *Momma* was always right" He grins and then blinks, "Wait a moment. I dont have a momma. Maybe it was your momma?" He chuckles to himself. Moments later, a fist about the size of a jack hammer crashes against his chaw. Some point later, Lykaj awakes to find himself broken and battered in some ally somewhere. He crawls up to the ally wall and leans against a trash can. He closes his eyes and shivers from the cold and the pain, he mumbles out loud, "Who's mother was tha.." The last part trailing off as he passes out from the pain. -------------------------- Message 194 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 8 12:09:16 1997 EDT From: Jamie (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Happiness Jamie smiled and looked over at Red who was sleeping peacefully next to her in their huge bed. "You will be a wonderful father" she whispered to him, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Jamie snuggled up against him, folding her small body around his. She could feel the tiny butterfly movements in her stomach, even being sick didnt carry the reality that these did. She really was pregnant. Moonheart really was right. Red began to stir in the bed. Jamie gently kissed the hollow between his shoulderblades and ran her hand along his arm, "its not time to get up yet" she says softly to him, not ready herself to leave the warmth of the bed as she listens to him slip back into the deeper sleep of before. Jamie smiled to herself, thinking of her hand on his as he had gently placed his hand on her slightly swollen stomach. He too could feel the tiny kicks and turns of the baby. A boy or a girl. Either one would be fine. Strong and proud like their father. There was nothing she wanted more. -------------------------- Message 195 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 8 14:13:52 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin smiled at Lyr'tyz'luthe as he darted around the garden. Everything was a wonderment to the young sapphire, and he seemed to never loose interest in what he saw. Even the dappled sunlight on the grass was something to examine again and again. He had told Yshar that he liked everything he saw... Ylaerin could see the truth of that in his whirling green and blue eyes. He was a joy to behold, and she couldn't wait to be bonded to him. She had discovered, once she looked close enough, that the outside world wasn't the only thing that enchanted Luthe. He would watch her sew or play the harp or write for hours on end. He would try to hum along with her songs, which pleased her greatly. But perhaps most importantly, to Ylaerin anyhow, was the fact that he was also insaitiably curious about *her*. He loved to be told stories, and seemed to be most interested in the stories she could tell him about her own life. He listened patiently, and she could nearly see the questions he must have for her in his eyes. Since she understood very little of the speech of the dragons (mostly her name, and that one glorius word.. "Worthy") they rarely had verbal conversation. Luthe listened, and reacted fondly to her, should she be telling a sad or bittersweet story; but the more she was with him - which was always now - the more she realized that through her love for him and his for her, the communication barrier was a slight one. And so they spent their days getting to know each other, and went Ylaerin wasn't lavishing attention on Luthe, she was making preparations for the wedding. The days were speeding past her, even faster than before with Luthe constantly at her side. Perhaps the best thing was, the loneliness that occasionally snuck up on her - even with Yshar so close - was held at bay even more by Luthe's constant presence. The darkness of the past was receeding... at long last. -------------------------- Message 196 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 8 20:53:15 1997 EDT From: Janus (#3597) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Exkatlibur... There is a katana in the floor of the the Real/Time Lounge, the rumor say that whoever can take it from the floor will get a kingdom :) -------------------------- Message 197 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 8 20:56:33 1997 EDT From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) "Whatever" ok then JHanus..actually it somehow got @Locked when I threw it...and it won't seem to @move -------------------------- Message 198 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 9 11:38:43 1997 EDT From: Darby (#12081) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: 196/197 Ho-hum:) before our eyes (and to our disbelief), the floor of the R/T Lounge turned into a vast lake. Slowly, from its center, the arm of a woman emerged and snatched the msyterious katana, dragging it under. "Indian giver!," we all shouted. OOC: the katana was neither @locked nor locked_down. It was coded so that only an AHaB and the owner could 'get' it. Easy come -- easy go, eh, Kzin? Heh. -------------------------- Message 199 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 9 13:35:17 1997 EDT From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: What the heck have I gotten myself into now? Devon thought about the last night, he realized he did too much introspection now a days, maybe he was getting old. It had been a quiet time in the lounge, he'd seen his old teacher Damien, he requested taking his leave of his teachings. He'd learn all he'd wished of Damien, now he needed to work with his new found knowledge. So the question on his mind is what do I want. He decided it was time to rise in his circle, or at least try to again, with the new magisters, some old enemies he certainly wasn't going to stand idly by and let them pass him. He chuckled to himself asking the magus Kynwal if he was taking students, Kynwal's reply was of course that the two of them had too different philosophies to be able to do it. The day went quietly by after the lounge was nearly empty he had a surprise appearance of the adept Axelle, in the past perhaps even his nemesis and enemy. At first he wished to get Coreen in trouble, telling Axelle that she had left for Rathe's teachings, this in fact didn't accomplish anything, Axelle seemed to be expecting this for some time. Conversations of no importance led to a question, Axelle was after all an adept, and was exhibiting some spells Devon had never seen. Devon's interest piqued, he asked Axelle since she had an opening for a student if she would think of taking him as a student. Of course questioned why, Devon stated he wanted to learn the black arts, mre for defense rather than his own increase in power. He tried to make a joke about not wanting his lifeforce sucked out by a necromancer, Kynwal of course felt the need to do such as Devon weakened and slipped into the couch. Axelle agreed to Devon's surprise and said they'd start tomorrow. leaving shortly after they all headed home, and Devon thought about what he'd done, this could either be extremely good, and or an unholy alliance which could bring about god knows what, only time would tell as he yawned broadly and fell asleep. -------------------------- Message 200 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 9 14:03:02 1997 EDT From: Shaelin (#18284) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: People are strange when you're a stranger ( I'll give this an R- cause Im not sure what im writing yet ) They were getting closer, circling her. If she thought about it long enough she was sure she could feel their hot breath on her neck. Stalking, waiting, wanting. She could catch glimses of their cold eyes reflected in the moonlight, hear them growling and snarling. But that was ok, she was ready, wanted this. Wanted the oblivion the wounds and pain would give her. How the hell did that mage know he was her father? What the hell happened? >From the tattoo, the wizzard marking? The tickling mind spell so she wouldnt itch? What??!! Why now? What the hell did he want with her? What scam? She clamped her hands to her head, "hurry.." she whispered, "attack already.. NOW!..before i go ..completely insane..." she trailed off. Her face contorted in agony as the first came, snapping at her, sinking its sharp teeth into the soft skin of her arm. Then the rest, mercilessly pulling and tearing at her until she could no longer listen to the words in her mind. Enough. Fighting back only enough to be free of their blood lust, their rage. She layed down next to Komodo, slipping into an exquisite place of mind quiet and numbing pain. OOC : ok.. so not an R.. but hey.. I wasnt sure *griN* -------------------------- Message 201 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 9 18:13:06 1997 EDT From: Mhairi (#16533) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another ache.. She rubbed her shoulder as she slowly came to her senses, the still of the wood bringing ease to her mind and weary flesh. The warmth of the sun was a small comfort, as was the small campsite she had made by the quietly rushing stream. It seemed that of late, if it was not one thing, it was another, strangeness upon strangeness, until the world had spun back into the whirl of madness. She could not be entirely certain of what had happened, as the magic had clouded her mind rapidly as she tried to work it to stop the conflict that had arisen in the lounge. Closing her eyes, she tried to piece together the strange sequence of events that had led her back down the fighters' road she had thought she had been lucky enough to be able to abandon for a while to take the students' path for a time. She half chuckled to herself, then sighed. She had been in violation of reality, it had said, though, in her mind, he was in complete conflict with hers, as well. Whose was the correct one, or was there some other, that no one had yet to find? It wasn't something she wanted to think about. She sighed, remembering how pitiful her magics were as she tried to defend those around her, heal them, if nothing esle. Nothing had come of it, not the power or her body, not the power of her mind. She silently resigned herself to resuming her studies, at a full pace, madness be damned. The thought of the people who had run to her side in pain nearly killed her, and there was nothing in the world that could stop her from advancing now, not when her fear might render her helpless to protect those she cared for. Opening her eyes, she saw the sunlight filtering down from the sky, receding over the ridge of the mountains, its task completed until morning came again. "If only et was so simple for the res' of us... " she murmured, favoring her shoulder with a soft whimper as she settled into the sheepskin bed. She closed her eyes, and prayed that sleep would take her for a time. -------------------------- Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 16:08:54 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 202 - 251 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 202 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 10 02:01:49 1997 EDT From: Skywalker (#6644) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: soulbonding The following was found on a small card left on the bar in the R/T lounge: On Monday April 21 of the year 2628, mage Seeker Darci Fuchs and the Submariner Huntmaster known as Skywalker were soulbonded on the GhostWheel plain. Performing the ceremony was Magister Rathe and a few close friends were in attendance. -------------------------- Message 203 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 11 02:43:04 1997 EDT From: Synge (#12541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: goin' a hunting. Synge sharpened his sword, growling angrily, "this is all Toraxyn's fucking fault!" he stood up, and kicked the network terminal, the pain of a broken toe nonexistant. "he's gonna die." he snarled, sharpening the blade for mirror sharp and razor edge.. "I'll enjoy tearing his throat out." [Before....] Synge laid in his bunk, looking at Ariana's empty cot.. they had made love... but she had fallen asleep.. he knew liqour was on her breath. He saw her with Toraxyn earlier.. seemed harmless enough. he shrugged it off, and looked at the laptop screen.. *laptop* I am so glad you asked me to be your girlfriend Synge. *laptop* text entered, appending aborted. He smiled.. hopping out the bed, and going to the R/T... [Present...] Synge walked into the R/T after a chat with Ariana on the phone.. telling them they loved each other.. Synge thought this true.. until he walked north, and saw Ariana and Toraxyn cuddling. Synge watched... the two seemed not to notice. "I should've killed him right then and there." he thought to himself, but he continued to watch.. then Synge spoke up, and Toraxyn moved aside.. Synge ordered some whiskey, "boy this is gonna be a long night." and asked Ariana to follow him. they went to the greenroom, and started talking.. he then found out. Ariana loved Toraxyn while she loved Synge. Synge could not take this.. then.. Ariana went berserk in a way, saying she seduced Toraxyn, and that she hated Synge all along.. Synge held back any emotions, and said nothing..words flew, and Synge's hopes shattered. He said he was moving out of the tent, and she agreed indefinantly. the relationship was over, and thoughts came into his head, Toraxyn will die... he will pay severely. Synge grinned maniacally, sharpening his blade even more, ready to smite Toraxyn down. *End* -------------------------- Message 204 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 11 08:43:21 1997 EDT From: Myst (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A night out Myst could hardly believe that she had forgotten her husband's birthday. Then, again, she hadn't really been out that much, being plagued with cramps and pains from the pregnancy...she didn't have any idea what the date was... She was so sorry, and felt so ashamed..though it seemed payback for when Devon forgot hers... She made it up to him, though. She led Devon to Drach'Nal, where she found a nice spot in the grass, and made love to him all night, doing whatever he wished of her. It seemed the least she could do. She chuckled to herself, half thinking it might be old age setting in...but she was 23, hardly an age at which the memory went. Perhaps it was just the distraction of the pregnancy...she detested the morning sickness because it almost always put her in a bad mood, but she could do little about it. There were a few herbs that she could and did take for it, but that could only lessen the effect, not relieve it completely. She pushed the distractive thoughts from her mind, and snuggled closer to her husband in the warm bed, sleeping peacefully. -------------------------- Message 205 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 11 11:16:41 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin sat in the cavern she now shared with Yshar and their dagonfriends, practicing the difficult harp line over and over. She'd made the accompaniment to the wedding ballad more complex; the harp notes now soared and danced around the melody and harmony that would be not only her voice, but hers joined with Yshar's as well. He had such a beautiful voice, and she knew hers was nowhere near as ood... ah well, her harping was top rate these days. The practice of the past year had done her worlds of good. Lyr'tyzluthe's tail twitched in time with her song, and she grinned at him. She shifted into the ballad she'd written a while back about the dragon - a sapphire dragon hero. This, of course, pleased Luthe to no end, and he began to croon along at her. Ylaerin chuckled, and at the end of the song, set her harp aside and stroked Luthe's nose. The weddin came, sooner than she dared to dream. All her friends would come.. even Rathe, which scared her a bit. But what had she to fear? With Luthe at her side, and Yshar as her husband, nothing could go wrong. And not even Rathe would change that. OOC Note: I'd failed to give a time for the wedding before, but now I'm on the ball. Sunday night at 10 EST, the ceremony will begin. Just to reiterate, all Morlith residents are invited, and those who've been invited by either Yshar or Ykaerin will be ferried up from the R/T roof by Kisanth. We'll start as close to 10 as possible, and be prepared to at least attempt to dance ;) -------------------------- Message 206 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 11 16:13:58 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Souls, only Fifteen crys apiece.. Rathe chortled, dropping his knapsack down by the door and flopping down onto his bed. The pure genius of what he had come up with today still startled even him. Today, Rathe had agreed to help two rather desperate people. Toraxyn, with Ikaris and Coreen, and Appalene, with Serenio and Akane. Of course, he had told them they would have to do some service for him in return. "What is it you want?," they had both asked.. Rathe only smiled. "A contract.. I simply ask that you sign a contract." No ordinary contract, of course. Both ordinary contracts were bound as to be geas enforced.. Whatever was agreed to in writing would force the signer to comply with such.. In both of the contracts he had two very desperate people sign today, he was intentionally vague.. The exact wording had been something akin to "..Will be required to preform some service at a later date"... Rathe smiled again. Even two rather harmless seekers could be of use some day. And when that day came, Rathe thought, he would be waiting.. Waiting to claim the debt. -------------------------- Message 207 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 12 13:26:26 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another contract. Chuckling, Rathe headed up the platform, into Real/Time. The interrogation with Serenio had gone quite well.. He patted the scroll hidden under his robe... Quite well. He smiled. Another deal deal struck, another person claimed.. -------------------------- Message 208 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 13 09:42:23 1997 EDT From: Myst (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: A day of joy The day had started out as usual...waking up and walking to the hatchery to watch the little hatchlings play. They were really very amusing; pouncing on each other, play-fighting..much like human children. Lyetra had wanted her to help her with her wedding gown - Myst had mended Lyetra's mother's gown when it had been torn by..Kzin was it? Now she would try her hand at making an entire garment. Together, they had tried to start, but Lyetra...Ylaerin now...her soon-to-be dragonfriend, Lyr'tyzluthe, had wanted to play... Myst smiled, thinking about how much sleep Yshar and Ylaerin would get with two sapphires in their cavern. They were in the process of accompanying Luthe to the hatchery, when the little garnet hatchling walked out. Myst smiled at the little wanderer. Luthe immediately starting nudging his playmate, but the garnet seemed interested in Myst. Myst didn't really know what had caught the garnet's interest, so she just smiled warmly at her. The garnet approached and started nuzzling her...Myst scritched the garnet's eyeridges, thinking that she wanted attention. The garnet kept nuzzling, and then spoke in the Dragon's Tongue. "WORTHY!", the little hatchling creeled at her. Myst stood there stunned...it was one of the few words she knew of the Tongue...she stared childishly at the garnet, at a loss for words. On the edge of her consciousness she heard Ylaerin say, "Say yes!" Myst could not move her lips to form the words. The garnet nudged her again, crooning "WORTHY!" Still Myst remained stunned. Finally, the garnet nudged her over onto her back and started whuffling her...by this time Myst could reply, warm tears of joy running down her cheeks... "Yes...yes, oh yes!" she spoke to the hatchling. She put her arms around the hatching's neck and hugged her tightly. She could see Ylaerin smiling at her...even Luthe seemed pleasantly distracted. Myst cleared the tears from her cheeks, standing at the garnet's side. Looking back from the garnet to Ylaerin, Myst suddenly realized that they had forgotten all about the dress! The wedding was only in a few days, so Myst could not keep forgetting like this! Together, Ylaerin, Luthe, Myst and her newfound garnet friend, entered Ylaerin's cavern and Myst set about working on Ylaerin's dress, working happily and swiftly. Ylaerin and Myst talked about marriage, life and anything else that came to mind while Myst practically danced around Ylaerin, sticking pins here and there...pausing to sew or make adjustments in the gown... Myst surprised herself...she was actually doing a decent job, this being the first dress she had made completely from scratch. There were a few areas that needed adjusting, raising or lowering, but that could be done once they got the dress pieces measured and assembled. After Myst got all the pieces to fit at the desired lengths, she carefully helped Ylaerin out of the pinned gown and together they talked and sewed for the most part of the afternoon, the gown taking shape rapidly. Myst looked to the garnet sleeping by the entraceway occasionally, a broad smile coming to her lips as she did so. Her dream was one step closer to being realized....Tika would be so proud.... -------------------------- Message 209 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 13 15:16:15 1997 EDT From: mugwump (#17486) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Somewhere west of ComSOG ... Mugwump shivered and hunkered down into his oversized greatcoat and looked out over the deserted airfield. The wind cut through him like a knife and the cold grey tube rested on his shoulder uncomfortably. His comrades looked miserable. The SOG officer's voice harangued them continually with alien words and concepts. Stuff like `angular momentum,' rate of burn' and `relative pursuant trajectories' meant little out here and he thought about home. His reverie was cut short as the SOG officer clamped a gloved hand on his shoulder, forcing him to one knee and pointed to the SW cornere of the sky. A small black dot became visible and shortly you could hear the whine of a jet engine. Mugwump's heart leapt into his throat, as the SOG officer barked a single command. He fumbled with the pistol grip under the tube, finally twisting it one half turn and lined up the crude sighting on the approaching aircraft. A red light began flashing near his right eye and he gradually became aware of a whine, increasing in pitch and coming from the rear of the tube. He held his breath. The SOG officer barked, "FIRE!!" and mugwump squeezed off the trigger. He was almost knocked onto his back as the missile leapt from the launcher with a roar and streaked toward the aircraft leaving a stunned trio standing in a cloud of burnt powder. Almost immediately the aircraft seemed to become aware of the approaching destruction and began a series of manoeuvres to escape but at every turn, the missiles homing sensor cut a bit less off the distance. The aircraft undertook a despaerate barrel roll. at the peak of the roll the two dots in the sky became one with a blinding flash. Bits of fuselage and wrecked wings began tumbling to earth as a faint explosion was heard. Mugwump was numb. His ears roared, and he tried to control the shaking starting in his vitals. His two companions, the girl with the deformed hand and the quiet man with the gills were cheering, hugging each other and mugwump, but he was speechless. Then he realized. He had done it, it was over. They could finally now return to the odd white building in the wastes with its tyrants and warlords and restore order. -------------------------- Message 210 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 14 12:27:47 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The morning after.. ;) (Don't worry.. PG) Ylaerin awoke to Luthe's wuffling, and smiled into his sapphire face. She knew he wanted to go out - he loved how spring was giving way to summer, there was more for him to see - and she knew he wanted her with him. Yshar was sleeping soundly, and Ylaerin did her best not to wake him by disentangling herself from his grasp. Part of her regretted leaving their bed... but she knew she had her whole life to be with him... That's when it struck her. She was married. A wife. A wife! She held up her left hand, and the engraved golden band winked at her. She grinned at Luthe, and quietly slipped out of bed, dressing quickly. Yshar had good reason to be tired, and so did she, but she felt she'd been selfish with her time... Luthe needed her too. She supposed, as she slipped on her skirt, that this was only the beginning of juggling a family. She had a husband now.. and Luthe.. and Tyzrath. They all needed her love. And when the children came.. well, Myst was right, the cavern was going to seem small - but it would be cozy. Buttoning her blouse, she went over last night's events in her head. She had phoned Thistle after the ceremony.. her 'sister' had been happy for her, and had promised to come see her and her gown. Myst had been so kind to stand by her... Etra knew she had a true friend there. She remembered Yggy's foolish grin.. Rathe's kindness (well, for him it *was* terribly sweet)... Ynaoise and Yjezra had been so good as well. The trumpeting of dragons still rang in her ears from the wedding kiss... and all the while, Yshar's almost stunned expression. If she'd been nervous before, she was nothing but freedom now, and she left her boots lying on the cavern floor... When Luthe had tired himself out with scampering, and she had wearied herself with stroking his shining scales, she would come back to her marriage bed, slip in beside her husband, and rest.. OOC - Thanks to everyone.. it went wonderfully, and I had a great time! I can't thank you all enough.. it was, in my humble opinion, a very realistic wedding. ;) -------------------------- Message 211 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 14 16:47:46 1997 EDT From: Jamie (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: o/~ B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name, oh! o/~ Jamie rested her forehead against the cool stone wall in the main chamber as a small wave of relief washed over her. Thank god the wolf left. How the hell did it get in the Keep in the first place? It looked crazed, blood dripping from its muzzle as it stalked towards her. Growling and snarling. Jamie slid her hand down to her hip, feeling the beginning of an angry bruise. She shouldnt have followed the wolf out of the main chamber but she was curious about how it got in. She didnt know it would be so wild. Jamie let out a small laugh, relieving some of the pent up fear she had. Damn that wolf scared her, scared her enough to back painfully into the hard wall in the hall, and enough to call out to Red. Then it was gone, brushing by her and just gone... Jamie pushed the heavy curtain aside and slipped into the bed chamber. Stifling another giggle she sat down on the bed by Red. Damn, the man could sleep..Quietly she laughed again, thinking she should have stayed in bed. -------------------------- Message 212 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 14 18:17:34 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: FYI... Any mages who see toraxyn during the next RL week will see a silvery rune etched seemingly into the skin of his forehead, it reads in the language of magic "He who betrays" The rune will dissapear in 1 RL week from today, and only mages can see it :) Thankyouforyertime --Rathe -------------------------- Message 213 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 14 20:09:23 1997 EDT From: Haefen (#16887) To: *mages (#11664) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Bye A note today was found in the spellsingers hall and in the lounge. It read: Hello fellow spellsingers I left this for anyone who gives a damn about me. This note is to say that i will be going away for quite a long time... Sadly maybe even forever. The reason for this is because things are getting to damn messed up around this place. I never now whats happening. and i can never relax. Before i go though i want to say thanks to Akane, Appalene, and all my other friends. I may come back if i find my new life just as screwed up as it is here. So i hope to keep a place in all of my friends hearts, and i hope to beable to come back to most of you, and especially to the spellsingers. Bye -------------------------- Message 214 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 14 23:10:05 1997 EDT From: Yshar (#12217) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Passings... Yshar lay beside the sleeping form of Ylaerin, his arms around her warmly. It felt good, to love again...It had been so long... The wedding had been perfect...and Ylaerin had appeard to be a Goddess decended. Later that evening, she had feared that the scars she bore from events long past made the eye weary. But he had reassured her that she was indeed gorgious to his eyes. He sighed happily, nuzzling into Ylaerin's curly locks once more before drifting into sleep. He loved her... -------------------------- Message 215 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 15 05:08:12 1997 EDT From: Mhairi (#16533) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Well, isn't _this_ fun. As soon as sleep had been beginning to return to her, she paced the outside of her campsite with a strange burning in her blood, yet again, letting something come between her and much needed rest. Already, five days (MOO time) had passed, and with each, the feeling intensified. She slumped to the ground, poking at the dying fire with a charred stick, sighing heavily. It was all so clear in her mind, still, the events of that afternoon, and she shook her head in misery. She remembered Anansi, who had never seemed to like her all that much, "Hmmph," she sniffed, "'e certainly li'ed me enough -once-.. " and shook her head. It was best that she _not_ think about things like that now, in any case. Anansi had apparently been intent on poisoning Coreen for some unknown reason, with some strange mood affecting drug that she had never heard the likes of in her life. There had been more than one struggle that ensued, leaving many of them broken, bloodied, or, in her case, temporarily silent. The elven magister had attempted to draw the poisons out of her, but somehow, Ikaris had interfered, even as Devon had tried to snatch him away from the workings. The result had been a cloud of some sort, roiling brown, enveloping both Coreen and Rathe. She had tried to disperse the cloud with a minor control of the winds, and had truly only served to spread it liberally around the room. With a heavy sigh, she stabbed at the fire, "So ess as much you're own damn faul' as et ess anyone else's," she muttered into the sputtering coals. She closed her eyes, wishing heartily that there was someplace close to get thoroughly drunk so she might pass out and sleep through the day. "Who'd'a though' et woul' be so damned 'ard for ME to quench a lust enchantment?" she groaned, as if the fire might answer her. It sputtered and died, as light rain began to fall around her. She glanced towards the sky, and shook her head. "I s'pose thess ess the worl's way o' letten me know I jess nee' a col' shower." -to be continued- -------------------------- Message 216 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 15 06:01:55 1997 EDT From: Mhairi (#16533) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: part 2 *wink* After being certain the rain had killed the fire, she flipped back the flap of the canvas tent, and slipped inside. Securing the smoke flap over the top, she curled up in her pile of blankets, clutching one to her chest for a sense of security. She thought over and over about how easy it would really be to satisfy the spell, and searched her mind over and over again for the answers to why she refused do so. After all, there had to be a dozen young stablehands in the valley... Rathe had said he could transfer the spell to someone else, though this seemed unacceptable as well, as it would cause a similar amount of 'suffering' in their case. She just couldn't let that be. She had to take care of it in some other way, which, she was hesitant to do for reasons she couldn't begin to comprehend. She groaned slightly, closing her eyes. Curling up into a tighter ball, she remembered the afternoon at the baths in vivid detail. Nothing had happened, not that anyone would ever believe that, especially not of her. Especially not -now-. "Poor man... 'e don' e'en know wha' kin' o' trouble I's goen' ta be," she mumbled into her blanket. Running through scenarios in her head, she saw quite clearly that she could never tell him that there was real danger involved, and she didn't like her friends worrying after her. She turned all shades of crimson, thinking that if anyone knew, she might get offers of 'help' from gods knew what sides. "Thass all I'd need," she groaned. Sighing heavily, she consigned herself to not sleeping. -------------------------- Message 217 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 15 09:49:14 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: new beginnings... Awoken with a start Jaelene searches her pouch for her journal. Always finding comfort in writing down her thoughts after waking from disturbed sleep. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as her journal is where she left it. Always nervous someone will take her thoughts away with them. =============== Journal Entry... Sun May 11, 2638 I met some people last night. Well met is a strong word. Watched rather. Not sure if they noticed me. A man was there.. I felt something when I looked at him. Not sure who he is, but he seemed relaxed and self-confident as he sat back with his feet propped up. He intrigues me. I should watch him some more, see if he's safe. What am I doing? Why did I come here? What if someone recognizes me? Calm down Jaelene, you're safe. Finally . finally safe..though is it just an illusion. =============== Quietly she puts her journal in her pouch, holding tightly to her dagger, Jaelene finds restless sleep. -------------------------- Message 218 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 15 15:32:25 1997 EDT From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A Return to Ghostwheel She crept about her chambers stealthily, the night sounds all around her masking the faint noise of her movements. She packed her things in a small pack, whatever she would need for the voyage. When finished, she stowed the pack under her bed. It was not tonight that she would depart the Motherland, but soon. The sooner the better. The baby Chameleon was steadily growing sicker as the days passed. Not an Eastern dragon, Aisy had no inkling on how to treat the beast. He did not respond to the traditional treatments. It was all that she could do to return the dragon to the Mount on Ghostwheel and hope that Yjezra the Mistress could help his condition. Only problem was. How the hell was she going to make the arduous flight back? -------------------------- Message 219 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 15 23:13:16 1997 EDT From: Aislyn (#7750) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Soil of Foreign Land A figure crept into her chambers while Aislyn lay sleeping and jerked her awake. Frightened out of her skin, he ushered her to the solarium where the Chamelon slept. Before she could understand what was going on, she and the dragon were magicked out of China and into some hidden room in Ghostwheel. She told the Chameleon to stay put while she ventured out, finding herself in the Round Room of all places. Gotea had come through for her. Unbelievable. She had met her Peignu in a bar -- he was a seasoned fighter and she knew that if they ever went to fists, he would be a worthy opponent. His friend was obviously a great magician for here she was now...alone and frightened. All that was left to do now was to see about her baby dragon's health and eventually...yes eventually, repay Gotea's kindness and aid. What he asked for was almost impossible however. She had never believed the day would come that she would have to cover this debt. Yes, she had doubted the magnificent warrior's capabilities and contacts. Oh Buddha help her. The future didn't look so rosy. -------------------------- Message 220 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 16 11:03:07 1997 EDT From: Morpheus (#12681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Luck of the Dice ' Morpheus sat quietly, regarding the sleeping form of his beloved as he often did. For some reason, he took some form of strange comfort in it. Leaning over, he planted a tender kiss upon her forehead. She stirred briefly and smiled unconsciously on her sleeping palate, but otherwise did not wake as Morph sat back and returned to his thoughts. ' Glancing at a newly carved set of wooden dice in his hands, Morpheus pondered his recent failure. His attempts at enchanting the dice had failed utterly. Originally, his intent had been to create dice that ignored the traditional entropic decay that most suffered in their patterns of rolls. In other words, his dice had been designed to consistently roll a four and a three on every toss. Instead, his efforts had created a completely chaotic pattern of shifting, limitless probability. Sighing, Morpheus grimaced as he reflected upon the cost of his failure. Even now, he could feel the paradox energies of his spell coiled within him, awaiting a chance to spring forth and plunge him into random madness at any point in time. Picking up the dice, Morpheus tossed them onto the cave floor in front of him. ' Two fives. ' It had to be something about the dice, he decided. Somehow, his spell had not woven properly into the object he had prepared. There clearly needed to be some form of alteration to the dice so that they would accept the enchantment correctly. Morpheus sighed again as he picked up the dice and tossed them again. ' A six, and a two. ' Perhaps he could find someone better versed with the enchantment of material objects, decided Morph. He had been told that both Damien and Magus Theseus were adequately skilled in the area of magical artificing. Morpheus picked up the two six-sided dice and rolled them one more time before returning to sleep beside his beloved. As he lay himself down, he did not see the numbers displayed upon the top of the dice as they landed on the cold cave floor. ' Two nines. -------------------------- Message 221 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 16 11:18:30 1997 EDT From: ARMX (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Graveyard Download ' ARMX stared at the white walls of Madelaine's office. Its neural pathways buzzed with activity as it formulated new designs, concepts, and thoughts. Its consciousness wandered for a moment as it recalled its near death experience in the R/T Lounge. With the help of the Tech Order, ARMX had restored itself to full function, and had even formulated new modifications to its existing design. ARMX's eyes drifted to a close as it contemplated its self existance. ' The visions came suddenly, and without warning.... ' ".....Daddy? I wanna be a bird when I grow up...." ' BANG. ' ".....For god sakes Charles, come to bed already....." ' BANG. ' "....that's right pal, you just suck on that barrel or we'll see just how well your little girl here can swim...." ' BANG. ' "....Hereby found guilty of......." ' BANG. ' ".....Murder....murder....murder....." ' BANG. ' "......Unit specifications match profile..lock target and fire at will....." ' BANG. ' "......36,000 tons Charles, that was the deal...." ' BANG. BANG. BANG. ' The sound of the gunshots tore through ARMX's consciousness as its eyes snapped open. Glancing down, it noticed its hands tensed, digging into the floor. |+| Time Index? |+| it queried. |+| Time Index: 464188.33 |+| ' ARMX pondered for a moment as it considered the 5 second gap in its awareness. Such a gap was not within operational parameters. |+| Initiate Full Diagnostic Scan |+| |+| Process will require 30% of operating capacity - Execute? |+| |+| Request Confirmed. Initiating Scan... |+| ' Sitting back, ARMX silently returnd to its contemplations. As trinary sequences flashed across its vision, ARMX too comfort in the mesmerizing patter of simple, understandable numbers. -------------------------- Message 222 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 16 11:39:16 1997 EDT From: Ysith (#15287) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A man and his dragon... ' Ysith ducked low and punched outwards with the hilt of his blade as the Slith's claws swept over his head. His fist smashed into the Slith's stomach causing it to double over momentarily. Taking advantage of the opening, Ysith slashed his blade's edge upwards, slicing through the slith's jaw and burying itself half-way into its skull. As he struggled to free his blade, a hiss sounded from behind him. Knowing that he would not free his blade in time to face another slith, Ysith released his blade and prepared to use his hands. ' An engulfing shadow covered him suddenly, as a flash of lightning slammed into the slith behind him. Its body ignited instantly even as it catapulted backwards and landed hard upon the ground, spasming uncontrollably in its death throes as small arcs of electrical energy coursed up and down its smouldering frame. Ysith sighed as he placed his foot on the corpse before him, and proceeded to pry his sword loose. ' "I told you I wanted to hunt alone!" he snapped as he wiped the green slime the sliths called blood, from the edge of his blade. ' "My aren't WE cranky? Its not as though I didn't save your life or anything...." grumbled Thyrzraith, as he casually stretched out on the wasteland sand and flattened a nearby sand dune with his swinging tail. ' Ysith sighed again as he glanced back at Thyrz. His face softened as he looked at his large friend. ' "I'm sorry Thyrz....I've....I've just been a little edgy lately..." he apologized. ' Thyrz snorted a blast of heated air as he glanced at Ysith. ' "You think I don't know that? You've made me grumpy for the past day and a half!" he muttered as his eyes whirled a light swirling orange. ' When Ysith did not respond, Thyrz glanced at him and then nodded. ' "You're thinking about little fire-head again aren't you?" he commented. ' Ysith opened his mouth to speak, and then nodded again. He knew he could not mask his feelings from one who shared his soul. ' "I love her Thyrz...." he sighed as he returned his sword to its sheath and stared off into the distance. ' Thyrz's eyes whirled a deep blue-green as he watched Ysith, he grinned, allowing his rows of sharpened teeth to show. ' "Take her as a mate...." he suggested bluntly. ' A strange sadness settled over Thyrz as Ysith looked down at the ground and shook his head. ' "If only it were that easy brother......" ' Thyrz leaned close, allowing Ysith to reach around and scritch Thyrz's eyeridges affectionately. Together, man and dragon watched the sunlight die, as its sourced dipped slowly behind the horizon. -------------------------- Message 223 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 16 16:33:54 1997 EDT From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Strangeness? or just the ravings of a Dragonknight? Khyber weaved through the rooms of the keep, twirling both long knives.. he smelled something foreign.. something undescribable in the air.. like that of an intruder. "God I hate intruders" he grinned slightly, patting a sword by his side. "well, if they're in here, they're gonna be dead before they leave." yet.. the smell was not humanoid in nature.. more of a feminine scent tho. "sweat and perfume" he mused, knowing good and well we wouldn't attack a femme unless he had too, and even then he wouldn't want too, but a job must be done, and damned if he was the best one for it. But he searched through nearly all the keep, even slightly peeking in through the heavy curtain of Red's Bedroom, lucky they were asleep, otherwise Khyb would've been toast.. "toast" he grinned to himself, looking down at his long knives.. showing his now scraggly like appearance held underneath his helmet.. he snickered, sitting down at the table in the main room.. propping his feet up on the table. the scent led out the door, so nothing probably happened that would hurt Thistle and Red, which was even better. Now.. all he had to do was wait for Aislyn to return from her motherland.. if she ever did return.. her and their child.. weither unborn or not.. it did not matter, just as long as she returned if she did at all. he took his knive, and carved some little pentagram like symbol into the wood of the table.. but on the table leg so no one would notice it. hell, it'd even be better if Drazathak and the other 6 came back to the wheel, more fun. he grinned slightly, the darkness and the torches casting an eerie complextion to his face. he sheathed his knives, and placed his arms on the table, the his head on his hands, and dozed off to sleep, his thoughts drifting off to another day. -------------------------- Message 232 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 18 13:52:59 1997 EDT From: Serenio (#19730) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Space Time seemed to have stopped as a fervent power overtook the space capsule. The stalwart human male stood before her. He pressed his palms against her knees, slowly pushing her legs apart. With a quick thrust, the sliver blade of his dagger sliced into the soft flesh of her upper thigh. Exquisite pain flowed through her, pulling on ever nerve. Sernio bit her lower lip to keep from screaming out as she reached down touching the wound, her life source seeping, covering her finger in crimson nectar. Bringing her finger to the humans lips, a single drop to him she fed. Nothing could keep them apart now. Even Rathe and his meddling could not touch them, for the human had marked her as his and her blood coursed through him.... -------------------------- Message 233 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 18 16:32:15 1997 EDT From: Mercury (#16576) To: *Storylines (#5236) Mercury woke from a long fitful sleep inside his dingy tent. Wiping the drool from his chin, he spoke aloud to himself so not to forget. Ever since Dakirion did those things to his mind Mercury kept forgetting. This was important. Mercury could see the Hungry Place, great wide and open with a brutal sun burning high over the dead land. Something was wrong. He found himself repeating that with the words Hungry Place Place. Something had happened to something that he owned or considered to be his herd. He flew to the R/T building from Uruken, only to be distracted by a submariner who kept insisting that Mercury was an elephant. Mercury just decided to fall over on her. Her angry screams after him buffeted his back as he wandered back to the sandlock. As the sand whipped about his feet, he squinted his dim eyes thoughtfully and made his way to the Keep. It was still there, so everything /must/ be alright. Mercury wandered back towards the giant tree growing in the wastes, where he spent many a day sleeping and scratching his thick hide against it's bark. The tree was still there. Mercury scratched his head, looking to the horizon, if what was wrong wasn't out there, he might as well walk off the edge because that might be the only other place the wrongness could be. -------------------------- Message 234 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 19 12:40:21 1997 EDT From: Ynaoise (#11886) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: The price of destiny and betrayl (R - Adult themes) Ynaoise slept the sleep of the dead... Or dreaming... His dreams turned to that of his wife, Yjezra... And, as expected when a man dreams of his wife, those dreams turned... Interesting. After a long while, when he and Yjezra, in his dreams, were lying next to each other in bed, enjoying the time after making love together, he awoke, as Yjezra walked into the cavern carrying their child, Etien. He groggily asked if she had given him something to dream about, as he noticed the mess on the bed. She frowned, and accused Ynaoise of being unfaithful. Yna reached out with his mind, called Elshydrath to him, waking her from deep sleep also. She came to Draco, and both humans asked of the dragon what was going on. It was discovered that Yna had not been knowingly unfaithful, that someone had... accosted him in his sleep... Yjezra broke down, crying, and Yna left to go bathe, his sadness deepening. After several moments, Yjezra came to him, and he asked he for death, as he had betrayed her love and trust. She forgave him, holding him, driving away his depression, as Elshydrath's anger boiled over. (OOC: Elshydrath will be very careful around human females now, sniffing them first, then resuming her standard behavior. Yna will be very tight-lipped, and angry whenever Yjezra is not watching.) -------------------------- Message 235 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 19 22:36:07 1997 EDT From: Stryfe (#5113) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Upon wings of papery flesh The cloudless sky glittered high above Stryfe as he stood on the ledge of Mt. Uruken. His gaze never moving from some southwesternly direction, as if expecting something or someone to appear. It started as a speck, but rapidly grew in size. A V-formation of massive flying creatures was approaching with an understated sense of laziness. Stryfe could almost hear the wind whistling through thier bones in his mind. Seven large shapes landed around him. One of the smaller two walking towards him. "Did you find what you sought?" *Yes*, came the mental reply. "And it was where you thought?" *Yes*, seven pairs of glowing orbs lit up the ledge. Stryfe's smile look twisted in the glowing sickly light. "Excellent. The second part of our plan can then begin." -------------------------- Message 236 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 21 02:44:15 1997 EDT From: Vidaesmuerte (#16572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: R -Subject Material not so simple... Vida smiled. She had been rescued from an otherwise lonely and unwelcome fate. The fair doctor had come across her and tended to her wounds, fed and nourished her, as well as provided a bath and clothing for her disheveled appearance. He had done so much and simply required nothing. In her country that was not allowed to be. Her attraction for the man was simple. She found him charming and beautiful behind his ways, caring and compassionate for her, a total stranger. She did not feel alone any longer. She had helped the doctor let his worries down. She had helped him to accept 'Gratitude.' As they made love, the bathhouse heat was drawing... it's scent and heated water similar to that of their bodies own sweat. She had held to him, clinged to him as she had before when he assisted her. This 'gratitude' was the least she could show for his help. And their connection was like magic... Somehow, Vida felt his passion, perhaps, passion that was not satisfied elsewhere? How simply after a while of coaxing, had he given himself to her. She knew it was the way. Sleep had finally come to her.. blessed sleep. It had been three long days since her clash... three long days with nothing. With the Doctor's help again she had found sleep.. Again he had helped her. She smiled, her eyes closed, her hand resting gently over her stomach. Indeed. He deserved his gratitude. -------------------------- Message 237 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 22 16:02:48 1997 EDT From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: An ending Sitting up quietly in the darkness, she looked down at Kzin watching his eyes for movement. When she was absolutely sure that he was deep in dreams she climbed naked from the bed. Pulling a small travel chest from under the bed, reaching inside she removed articles from long ago. She dressed by the sliver of moonlight that fell from the window. The jewels that adorned the bodice of the silk gown sparkled, catching the moonlight, casting Kzin's face in soft rainbow colors. She shoved her weapons into a large duffel bag and piled her dirty, blood stained jeans and t-shirt into the chest, pushing it back under the bed. Leaning down she kissed Kzin softly as he slept. Taking one more look around the house before she headed out into the night dragging the duffel bag behind her. Checking her gps unit for the coordinates given to her by the strange cloaked person she finally found the tent in the desert. Entering the tent Smoke dropped the duffel bag, she looked up at the person trying to see their face but as usual it was hidden in the shadows of their hood. Without a word Smoke turned and ran back out into the desert, she had to hurry to get to the meeting place on time. Two others were waiting for her on the shores of Toosay, a mage and a subbie. She looked out over the sea, searching the dark waters. They waited for hours it seemed. Finally at daybreak, a tiny dot appeared on the horizon. They watched in fascination as the small dot grew larger taking shape of a large sailing vessel as it moved closer through the choppy seas. Five men rowed ashore in a mid sized dingy. They beckoned the three woman to move quickly. Smoke and her two companions boarded the dingy, hanging on for dear life as the waves crashed against the side of the small boat, spraying them with ice cold salt water. Soon they were out beyond the waves, closing in on the larger ship. Smoke turned and gazed back at the shore. One last look to the familiar landscape she had known for so long. She didnt know when or if she would return. Her heart felt like it was being pulled out, tears flowed freely down her face. She would miss Kzin desperately, she loved him more then life. But word had been sent, Lord Stephen was dead, it was time to return home. ooc Time to go for a while buckaroos. Thank you Quinn for allowing me the pleasure to play on your wonderful fantasy world. There are those I will miss greatly here, you know who you are. -------------------------- Message 238 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 22 18:21:34 1997 EDT From: Mercury (#16576) To: *Storylines (#5236) `Mercury feel great sadness in chest. Hurty deep down, Mercury feel as if even stupid lizard can smash Mercury and win.' Mercury just grabbed more beer and decided that would help the pain stop better. Mercury wiped his eye, hoping it would also wipe away the memory of the scene last night. Little Bird carried in looking dead in Mighty Red Fang's arms, his little wolf following. How Mercury heard how Little Bird had her insides scraped out, how Little Bird lost calf and possibly not being able to have calves anymore because of some recomb wolf. Even the music of Mercury's bagpipes couldn't wipe away the pain he felt for Jamie, one of his herd, one of his own. -------------------------- Message 239 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 23 12:52:36 1997 EDT From: Jamie (#18105) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: o/` wonder which way, which way the wind blows... o/` Jamie rolled over in the bed, Red's comm was beeping like crazy and within moments of answering it he was gone, sword in hand. She watched him leave, pushing back any worry that tried to creep in and instead focused on the recent events. Days had went by in the wastes with no food, no water. Just the hot sun and the brutal sands. She could barely open her eyes anymore then like a mirage a creature was there offering her water and healing her wounds as best he could. Ash... thats who it was, riding Yara's dragon friend. He seemed to be worried and .... Jamie frowned slightly. He didnt want her to go back to the Keep because it wasnt safe. But how did he know she got here from the Keep? Jamie sighed and slid her hand over the disappearing warmth of where Red had lain. The creature had taken her to Austin, locking her away in a dark theatre. Time meant nothing there. That is where she stayed until Red found her. Jamie pulled her hand back from the warm sheets, not wanting to feel any warmth. She felt so full of anger she didnt want to lose any to caring. Jamie thought back to the hazy time in the infirmary. Where had she gotten Hay? She remembered Red asking SKywalker about the baby and that Sky had fixed up any wounds the lizard hadnt been able to. Then she was in her hotel room on Toosay with Sky and Darci also. Red seemed so worried about the baby, she was bleeding he said.. but she wasnt, she knew she wasnt.. Red wanted Darci to do magic on her. MAGIC.. she told them No..no magic. Darci said she wouldnt, not without consent.. but then Red tricked her, whispering to her while Darci did her bloody witch magic while her attention was turned. She remembered reaching out for Darci, would have broken the witches wrist if Skywalker hadnt pried her hands away and she would have enjoyed hearing the witches arm snap, enjoyed it a hell of a lot. Jamie smirked and with that they took their leave, letting her turn her attention to Red. She hoped to hell he had a black eye or broken nose. Jamie frowned and brushed her dirty hair away from her face, he just kept saying he loved her. She had wrapped her arms around him and slept next to him, but it didnt stop her anger from coming back. He had magic used on her. How could he care so little... -------------------------- Message 240 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 23 18:21:04 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: one of them days.. Akane slinked across the courtyard of Drach'nal, hating to leave his sleeping wife in the middle of the night. His training had to come first.. running along the riverbend, he found the place. Desolation. Contemplation. These he all took into effect as he gathered as much magick as he could draw. The hunter and the hunted... The target, a creature which he could not comprehend. The creature swing and fired, shots going awry as Akane threw all the magic he could at it.. The creature seemed to only chuckle as Akane's magic hit.. a deep rumbling came. *A dragon?* he thought.. shaking his head. The creature drew out a blade.. swinging it in the air. Blood ribboned down Akane's chest, his shirt covered in hot crimson fluid.. Akane growled back the pain, reaching for a small dagger, drawing it out, and throwing it as hard as he could. The machine caught it, and laughed.. a low, gutteral laughter, but not humanoid.. mechanical. The creature took at shotgun from its side, and lowered it at Akane.. saying, "soon.. all your kind will perish.." and pulled the trigger, Akane's precious life force seeping from his cranium as his corpse hit the floor.. Akane then work up in a cold sweat, panting loudly as he remembered the dream set before him.. how the cyborg had attacked him, but not killed.. merely crippled. He would get his revenge.. he growled slightly, Appalene turning beside him.. "The winds of time are changing my dear cyborg.. and assuredly, they sure as hell are after you." he smiled darkly, white teeth gleaming against blood red lips. Akane calmly fell back asleep, the picture above the bed, that of Robitham, seemed to shimmer unearthly.. -------------------------- Message 241 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 23 18:35:00 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Sat in the summer sunshine of the Morlith gardens, watching Luthe's explorations. 'You must know this whole place by now!' she exclaimed at him, giggling as he eyed the many blooming flowers. He'd been with her two full months now, this sapphire... and she'd been a wife for a month as well. She smiled, it was nice, feeling so secure... And yet, she was troubled by dark memories. The other evening in the lounge had been terrible, it was no wonder she was such a hermit most of the time. Ever since -- well, ever since she'd been sick, the only place she'd felt truly safe and happy had been on the Mount. She lay back on the grass, driving the image and stench of the cremation of Lykaj out of her mind. It made her heart pound... fire images were all to familiar to her... her hand absently twisted at the silver ring on her right hand, a habit she had (for a time) thought lost to her. She looked at the silver rin more closely. It contrasted in more ways than one with her shining golden bridal band - the silver was several battered, dented, and scratched... the once clear Gaelic inscription rendered almost illegible. Syyrl had given it to her... what seemed like eons ago. ~~ 'Lyetra Ciaranhe.. I ask you to be my bride. to love me always. Please don't say no..' Syyrl's voice echoed against the walls of Time. She'd cried then, weeping for joy... her dark haired boy, her Irish lad.. She was to become Lyetra Tourish! ~~ Luthe crooned in her ear, jolting her back to reality.. to the present. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks; if only she hadn't seen Red-Fang perform that fire! The golden flash on her left hand brought her back even more quickly than Luthe's attentions. As his tail curled protectively around her wrist (he had a bad habit of latching on to the first bit of her presented), Luthe nuzzled her hair. 'Come out of the past, Ylaerin..' She said to herself, and buried her face against the glimmering hide of her dragonfriend. -------------------------- Message 242 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 23 23:54:08 1997 EDT From: Eponine (#3791) To: *Storylines (#5236) Eponine wakes as her alarm blares with tenacity. She stretches and smiles at the body beside her, hidden under a mound of covers. She wonders about him for a moment, this person who'd been a stranger twelve hours ago. Kinniver and his Outlaw mech. She had only to meet him... and she knew he was perfect. That way he smiled, his laugh, he was so full of life. She never imagined she'd be so bold with someone so quickly. He stirs beside her and she brushes her fingertips across his face. He smiles in his sleep and she sighs. He is a rogue... and she has fallen in love with him. She quietly prays he agrees to join her Tribe. -------------------------- Message 243 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 01:29:42 1997 EDT From: Nigel (#7159) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *Beastmasters (#6961) Subject: Schism Nigel edged carefully from the bed. Ylise was asleep...had fallen asleep at last, after staying up how long worrying about him? It was still dark, early morning by the feel of the air. He had told her he was fine... anyone else might have believed the lie. Nigel sighed, it was all such a jumble. The death... such a foolish choice. Now, he realized that... at the time? He had almost repented his decision too late. Would have repented it too late, if not for Phantos... If not for all of them... Phantos, Ylise, Thyvoras'rath... they had come for him. Risked the perilous limbo between the Eagle's domain and... what...was beyond. Ylise...risking herself to find him... giving herself to him when he lacked the strength to follow the path home the others provivided... they were one for a moment there... Ylise and him... their thoughts, their dreams... their memories... Nigel staggered, slipping half off the bed and catching himself with his arm, jarring the elbow. His eyes glazed as another wave of memories washed over him. Faces...voices...scants, oh the scents... everything so strange, so alien. He shook his head, He closed his eyes, breathing deeply once, twice and stood up...walking to the large mirror inset in one of the walls. He gazed at himself fixing his image in his mind...this was him..this...was.... He shook his head. No, it was wrong. All wrong...the hair... it should be red, shouldn't it? He remembered his hair being red... -------------------------- Message 244 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 05:18:50 1997 EDT From: Meoni (#9687) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: RATED R: Violence. Not for the kiddies. Meoni padded down the corridors of Mt. Uruken anxiously, jumping at shadows or the slightest creak or sound around her. She feared him finding her, stopping her from leaving. She never thought this possible, to finally be free, to no longer be one man's slave to dance for and please with automatic smiles. The pavillion was void of life and she breathed a sigh of relief as she scooped up her ivory box, the one possession she had and couldn't part with. She had been warned not to return to the pavillion... Stryfe had said he would deal with her master, but she had to have the box. She turned to sneak back out the door when a violent wind snatched her off her feet and slammed her against the wall. She felt the air leave her lungs with an audible sigh and the box tumbled from her arms, shattering on the ground. It's contents spilled everywhere, scattered by the wind. "Meoni, tell me something," Justinien's voice was colder then normal as he entered the room, "do I look like a fool to you?" Meoni opened her mouth to speak, but found no words to utter. "Silence, bitch! You've already caused enough trouble for me." His voice retained that calm, but shook ever so slightly with rage. Meoni was actually afraid of what he might do. The wind released her as he crossed the room and she fell into his arms like a rag doll. He held her close and stroked her ebony hair like someone cherishing a child. She trembled, uncertain. Then he jerked her back and slapped her across the face, sending her reeling to the floor with a thud. She felt the familiar seperation at that point... her mind splitting from her body and floating to the ceiling. From that vantage point, she watched him kick her animated body several times as he snarled and ranted and raged at her unfaithfulness. Then he attached the collar around her throat and left her there, stalking off for parts unknown. Feeling it was safe, she returned to her battered body and groaned as the pain settled in. With a picking of the lock around the collar, she was out the door, without her broken box... Stryfe was not in his pavillion and Dahlia lay sleeping... Meoni curled up on her cot and wept quietly, trying to ignore her wounds... within and without. -------------------------- Message 245 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 09:58:30 1997 EDT From: Uziel (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) ' Uziel smiled as the tiny nanocircuit wafer slid firmly into place inside of his cranial cavity. Uziel was in a good mood....if one could believe that cyborgs could experience such feelings. Still, much had occurred in the last few days that had changed his meager existance. First, he had completely altered his previously outdated form, taking upon himself, a newer, deadlier one. Second, he had analyzed and reviewed his previous performance records to produce a better formulated strategy of attack in his continuing war against reality deviants as sited by his directives. Third, he had successfully integrated elements of the Kilmore MAD 42 unit's personality engrams into his own neural network meshing and combining them with those of the old ARMX unit to produce his new consciousness. ' Uziel almost laughed as he contemplated how different he had become in his present incarnation. It many ways, his new personality was the perfect disguise. There were few who suspected his new existance, an advantage he intended to press to its maximum limitation. Already he had successfully attacked and mortally wounded the magister named Akane in a surprisingly well executed assassination. A pity that his target had been saved by his wife, ironically enough, the very weakness he had used to draw him out and isolate him in the first place. Still, he could not be held responsible for the random element of chance. Uziel smiled again as he tossed a baseball-sized sphere up and down in his right hand and contemplated his next target. Timing would be crucial, the target would have to be drawn out carefully, and isolated from his compatriots. Once he weaved his web around the target......there would be....no escape. -------------------------- Message 246 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 10:10:45 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: wolf in sheeps clothing? Jae looked up as she felt his eyes on her. Harrison was back, and he wanted her. Jae, still weak from her trek to get to R/T, couldn't put up much of a fight as Harrison knocked her unconscious. Before she slipped into the unknown, she saw Corwin, then blackness surrounded her. Waking up stripped and frightened, Jae stumbled around the tent looking for her things. She spied them over in the corner but couldn't hardly move for her head ached terribly where Harrison had hit her. Suddenly a hand snaked around her wrist as she heard Harrison whisper, "Jae you are mine. You owe me and now it's time to pay up. Jae spat in his face and rasped out, "I don't owe you Harrison and I never will." Harrison drew her own dagger on her. Trembling she looked at Harrison, "You want to kill me Harrison? Go ahead, sweet justice it will be to have my father's dagger thrust into my chest." Just then Jae felt the cool blade slice into her left thumb. Tears pricked her eyes but she stayed silent. Harrison leaned close to her ear, his breath warm against her neck, "Next time I'll cut it off Jae, and ever finger after that until you realize your fate." Broken and cut with a mind filled with pain, Jaelene relented. Always in her mind she thought, "You will pay for this Harrison.. you will pay." Harrison slept like a baby after using Jaelene as his whore. His even breathing her only sign that he wouldn't wake. Spying her bag and pouch with all her belongings again, she crawled out of the tent. As she turned to leave she stopped and whispered, "my dagger.." and went back to the tent. Frightened he'd hear her, she fumbled around the tent musing, "It's gotta be here somewhere." Feeling the cold blade on her hand she crawled back out. Her dagger, her father's dagger, the only thing of his she ever had. -------------------------- Message 247 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 10:59:39 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: friend or foe Jaelene knew she had to recouperate, but her mind wouldn't let her. The constant throb in her thumb reminding her that Harrison would be back and this time her luck may run out. So train she did, from dawn to dusk until she fell into a fitfull sleep. It was during her training on Jizo that she met Toraxyn. Completely wary, she held herself back from him. Toraxyn offered to help her but wanted to know, "Jae, why do you train so hard? What drives you?". The comfort of his voice compelled her to relay her recent experience with Harrison to him. Harrison threw his head back in laughter, "Harrison? That wimp?? Jae, you need not fear him, I can protect you." Jaelene looked at Toraxyn, "But you barely know me. Besides that, I don't need protecting." With that, Jaelene walked off. Toraxyn, not one to hear "No" from a woman was quite intrigued and went after her. He watched her as she improved hourly. Toraxyn was amazed at her strength of will yet noticeable vulnerability. He watched her work herself weary until no longer could he just stand by. He grabbed her arm to stop her, "Jae come with me. You need rest." His voice, sincere and comforting drew her. At the Heiffer, they sat and talked. Jaelene regalled him with stories of her parents. Romanticizing her father as she spoke of him and the dagger he left her, yet speaking harshly of the mother that left her with nothing but the dolphin tattoo to remind her of her people. Interrupted by Rathe and Hannibal, Jaelene left the bar and Toraxyn to think about the emotions he was stirring inside her... -------------------------- Message 248 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 11:01:40 1997 EDT From: Khyber (#12460) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: This should be an interesting experience. Drazathak slammed its tail into a nearby tree, toppling it over like it was a mere toothpick, "We have a female on the mount who insults at a whim!" it growling as it looked towards Khyber "Knight, you will either deal with this, or I'll make you pay." it snarled, and Khyber leaned against the wall, "Drazathak my friend, she was picked by Stryfe to be an errant.. nothing I can do." he shrugged noncommitedly, and Drazathak growled unearthly, grabbing Khyber within its grasp with a giant clawed paw, "Knight! you will try or I will do worst to you than I did when I was using half my strength." Khyber gasped within the mighty Wyrm's hold, but nodded, "I..I'll see what I can do." Drazathak almost seemed to smile in a draconic manner, releasing Khyber to the ground with a dull thud, Khyber shook his head, looking up at Drazathak, "Mighty Wyrm.. I will try.." and Drazathak merely nodded, melting the tree to mere bubbling fluids with a snort. Khyber wasn't having much luck lately it seems.. but Aislyn's child was on the way, which was all the happiness he needed for now. A new member of the OOW? she'll have to respect us, or else.. she'll just get punished the hard way.. a one way trip off Uruken's ledge. Stryfe would take no slackers to his code, which Khyber admired.. and respected. Khyber polished his sabre, watching the light reflect off the silver blade.. he grinned, knowing the time would soon come, when the Order would be more feared than hated, and this was good.. -------------------------- Message 249 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Apr 24 12:39:57 1997 EDT From: Jasper (#17572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another day in paradise... (Dunno about a rating, give it an R just in case she gets in that swearing like a sailor mode.) Jasper sat up, stretching like a cat. Yawning, she rubbed the side of her head, sending her braids skittering across her shoulders with a quiet jingle of beads and bits of irridescent shell... It took her a moment to remember who the lump curled around her waist was, his arm falling limply to the side as she shifted her body forward. She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she thought about how innocent it was, and how no one would ever believe either one of them on that account. It didn't really matter, after all, they had both earned their reputations, and there was no changing that now, even if they wanted to. Grabbing her boots from the side of the bed, she tugged them on absently as she looked at the stacks of papers and blueprints scattered about the room. There had been a time when they seemed so much more important, when everyone hadn't been counting on her to see them through, make sure they survived in spite of the renegades, the slaggers, and whatever other strangeness the wastes would belch forth in her time as leader. It had been easier to listen, spin her wrench, and fix whatever needed fixing. Amazing how she had gone from fixing mechs to fixing the pilots, over time. Strange the way times change... she thought. With a last look over at her sleeping companion, she smiled unconciously. "Sleep it off, gorgeous. You need it." Pushing herself to her feet, she tied her horsetail back around her waist, and headed out into the main body of the hangar. She was a bit more quiet than usual, and a few murmured something under their breath that she probably wasn't meant to hear about their leader apparently beginning to get old. She grinned up at them in response, and they quickly found things to keep them busy, chuckling to themselves. She glanced back at the door, wondering for a moment if he would notice that she wasn't there when he woke... then cursed quietly at herself for even thinking about it. -------------------------- Message 250 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 01:07:02 1997 EDT From: Mueva (#9687) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rated... Mueva curled up on the ledge of Mt. Uruken, bones creaking and scales flaking off her putrid hide. She watched Drazathak take to the air with his pet, Khyber and snarled once they were out of ear shot. How dare he challenge her that way. Attacking her newly claimed pet without so much as asking for permission. Not only that, but now she had lost her second pet, that new girl, Dahlia. She was nearly as amusing as Meoni. Mueva pouted to herself until her pet wandered onto the ledge, bruised and beaten. Mueva snarled at the sight, no one harmed her pet unless Mueva authorized it first! Meoni admitted to it being her former, FORMER, master Justinien, who had the gaul to think he still owned Mueva's pet. Oh, this would have to be dealt with, and swiftly. She sent her pet off to bed and settled her ancient bones down to think awhile. Drazathak would have to be handled, as would this Justinien. She had much planning to do indeed. -------------------------- Message 251 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 01:16:35 1997 EDT From: Stryfe (#5113) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Progress Stryfe closed the door to the chamber, pausing only to light a nearby torch. The torch sputtered before finally blazing, throwing dancing shadows on the walls, floor and ceiling. A smile ghosted across his features as his eyes adjusted to the light. "There they are." Reaching into his belt pouch he removed a smooth obsidian stone, it fit snugly into his palm. In moments it pulsed, jagged white lines appearing. It was almost as if the stone was close to bursting apart with the power held inside. Holding the stone aloft he concentrated. He was rewarded by a seeping mist around the items he had searched for. He smiled. -------------------------- Date: Sun, 13 Jul 1997 16:09:40 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@netsville.com Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 252 - 352 from *Storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.bga.com 6969) Message 252 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 01:22:19 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Worry Rathe slumped down against the wall next to his bed, shaking his head at his own actions. Why had he been so hasty? Ikaris had always annoyed him, and the emotions he felt towards Coreen---emotions he had tried to keep under control--had always been there. Why had he acted on both hatred and the other at the same time.. What was this? He did not know. Lust? Love? Simple curiosity? His understanding of Coreen seemed to grow less each day, every day she became more confusing, and now, when she was more confusing than ever before, he chose to pursue her.. Rathe chuckled. Real bright, that was. His thoughts drifted to Lyetra, now married to Yshar, and soon to be bonded to a dragon. He had experienced all this before, with Etra. Was it safe to return this weakness? Or was the weakness there all along? Rathe had lost track of how many times he had risked his life to save--or at least attempt to save--Coreen's life.. Perhaps this fault had been simply hidden after he left Coreen, not destroyed.. This would have to be remedied.. Shaking his head, Rathe rose and concentrated on the far wall, tracing several intricate symbols in the air. An obsidian target forming from the tiles below, and Rathe smiled, dark energy slowly beginning to swirl about his right fist. Raising his hand, he pointed with index and middle fingers, a single dart of dartfire racing forth, striking the target firmly and shattering it.. He smiled. Destruction was always a good way to draw his mind away from such troubling matters. So..... Relaxing. -------------------------- Message 253 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 01:25:22 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: typo Second paragraph, second to last line. Shoulda been `Left Lyetra'... Kids, a word to the wise, never try to post anything while sleep deprived and using @qsend.. --Rathe -------------------------- Message 254 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 02:07:13 1997 EDT From: Bram (#17137) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Horns Aplenty The sweet pungent smell of burning incense fill the small chamber, Bram sits in the center of a magick circle, sweat rolling down his mostly nude body in small rivulets. The thick pillar candles set at the compass points of the circle, once unused, burn fitfully at the ends of their wicks. Floating in the air before him was a spiralling unicorn's horn. The horn is bathed in a soft, black nimbus, every so often giving off a white spark as if the horn is fighting the dark magicks. Slowly the pristine whiteness gives way to the black nimbus, draining as if the horn was bleeding. After it is black the horn falls to the floor with a clatter, rolling out of the circle. Bram crumples in an exhausted heap. The thick pillar candles gutter and die one by one, bathing the room in darkness. -------------------------- Message 255 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 08:46:58 1997 EDT From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: An interesting night Coreen had staggered home, half-drunk, half-tired, and had surprisingly made it to her tent before collapsing into a daze. She fell into a light sleep, the first she'd had in days, and her thoughts drifted over the night's events. Ikaris, being as bloody pushy as ever...thinking with his damn balls instead of his brain. Memories of his hands beneath her robes, undressing and massaging her made her chuckle. It wasn't as if he hadn't been laid recently...she had indeed taken care of that. Then there was Rathe... she had always known he had certain feelings for her...she had seen it in his eyes and in his actions; his saving her numerous times...punishing Ikaris and Toraxyn, but not her.... Now he made attempts at her? It made no sense. She awoke a few hours later, her head throbbing like it had been his numerous times by a sledge hammer...the hangover from hell. She grumbled, trying to ignite the candles magically, but found her headache to cumbersome. She grumbled even more bitterly, rolling back over. Ikaris wanted her to choose... How unfair...why should she make up her mind? If they were stupid enough to become enamoured with her, they should solve it themselves... Bloody stupid men... She had no idea what she would do, now... Either way, someone was going to get hurt, and be vengeful...and she would get caught in the middle. Maybe she should join a church and take a vow of celibacy... She should have chuckled, but the pain in her head and the thoughts rolling through her head prevented her. Life was unfair...so why should this be any different? Coreen rolled over, grumbling and managed to snag a few more hours of pained sleep... -------------------------- Message 256 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 17:15:21 1997 EDT From: Ylise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Long days, long years almost seem to lead to tears.. OOC- No really vivid description of violence, but much is insinuated.. so ... Ylise arose early in the morning. Sleep no longer seemed to be a need for her. She had slept little during the past weeks and for some reason it had not affected her. Naked in form, she silently practiced the moves she would need to fight her nightmares. She felt a strange hollowness and a vision rushed through her... it was the darkness, then flashes... *flash* Komodo fighting her *flash* Weapons drawn *Flash* her weapons strike *flash* HEr stumbling fall *flashflash* Her body pressed under him... *flashflash* her scream... The pictures were in rapid continual succession. The only sound that of a lone chilling voice.. its sound seething an inprint into her brain.. "You are mine Ylllisssseee.." The thoughts changed now to a stranger collection... the pictures of her long searching lover ... his blackened heart and hating ways. She would have been gone by now. She should have left this place before he could find her. She knew he was near, and though the scars on her body were faded nearly gone, the large burn in her back showed clearly how close he had been. The cut was in the shape of the greek letter for end... destruction. Her destruction. Her conciousness swirled to the present. Her moves were focused, concice.. They seemed flow, almost as if they were instinct in her. He had been only one step from killing her entirely. One step before taking her away from what she had known. She had to keep such from happening. How she longed to flee! How she longed to move on and away, as her service had called her to do so many years ago. She would not stay in a land long enough that she could be found. But she had let her life be taken, changed. Her want to leave was still so strong, yet she knew she could not. Her eyes met the sleeping form of Nigel. He had grown distant since the death, since the strange joining they had shared. He indeed took it in light different from her own. Something in her husband's eyes however, made her see his change, even more so than his outright behavior. Yet it was still too unnoticable to really know. Her own mind was a confusion of thought, of sights of visions. The movements still flowed, she still practiced, but she was lost with other things. She had to rectfy the disorder of her life... There was no way to escape. She had for once, chosen her fate. -------------------------- Message 257 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 17:25:44 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: OOooo. [Rated? why should it be? you don't like mild violentary thoughts, don't read it? :) ] Akane sat in his bed, growling behind dilated eyes. *boy them whiskeys were sure good eh Akane?* a voice boomed in his head. Akane smirked to himself, drawing the covers off and hopping out of bed as nimbly as a cat. *Kill Ikaris* the voice boomed again, *you know he'll only be your downfall*. Akane had to laugh, "Ikaris my downfall?" he murmured to himself.. not believing his thoughts.. sure, Ikaris had burnt the hair Akane had taken from the bloody and collapsed figure of Ikaris, but what of it? Ikaris would whine to his teacher as usual.. that was his weakness.. he couldn't fend for himself. Akane watched with a laugh at the lounge as Ikaris looked down Coreen's robes, how he did Robitham knows what under that robe.. reminded him of Yshar and DarkAngel.. only Ang actually responded back to Yshar's responses.. Akane laughed out loud, almost waking his sleeping wife.. he heard rumors Ikaris threatening to try and take the Spellsinger guild hall, the doors are always open in the lounge.. much can be heard from its small doorway, #Now# Akane thought.. #I will have to destroy Ikaris#.. the thought brought a grin to his face, and he looked up at the picture of Robitham.. #damn..# he thought.. #almost as if you are watching me Master..# he smiled at the painting.. which seemed unearthly alive, and he shrugged it off, downing another whiskey. *The mere seeker Ikaris is nothing..* the voice in his head screamed, making Akane's head throb even more.. "nothing.." Akane whispered aloud.. grinning slightly, and heading out the door. -------------------------- Message 258 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Apr 25 23:07:43 1997 EDT From: Elendil (#2237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Night I crest the tree-line and stop as the cool breeze drifts over me, heavy with the tingle of the sea. The rocky beach is quiet now as dusk falls, the sun a cool crimson shard against the farthest reach of the breaking waves. I turn my gaze upwards, seeking Her. She glimmers there, softly gentling my unease, and the pain nearly takes me. The sand is soft beneath my boots and my soul cries out to go, down the long stretch of sand and into the embrace of the dark waves, to dive long, deep, to peace, silence, and long-earned sleep. To let them break in an instant all that for which I have fought for and planned for all my life. A storm is coming. Far out along the curve of the horizon clouds gather, blotting out the remains of the setting sun. The air is filled with the metallic tang of impending lightning and the wind begins, snapping my cloak out behind me. The faint crackle of the storm reaches me, lightning dancing from cloud to cloud and wavetop and I raise my heavy mace skyward to honor it. The rain begins and I let it wash me, growing strong again beneath this wonder of the air-filled world. Renewed, I force my loss down into a compartment in my mind, a strong place where mine enemies cannot reach. I remember other faces now, friends long lost to fell purpose or deed, and they are misted, their wrongs righted. Yet a new face joins them, a brilliant light snuffed by a dark tempest beyond his experience or strength, and I feel my face tighten against the prying grip of an uncaring world. My duty binds me now and I will face his grieving family with full-told vengeance, or never again this side of the Outer Sea. A dark form breaks clear of the wind-rustled trees behind me and halts, giving me for another moment the peace I cling to. Then, it is gone. 'It is time,' he states simply, and I close the visor to my helm, blocking the beckoning scent of the sea with the antiseptic bite of my environmental suit. It begins. -------------------------- Message 259 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 26 15:30:18 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Note found tacked to the wall in the R/T lounge: To whom it may concern: Recently searching jizo, I have found the remains of what I beleive to be the recomb Jayren. He seems to have died from a magical cause, although I found no sign of a struggle, or trace of any humans within the dwelling. Found near the corpse was a book belonging to Avolent, and a suit of some form of armor. If any of his packmates, friends, et cetera read this notice, please contact me via communicator or letter reguarding burial and whom to give these items to. Thank you, Rathe, Earth Mage of the Spellsingers -------------------------- Message 260 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Apr 26 17:44:21 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Chat (#5391) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Experiments Don't come into an RP situation and RP with me and then port out via @home, saying it was an experiment. Don't pick a fight with my character and then leave before the scene is done. If you want to ask questions about RP and combat, ask them OOCly by means of pages or mail. -------------------------- Message 261 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 27 04:59:48 1997 EDT From: Cora (#5512) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Cora's Story Cora staggered into the R/T Lounge, falling at the feet of a tall woman in shining armor and coal black hair. Her wounds were mortal, the poison rushing through her body and she knew she had little time. She gasped out her story to the Lady, who laid her hands over Cora's wounds, healing her and taking the poisons from her body. Cora sobbed, having failed to protect The Touched placed in her care from the vile attack, now honest death denied her. She gave Sylph's Staff of the Star to the Mage, along with her own trident, *she didnt want either falling into the hands of the Aesirs as she returned to try and find her Lady*, and the special gps that Griffen had made for Sylph. She begged the Lady to return the items to her Lord Elendil, and tell him what had occurred and that she was returning to find her lady. With that, Cora turned and left the lounge. She returned to the deep ocean currents, searching for her mistress, entering the dark cold currents of the Aesir territories. -------------------------- Message 262 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 27 08:56:03 1997 EDT From: Aquilya (#4188) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Uplifting. Aquilya lit the candles with a snap of her fingers and the light fanned out across the temple ritual room, casting shadows that danced and writhed on the walls and floor. She dropped her robes and stepped through the circle, to the alter in the center of the room, facing the East. With her arms spread with the palms up, she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the ceiling. A single thought filled her mind, *Dance for me, that I might come to you* Her arms snaked and her waist twisted as she followed the familiar patterns, burned into her mind by practice and experience. She felt the glow of Ghede fill her to the brim, her extremities tingling and her heart racing. The world around her shifted. *Open your eyes, daughter* The temple ritual room was gone, replaced by a babbling stream surrounded by the forests of homeland. She gasped in surprised, never had the lwa called her here, to their home. Not even when she discovered her mage abilities and Ghede claimed her as his Priestess. *"Welcome home, Daughter. It is time," Ghede spoke to her from the water. She gazed at the reflection in wonder, seeing the face of a strikingly handsome man clad in black robes. Her mouth struggled to work, but her voice was gone. "Use your mind, child. Here, words are meaningless." Aquilya asked what it was time for. "For you to advance. You have trained with different teachers, but they have essentially taught you what you must know. And I will show you the rest..." A rift opened, slicing through the tranquilty of their surroundings. *Enter and be tested, pass and you will gain more knowledge, fail and you are not worthy to be Priestess to Ghede any longer.* Aquilya swallowed and entered the nebulous fabric. She found herself in front of a mirror, warped and distorted, the images it revealed where comical and false. She studied it for a long while, then touched it with one hand. *What do you see, my daughter?* *I see... falsity. It is distorted.* The mirror shifted and she saw Claire's body burning in the Christian's pyre, her mouth hung open in a howl of pain. Aquilya felt hot hatred burning inside of herself. She had been only 20 when they burned Mama Claire in the name of their unforgiving God. *Do you feel it? Feed it, daughter, feed it. From hatred grows power. Utilize it. Never let it destroy you with sorrow or greif.* The Mirror exploded in a flash of blinding light and Aquilya lifted her arms to sheild her face and eyes. When she lowered them again, she was in the N'Orleans graveyard, Metairie... but this was a only a shadow of it. *Feel that hatred again, Daughter.* She drew on that power, that energy and thrust her hands into the ground, almost without thought to what she was doing. The earth trembled and she almost lost control till Ghede's voice centered her. >From the ground rose the skeletal remains of an unknown human. It staggered about, disoriented, then sank back into the ground harmlessly. *Close your eyes, Daughter, you have passed your test.* She felt a harsh wind sting her flesh as her eyes closed. The world shifted about her again. *Welcome home, Magistra.* She opened her eyes and found herself lying at the foot of her altar, her body bathed in sweat. -------------------------- Message 263 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 27 11:00:40 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Dream Rosa Leigh yawned sleepily as Rathe tucked her into to sleep. Casting Mindspear spells was always tiring. Rosa Leigh snuggled down under the covers, her tiny feet moving restlessly as she sucked her thumb. Slowly, Rosa Leigh's human conscienceness slips away into the soft world of dreams. A soft well of blackness settled around Rosa as she looked around curious and a little frightened. She could see nothing, feel nothing. Flapping her wings didn't move her any or if it did she couldn't sense it. Rosa let out a soft whimper of fear. "Rashe?? Rashe???" She sat in that inky blackness for seeming an eternity when softly in the distance she could hear a soft whispery voice calling her name... Rosa Rosa... Rosa Leigh.... At first relieved Rosa tried to crawl towards the voice but found that she couldn't move. Slowly the voice grew louder harsher and uglier. ROSA ROSA >..... ROSA LEIGH!.. Rosa screamed in fright and tried to crawl away from the voice but she was still pinned in the inky blackness. THe voice's decibal level rised to piercing levels, exploding Rosa Leigh's ear drums. She screamed in pain as she buckled over, blood running from her ears. She clasped her tiny hands to her head tightly to stop the blood as she raised her eyes to stare at the swirling grey shapeless faces that suddenly surrounded her.... Whimpering softly ROsa called out for help, "rash... ras...ra..." but her cries weakened as the shadows took form and swelled around her tiny body the faces melding and surging with each as they twisted around her in demonic delight. SHrieking her name and laughing the faces pelted her with Rosa's favorite flower, pansy's but as the pansies fell they turned into razor sharp poisoned needles that sunk into her flesh. ROsa let out an anguished wail as she was slowly needled to death. Rosa Leigh jerked up into a sitting position screaming on her bed. The covers had been thrown off in her dream and she sat there shrivering wildly in fear. Her wide purple eyes darted around the room, trying to reassure Rosa that it was only a dream. Crieing Rosa summoned and shadow and crawled weakly into it insearch of Rathe.... Rathe would know what do. Rosa chanted this reassuring thought to herself as she crawled out of the shadow and into the R/t Building... straight into Ash's arms. Rosa screamed again in horror as she crawl flew away in terror to Rathe's angry yells and Ash's desperate pleadings for to come back.. It wasn't a dream... It wasn't a dreamm..... Rosa cried as Rathe swooped her up and carried her away to Ash's mournful howls of pain. Rosa stared ahead blankly wide eyed as Rathe yelled at her for coming to the r/t building. Rosa tried to tell him about her bad dream but it didn't seem to pacify him so Rosa slipped into her only escape, her dreams. but her dreams were now her hells... -------------------------- Message 264 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 27 17:38:57 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Sequence of Dreams Life was slowly becoming a pattern for her. Long days of idleness, too many gins to speak of, and nights at her husband's side where sleep was slow to come. Axelle was becoming restless inside. If not for the happiness and fulfillment Kynwal brought to her life, she would have been missing her former exploits - the adventures and excitement of her past newly idealized in her memories. She began to spend more time alone. She went for long walks along the plains and shores. She thought about her life, this life she shared with her family...this life that seemed to provide and endless amount of people who requested her help. She was changing it seemed. More often than not, she was quick to heal and quick to undo wrong. What the hell was happening? It was only the few outbursts of anger that she experienced, while interacting with disrespectful people, that reassured her that she was still the bitch she loved to be. Wasn't she? On a walk one day, she stumbled across an unusual place. A hole it seemed, an eerie cavern infested by the putrefied stench of rotting flesh. There was a corpse there as well a suit of some kind of armour...and a book. Not really understanding why, she took them all from their grave, an idea in her mind. Her studies of reanimation could always be practiced. That night, she had slept deeply with unfitful dreams inside her head. She was someone else...younger. It was merely fantastical but yet even as she woke come morning, it seemed so real. In the depths of sleep she didn't notice the corpse aglow inside the box she had placed it in. The unusual skeletal frame had guided her dreamstate. And it was not nearly finished with her. -------------------------- Message 265 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Apr 27 19:37:12 1997 EDT From: recomb_corpse (#10514) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A reawakening. dark... cold... Those were its first impressions. somehow, it thought death was going to be different. When dakiron made it, they regretted it. Its owner, a very wealthy and excentric old man had given him his freedom just before he died. The man did give it somethings, a laptop, and a special suit of armor. The armor was specially designed for it, making it an impenetrable fortress. After all, it couldn't see to gauge oncoming attacks, it needed all the help it could get. It had a long life, and at the end it had an encounter with an evil mage. The mage was able to kill it easily, because it wasn't wearing its armor at the time. Now, it rests in the void, unable or unwilling to return from the eagle's talons. Then, something disturbs its thoughts. A magic user, sensative to the dead has found its corpse. It stirs quietly waiting to see what the magic user will do. It feels sorry for the magic user as it knows what she's about to go through. However, chance led her to the corpse. Perhaps she won't go insane. -------------------------- Message 266 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 28 03:45:59 1997 EDT From: Deirdriu (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rumors from Morlith! Yggidrasil, Rider of Emeral Kisanth, and his wife Deirdriu, Podara of the Druids, reportly have become the parents of triplets, Naomi, Kitara and Brigitte. -------------------------- Message 267 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 28 05:48:40 1997 EDT From: Axelle (#9124) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Witch She was alone no longer. There seemed to be an entity trying to merge with her own being now. Brillant emerald green eyes flecked with spots of shimmering blue. A soul that was not unlike her own begged entrance...a witch's soul. Across dimensions. She was trying to possess Axelle's body, mind and spirit. She ached to breathe life again. No, it wasn't the corpse that was her body -- but she seemed linked to it. Somehow. Blue eyes shining brightly with triumph. A seizure which leaves her vomiting on the floor. And then darkness for a few hours...maybe more. And as she awakes, the eyes are pale green and unaware. A long thread of soul energy slips from her form and she examines it carefully. Eyes of darkest emerald they appear black. A frown crosses her face. She knows. The reanimation had to happen soon. Had to. -------------------------- Message 268 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 28 14:18:42 1997 EDT From: Yggidrasil (#10625) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Daughters rated pg-13. Yggy groaned as the morning rolled around, he'd bee up all night trying to amuse all three children to fall asleep. Deirdriu had done great she slept like a baby, too bad his newly born daughters didn't. And these kids had a set of lungs, when he had finally got them to bed he had a ringing sound in his ears. He stared in adoration at all three of them, they had his soft blond hair, but they were almost the exact likeness of their mother. Yggy was going to need to build a nursery, he'd had a hard enough time making that table in the smithy, he'd have to watch over all three of them too. Yggy sighed and crawled into bed his head pounding and extremely tired it didn't take a second more than when he touched the pillow to fall asleep. That night he dreamed, Warriors, blades sword flashing before his eyes. He noticed this was in the living cavern, there was a fight of some sort going on morlith! He saw no dragons only struggling to keep back each attacker, barely seeing more than robed faces, all indistinguishedable from the other. He fled back into his cavern and to his found it empty. He paniced as he was drawn into a corner and a blade hit him upside the head, darkness descended. Gasping he woke up it was only a nightmare, but he had always thought that dreams had some relevance on life. Getting back to his feet he wandered the empty mount talking to Kisanth about the dream. He decided it was time, the next time he saw Yjezra he'd talk to her about finally defending morlith, Lykaj spoke to Ylise on the helipad he was threatening to come here, all it would take is an oppurtunity and who knows what would happen. Yggy wanted to make sure when that oppurtunity came, when the choices were made thy were prepared. -------------------------- Message 269 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 28 16:00:51 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin lay beside her husband, grumbling at the mild wave of nausea that was sweeping over her. She was grateful to Yjezra for the herbs that had saved her so much worry, though, however unpleasant the side effects were. She wished that she hadn't been brought to this length, but what was done was done. It looked to be a down week.. maybe she'd had it coming to her, what with so much happiness lately. And wasn't it just like Anansi to take a random jab at her.. his artfully poisoned dagger had scored her well. As she's told Yshar and Yggy, she wasn't scared of him - just angry - and she hadn't been scared at all until she realized she was dying of it. Yshar had seemed to begrudge simply paying off the beastmaster without exacting any sort of revenge, but Ylaerin had been given the antidote.. and Strafe may very well have hunted Anansi down and had his revenge. Ylaerin didn't know about that, though, and didn't want to. Her only concern had been wether or not she was with child - despite her brazen words to Anansi, she was uncertain - and so here she was now, nauseous with the herbal remedy she'd taken to save herself and her family from bringing into the world a child harmed by poison. There'd also been that matter of voodoo.. if only Yshar would keep his mouth shut at the right times! She turned on her side to face him, he slept so quietly. Love swelled within her, and she forgot her nausea and her troubles. She snuggled in closer to him.. all would be well, if she'd just relax and let it. Destiny would have its way.. -------------------------- Message 270 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 28 19:15:41 1997 EDT From: Yalindra (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A troubled night Yalindra woke alone in a cold bed, dried tears on her cheeks. The silence was positively unbearable. SHe laid back on her pillow and sighed, relfecting over the past night's events... She had gone down with Devon to the R/T...she hated leaving Myr alone, but she needed to go down occasionally as Devon was reluctant to be cooped up on the Mount, or go down alone. Yalindra had met Jamie in the Lounge...something seemed to be troubling her, yet Jamie said nothing was wrong..so Yali let it rest. Devon, however, pursued the matter, and was soon engaging in a heated argument with Jamie over people giving magic a bad name or some such... She tried her best to calm Devon, to try and stop him from angering Jamie, especially in what did not look to be the best possible times...but he persisted. She simply left the Lounge, hoping to draw Devon out of the conflict, and let him cool down. She counted the time...one minute...two...three... What was happening?? Finally Devon emerged and demanded to know why she had left him, and did not stand by him (her, his wife!!) when not ten minutes before, she had defended him against a crazed Magus Moonheart while he was unconscious. He basically called her a coward and infuriated her, insulting her in ways he probably didn't realize... Jamie emerged and he started the argument again!!! Yali's temper boiled over and she found herself bodythrowing Devon to the ground, swearing mildly, before storming away on Az'yrri.... Rathe provided a mild diversion...Rosa seemed to be gallivanting around the wheel...she flew around on Az, but could find no one.... She met Rathe in New Genesis and helped him watch an exit... Then Devon came again, asking forgiveness...Yalindra was about to hug him and offer some calm advice, but in the same breath he told her that 'people must be taught that magic is not evil'...the problem was not solved. Devon at least had the sense to sense her mood and sleep in their room on Jizo... What was happening? Why did she act thus towards her husband? She knew the reply..had even said it to him...he had acted like an ass towards her Ka'suna..her spear-sister. A bond almost more sacred than their wedding vows...but he would not understand...and being Devon, would not be swayed either.... -------------------------- Message 271 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Apr 28 23:47:45 1997 EDT From: Ylise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: long silences... happiness departing? (R) Adult themes Ylise looked up at the small tent she lay in now. Her deep back wound was healing slowly. Not like the comforting mage heal she was accostomed to, nor even Nigel's own expert touch.. Caradoc's hands were skilled indeed, but it was much not the same.. His silence only drew her closer to him... how strange it was she could be so comfortable, his touch allowing her to fall away. The thoughts of her husband... (was he her husband still? That snake...), seemed bitter and distant. HIs fear of her had come, much that she did not find curious. He had seen too much. Too much of her... too open. Three thousand years of a strange existence... and he had seen it all. IT was no wonder Nigel seeked his solace in the Snake. Poisonings got redundant after a short time. But could Ylise walk away so easily? IT seems Nigel had, perhaps the cold emotionless state she once was in, was really how she should be. She had not seen her husband in over a week. The distance and silence that partially worried her, partially angered her. IT was not like she did not know where he was. She had seen him depart with the Snake... HIs fear of her so apparent. She had left, back to the familiarity of the R/T... taking the outlet of drinking.... though it had affected her little. Strange how she had found the striking man there, how easily it was to converse with him... to capture him. She indeed still had it. What did it matter any longer?? The mount sickened her, her 'Family' sickened her... this PLACE sickened her. Her agitation was apparent, much had explained her reckless behaviors... What did it matter? IT seemed to simple crumble below her... and for once, she had no control. Somehow... there would be an answer to this... She would not hinder her still married husband. She did nto care... OR at least did not show to care.. She would go back into her ways slowly... BUt not with something to be remembered by... -------------------------- Message 272 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Apr 29 18:37:11 1997 EDT From: Melira (#18088) To: *Storylines (#5236) Melira sat, staring at the wall of her tent. It passed the time as well as anything else, and besides, she needed to think. She fished arounf for a moment in the pile of blankets she slept in, and located her hair brush. She hadn't given her hair the usual 100 strokes she usually did... and so she began brushing the think silver mane to a high gloss. She thought about Traxsu... she couldn't keep up this game of love for very much longer.. it simply wasn't as interesting as it had promised to be. He was so much more fun when she was verbally torturing him, and she also didn't want people to think she'd gone suddenly soft on him. Of course, most people with brains could see that she was toying with him. She was a bit grateful that Traxsu was so oblivious of it.. for he seemed to genuinely be falling in love with her. She chuckled to herself, all the better, really.. that way he'd be crushed when the truth came out. It was getting tricky, however. He was asking so many questions.. especially about her past. She didn't want to think about any of that, or go over it with him for crying out loud. He wanted to 'get to know her'.. heh. She smiled to herself as she thought of his boyish embarassment at peeking at her while they were swimming. Yes.. this might be fun a while longer... -------------------------- Message 273 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 30 11:35:25 1997 EDT From: Uziel (#19180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hunter sized Headaches ' ARMX cursed to himself as he contemplated the progress of his current stratagem. With little more than a week's worth of log time to analyze, he had come to the conclusion that the stratagem was only 68% effective. Given his last encounter with Akane and that wife of his.... Appalene, ARMX was now wary of the fact that his identity may have been compromised. How this could have been accomplished, ARMX was not sure. Somehow, the magister had remove the chemically induced block he had placed upon his memory. Sighing, ARMX glanced towards the apparatus in the corner of the room. It had been difficult to obtain the materials but the design and the chemical composition he had obtained from the Tech Order database had permitted him to produce the valuable memory-blocking chemical. Clearly, Akane had found some outside aid capable of removing the chemical's influence. It was the only possibility he could formulate. ARMX sighed as he loaded another magazine into the launcher on his shoulder. Only time would tell whether or not his strategem would achieve its full efficiency.... -------------------------- Message 274 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 30 16:12:58 1997 EDT From: Brinn (#12457) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Changes She tossed and turned, unable to sleep once again. While she was 'growing/aging' rapidly, she required little sleep. It was strange, but Mantle explained that the Sarkus was helping her, sustaining her just as it was increasing her growth rate. The Sarkus. Sitting up in the small bed, she tossed the covers aside, rising. Breif thoughts went through her mind. The bed was for a child, too small for her now. She needed a room, cavern of her own. She wasn't a child that needed to be near her parents any longer. This thought came as she tiptoed from her cavern, through her mothers and Yna's cavern to enter the living cavern. No..this had to be changed. Turning toward the hallway, she padded silently in her thin shift and bare feet toward the Mages quarters, she whispered at the locked door and entered as the door opened quietly on its hinges. The room was empty. No evidence of Mantles return since he had handed over the reins of DragonMage to her that dark, early morn in the Sarkus not long ago. She hadn't even told anyone yet, that Mantle had gone, that he didnt know when he would return from his quest, his search. She sighed as she sat on the empty bed, then laid down, curling into a ball, her arms hugged tightly to her abdomen. She groaned softly as waves of pain, lust, anger washed over her. She understood what was happening. Mantle had confirmed it before he left. She was feeling the effects of hormonal surges. The years it normally took a girl to reach womanhood were all encompassed in these past few months, to now strike at her body and mind with a vengence. Closing her eyes she rode the wave, relaxing finally as it ebbed from her for a time. She sat up and wiped the sweat from her face with the sleeve of her nightgown, pulling the fabric from her damp skin. She looked at the room once more and nodded to herself. Yes, this would do. Mantle's room, hers now. She would miss him, but knew she had much to do to take his place. Standing, she went to bathe the sweat from her body. Returning to the Mages Quarters, she threw her damp shift into a corner and curled up on the bed to finally sleep. -------------------------- Message 275 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Apr 30 16:53:23 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Amusement Watching Remembrance and Solitude's `divorce' brought a chuckle from Rathe, to see the love that once existed (love, or simply confusion?) between Solitude and Remembrance dissolve like mist in the morning air. He had seen this in the works, of course. Solitude could not accept Remembrance's lust for furtherment in the art, could not see past the blindfold of his honor to the light of ambition which shone so clearly from Remembrance's direction. He called it evil, and turned away from her, unable to handle the change.. To some, the world is only black and white. Things are only good, or evil. Honorable, or honorless. Rathe shook his head. Amazing that Solitude had survived so long as a clan leader with such blindness, blindness to the swirling greys inbetween, to the darkness and light that was within everyone.. Even him. Still chuckling, Rathe nodded once to those he knew, turning to head southwards, where he made use of the shadow flute which would provide him passage back to his home in Drach'Nal.. He smiled as he stepped into the darkness, shadow swirling about him as the haze parted and he saw a reflection of Drach'Nal. he stepped in the appropriate direction, heading down the cobbled lane to his home. Remembrance would be much more useful, now... -------------------------- Message 276 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 1 03:56:43 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: o/~ ..just another day.. o/~ Akane sat beside the now sleeping form of Appalene, wondering why he should even bother.. He loved Appalene with all his heart.. he couldn't stop what was to occur.. the demon would feast upon her soul after she gave birth.. Rathe had seen to that nicely.. Akane smirked, knowing he would once again have to capture Ikaris.. this time.. doors would be much more solid.. Akane laughed aloud, the workers coming to him, and fuming when they saw the door blown open.. and a corpse lying on the floor.. Akane grinned at this, knowing mindspear had worked nicely, the spell working, yet backfiring.. Akane bent down to the corpse, grabbing the limp head by his white hair, and scalping it, only taking the long, white hair instead of the fleshy scalp.. he smiled, placing a few wards upon it... The seeker's flame would not work this time.. Akane placed the rest in his bag, while holding a small clump of white hair.. he twined it into a small bracelet, hardening it and warding it again.. Now, Akane had other problems to deal with.. his agenda seemed full for a bit, and not a one of his students came to him.. he sighed, knowing he had failed Frap.. he could never be the magister he was, and he shouldn't hope that.. but he was proud to know that Frap's magic would be one of the things from which to keep Ikaris away from Appalene.. his libido was that of a jackrabbit, and with Appalene's contract.. it wasn't gonna be easy. And his child.. that was easily enough solved. Some person has seeked Lykaj, and asked for his help.. and Lykaj talked with Appalene.. then sending Akane a letter.. Appalene was afraid of Akane, and was to give the child to Lykaj for the time being.. Akane grinned slightly, after talking with Lykaj about that.. Lykaj said Akane would be free to come here after the child was born and in the keep, simple enough.. Akane then again smiled as he thought of Lykaj.. one of his only true friends. He also had Rathe to content with.. he had to stop him from unleashing the demon early.. which was easy enough.. he used Ikaris and Coreen to his advantage.. he could find a way to use magery to make Ikaris and Coreen fall into harmless love, not like Rathe's lust spell.. Rathe seemed to think Akane a weak magister in a way.. he knew combat magic wasn't Akane's forte, and was prepared to use that in his offense if Akane ever tried anything to do with Coreen.. But, either Akane would have to imprison Ikaris again.. or get Timber to make a restraining spell on the seeker.. so he would not go near Appalene.. for going near her, she would have to do her service, which meant more than Akane would want to hear about. "all in good time my friend.." he murmured.. frowning down at Appalene's sleeping form.. then looking up to the painting of Robitham, "i wish you could tell me what I needed to do.." he whispered barely.. and he could swear Robitham's mouth seemed to move, "Use the song to its utmost my son.. do not let this go unnoticed.." and the voice trailed off, and Akane shook his head, looking down at the four glasses of whiskey he had drained.. he laid down on the bed beside his love.. his body huddled away from her.. not knowing what was going to happen in the next few days, weeks, or months.. but his drunken state made him passout before he could force himself awake any longer, and he snored quietly, the shadows seeming to move about the room.. -------------------------- Message 278 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 1 10:10:20 1997 EDT From: Ekrebus (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Mine, Rated PG if anything. Devon awoke, but something was very very wrong. He seemed to be in some kind of prism, two others, female with him that he thought he should recognize. He was unable to think straight. "What am I doing?" here he thought to himself and realized there was no way out. Meanwhile outside the gem in Devon's body the dark eyes of the demon glittered. This was its world now and it wasn't going to let anyone take it. He stared down at the pregnant woman next to him apprently his wife. It was interesting to see this human and so many mortal ties, dragons and other powerful mages but it would also be a problem if he didn't learn who they were. No matter, if they learn who he was he would merely destory them as he would any enemy. He smiled darkly as he practiced forbidden arts of magic, he would never have the power of this body, but at least he could use his own powers to their fullest extent. Myst shifted in her sleep, Ekrebus walked over to her and caressed her lips with a finger, "sleep my pretty I have such plans for you and our child, yes Devon will never come: back you are mine as is anything he owned, and no one can stop us, the triad will hold this world in their hand and there is no one to stop us. -------------------------- Message 279 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 1 19:48:10 1997 EDT From: Morpheus (#12681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Turn in the Road ' Morpheus sat, staring into the umbral realms as he always did. Taking comfort in its mesmerizing beauty, and the feel of his beloved's slumbering breaths upon his skin as she slept against him. As always, his mind wandered to the procession of events in his consciousness. His meeting with the seeker named Kylnaria had proved...interesting. Morpheus smiled slightly as he considered the encounter. She had a quick mind, he decided. Her mental faculties where sharp and had an instinctive grasp of reality's weavings. Somehow, the woman had stumbled upon her magical awareness without guidance. Even now, she had already progressed as far as to grasp the elementary principles of illusion without so much as a single iota of instruction. Yet, despite her apparent aptitude for the magical arts, Morpheus felt something......oddly dangerous about her. Although she grasped the principles easily, there was something strangely 'cold' about the way in which she carried herself. At least, it seemed so to him. Sighing, Morph glanced at the embers of the cave's fire that smoldered in the centre of the room. Within the Umbral realms, their glowing forms appeared much larger, and wreathed with ethereal bluish-green flames that danced upwards in spiraling rings. Perhaps his perceptions of Kylnaria were merely the reactions of a paranoid man, he decided. ' The intrusion came without warning, as something from beyond reality's pattern tore through the edges of Morph's consciousness and became tooled in flesh. A sense of alarm rose within Morpheus as he examined the infernal presence with the Sight. Gulping, Morph considered the ramifications of the entrance of an infernal being. Such creatures had always sought to seed themselves in the physical realms, and as such, had always sought to control the physical realms. By doing so, they inevitably tampered with the delicate paths of destiny, he and Raven worked hard to preserve and encourage to fruition. Yet, despite such a threat, Morpheus found himself helpless to intervene directly. The creature had controlled Devon, effectively integrating itself into Devon's thread in the pattern. If Morph intervened, he would be doing that which he had sworn never to do......interfere directly in the pattern's evolution. Sighing with dismay....Morpheus sat up, and pondered his dilemma. -------------------------- Message 280 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 05:46:44 1997 EDT From: Kzin (#5800) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Musings Kzin laid out his robes on the bed, looking them over with a critical eye, the old stains finally fallen prey to a new cantrip. He then proceeded to strip down to his boxers and began his meditation, sitting in a lotus on the cold stone floor, letting his mind empty itself. He mused over the events of the day, the thoughts jumbling through, then out of, his conciousness...new faces, new meetings, half-promises..and a seed, the kernel, of a plan. The thoughts, tangled, interwoven, flew through his mind, forming in the subconcious, his eyes closed, his concious mind empty of all but the candle flame flickering before him, letting the power flow out and touch it, tease it higher, the energies more easily acessible than before, yet needing all the more control, focus... THe candle flared, slowly, it's flame growing from a inch to two, then three, then four, consuming itself in under 20 minutes, the waxx completely burnt away from the small stand. He slowly stood up, stretching the kinks out of his back. Kzin smiled, baring sharp teeth, and murmured "The demon was kind to me, foolish thing as it was...I can call more now than ever before, untainted power, from the planes....soon.." Kzin's smile grew wider, and he slipped back up the stairs, and out of the house, to gather the preperations, and to seek the neccesary...elements... -------------------------- Message 281 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 08:43:34 1997 EDT From: Yalindra (#13170) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A change? (PG) Yalindra woke up from a deep sleep, her arms wrapped around her husband's sleeping form in their bed. She still felt tired and weak from the previous day...what a day it had been. First, she had heard that a demon had been released somewhere, at Devon's fault..she knew little of magic and figured the problem corrected easily enough... Devon had taken her down to the R/T for a drink, and then to Jizo, for a walk. The walk ended as most walks did, with them making passionate love somewhere. Yesterday was only subtly different...instead of a soft beach or a soft bed, they were in a dark cavern...odd. Devon's eyes seemed to glow in the dark, their green glow causing Yalindra to start slightly, but he assured her that it was normal...due to his training under Axelle. She shrugged. Then Devon went about soothing her sore back and rear, lifting her off the ground with flows of magic, his deft hands soothing the aches and pains. Then...then his libido manifested itself...his hands ran along her body, slowly awakening her dormant arousal. He took a different approach to love, this time...Yalindra felt it, knew it... Wanting to restrain her hands while they played a little game, so she wouldn't 'cheat'...why would she cheat? She was honorable, and Devon knew this... Oh well... Yalindra was in for a shocker...she found herself experiences modes of pleasure she had never felt before...by some skills Devon seemed to have picked up from...where? He said his studies had been with a girl lately..could he..? No...no, he would not consciously betray her. Must have been spur of the moment, like he said... that was it. Well, whatever it was, it had Yalindra wanting her husband more than ever, even though their new methods of play seemed to take a lot out of her. She smiled and shifted to be closer to her husband, waiting for him to wake. -------------------------- Message 282 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 08:45:28 1997 EDT From: SilverMoon (#12014) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Lights and Shadows. SilverMoon sighs in exhaustion, the candle's flame flickering against her hands as she cups them over the flame. She concentrates harder on the shadows, trying to learn their secret the way her father showed her. She fails again and lowers her hands. So much work in being a mage... was it worth it to follow her father's footsteps? Moonheart's thoughts brush her mind and she knows her father is thinking of her. She giggles to herself, wondering if he knows she's discovered his secret. He is magus, but that doesn't make him infallible after all. She cups her hands around the flame again and chants softly to the dancing shadows on her fingers. Her eyes grow wide as they respond. She feels her father smile, she has done well. -------------------------- Message 283 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 08:54:55 1997 EDT From: Ekrebus (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Beginning Plans, Rated PG The demon had already fooled the mages wife, she seemed so enrapurtured that nothing he did she doubted. She was rather easily dupped, he could come up with an explanation for everything, but what was important now was her dreams. The demon seeped into her subconcious plaguing every moment he could. That night she dreamed of morlith and a few other things, each time he corrupted it, placing his demonic visage onto her foes, morlith led by a powerful warlord, Myst at his side. Myst being tortured by this monster instead of Red. Myst watching her family and friends destroyed by this monster. The dreams took careful turns towards powers and wants. He started giving her power beyond her thoughts, she could rule, she was strong enough to do it, not the other weaklings og morlith. She knew with her ancestry and that she was the greatest warrior of this time, she could make those foolish males like Red bow before her, nothing could stop her. He then gave her a sight of what she wanted, a third person view of her making love to him, not Devon, but this monster, and just abruptly as he started, he finished. His Plan would work perfectly, he'd use the girl then throw her away her spirit was strong, he sacrafice along with the child would give him unimaginable power, and then none could stop him. -------------------------- Message 284 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 10:08:12 1997 EDT From: Meoni (#9687) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Following... Following... restlessly, endlessly, following her body back to Uruken, riding atop Mueva, who was unsuspecting of anything wrong. Meoni found that the seperation of mind and body was now complete and someone... or something... else was puppeting her mortal coil. She remembered, if only vaguely, being in the lounge and that flash of brilliant light. Then her mind and body seperated again, and she was encased in a strange faceted gem with two others. They seemed lost, but not her. She often traveled outside her body, to escape the pain, the horrors her masters inflicted upon her. But this was suddenly different, this was not her doing, not her choice! She left her faceted prison, following the body that was supposed to be her, but found that someone else occupied her mind now and she was unable to enter. So she followed... watching and waiting for a moment to reenter what was hers. She caught a look at her own face and gasped. Her eyes were glowing a brilliant red. What manner of demon possessed her now. Meoni suddenly thought of Stryfe and she shuddered in her ethereal form. The demon entered the pavillion, pausing to gaze at Dahlia and Stryfe, asleep and unwitting. Meoni screamed at the entity who'd stolen her identity and it actually turned to stare at her. It laughed her laugh and turned to gaze at Stryfe longingly. "You leave him alone!" Meoni shouted, sounding only like a breath of air. It turned and smiled at her with a mocking curl of her lips and curled up beside Stryfe, laughing as Meoni howled in misery. -------------------------- Message 285 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 10:36:04 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: watching on the sidelines The day was like no other, Jaelene grew closer to Toraxyn the more time they spent together. Laughing, teasing, loving each other made each day stick in her mind. Toraxyn gave her more happiness than she ever though would be possible. Even when she lost a bet to him and had to be his slave for a day, he treated her like a princess. And today was the best of days.. yet worse than any she'd ever have to experience. While out hunting in the graveyards of N'orleans Toraxyn asked Jaelene if she would like to get a home with him. Taken aback by the offer Jaelene had no idea what to say. She knew Toraxyn wasn't really the type of guy to settle down and if he was asking her this, dare she think he love her more than she imagined. Toraxyn took her silence as hesitance and that she didn't love him though. Jaelene rushed to assure him, "Toraxyn never have I loved another as I've loved you. I just was surprised you would want to be in something so permanent." Toraxyn realizing what she meant and thinking back to an earlier conversation on commitment relaxed the harshness of his stance. "Jae, I really want this home with you." he told her. It was later that night when Toraxyn realized exactly how much this home would mean to Jaelene. Toraxyn held Jaelene in his arms and quietly asked her, "So what would you like in our new home." Jaelene knew right away what her answer would be and replied, "you." Toraxyn smiled down at her and said, "I meant decorations." Tears formed in Jaelene's eyes as she thought of all that she'd never had and simply asked, "Can I have a real bed?" Snuggled together about to go to sleep Toraxyn's small floating orb began to pulse and Jaelene waited as he answered it. Impatient to sleep Jaelene asked him what was going on and receiving no answer got up and put her boots back on. Toraxyn looked up his face drawn and pale, "Jae wait dammit!". Jaelene turned around to look at Tor, "wait that's what I've been doing and you can't even give me an answer. Obviously who ever she is, she's more important than I am." Toraxyn looked at her, "Jaelene, I love you. but.. A.. Alluvia is pregnant." Jaelene looked at him fear in her eyes, "Is it yours?" Toraxyn nodded, "She's been with no other and we were together for a long time Jae." With that Jaelene left the tent. Outside she looked up to the sky and cried, "Why him dear god. I love him so much." Jaelene put the heels of her palms to her eyes willing herself not to cry. Softly she whispered, "Bring me death for surely taking him from me I've got no soul." Swallowing back her tears she went back to the tent to find out what Toraxyn was going to do. Finding the tent empty she realized she had her answer. Now she only had to wait to hear it from the man himself. Methodically she got undressed and laid down on the hard bedroll alone and fell to sleep.. -------------------------- Message 286 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 16:24:19 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin held the three small girls in her arms.. Yggy's daughters. They'd been sprightly for a while, but had drifted back to sleep.. as babies are so ood at doing. She couldn't help but love them, even if they weren't hers. She was their 'aunt' after all. She chuckled to herself, recalling faint memories of her father's sister -- she used to bake all sorts of breads for Etra back in Ireland. Back home.. Etra lay the children gently on the bed, looking over them. She frowned slighrtly to herself. Home. Morlith was the first true home she'd had since they crossed the ocean oh so long ago.. how old had she been? Eleven, that's right. Eleven years old, and a tomboy.. and scared to leave her Eire for some new world. And rihtly scared, for it was there she'd lost her family after seven years. And Rathe on Morlith, with Coreen no less. And Khyber just a few caverns away. The more she thought on it, the more it troubled her. She'd been nervous this week, and wouldn't even discuss it with Yshar. Seeing Rathe here had troubled her - a sudden vision had flashed in her head of the two of them together. Nonsense, she told herself, shoving it back. Those days are gone, and so is the elf. Sure, they were friends, as far as it went; that was all, though. She glanced over t Yshar, sleeping. The babies, sleeping. She wanted a family... why was she so anxious? What was she afraid of? She touched Naomi's soft golden hair, sighing to herself. She knew what she was afraid of... if only she'd admit it to herself... -------------------------- Message 287 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 16:27:02 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: My last post :P Sorry if it was a little confusing.. finals are getting to me. Bah. The implication is, Etra's nervous about people who've hurt her being in her Home - Morlith in general - and then the fear at the end is a separate one.. one not revealed (Mwah Ha! Secrets!) So any way.. Back to my near nervous breakdown ;) Ahh.. academic life.. -Jess / Ylaerin -------------------------- Message 288 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 2 23:40:36 1997 EDT From: Solitude (#16045) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Damage Report Solitude watched as Nikita laborously worked with some other Tribesman to repaier Aries. The mech hand been blasted into peices, by the foul mage Moonheart. Fortunatly the damage seemed to have been concentrated at the joints. The Aries would be out of commision a long while, that was certain. But, it looked to be salvageable. Some reworked wiring, fixed computer system, a lot of new servos and armor patches... Yes, the Aries would rise again. -------------------------- Message 289 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 3 09:07:49 1997 EDT From: Ilithya (#20233) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A child's curiousity. Ilithya quietly played with her plush dragon as it zoomed overhead the toy figurines she was imagining were great mechanical SoulMechs come to destroy the Dragonriders. But never fear! Her black dragon Azrei'lasher was coming to the rescue, swooping out of the sky to destroy the enemy! "WHAT?" her mother's voice echoed through Cygnus' thick curtain, disturbing Ilithya's playtime. She turned her head, braids smacking her back lightly, and strained to hear the distant conversation. Ilithya stood up when she couldn't make out the muffled voices and stood near the curtain, then she crouched down and peeked out the side. Her mother was near Cygnus' entrance, talking to her dragonfriend, Tierz'yrrlan. His rumbling voice always reminded Lith of distant, soothing thunder, like a storm that had passed. Tierz'yrrlan seemed nonchalant, mentioning Ilithya's father. She wondered momentarily why they were talking about Samael, he had left ages ago. Then she caught the name Yroshi. In her seven year old mind, it clicked. She was Ilithya Yroshisdodder... so Samael never had been her father. She looked over her shoulder at the playpen. That made Thaire her half brother instead. She stood up and stomped over to her toys again and started a new game. Now her wonderful Azrei'lasher was flying to find a lost child's real father. -------------------------- Message 290 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 3 16:21:09 1997 EDT From: Remembrance (#13681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: BackLash! Started as a simple day, simple plans to meet with Eldran and work together on the Wheel. Maybe if Rathe hadn't kept showing up things would have been alright. She knew that Rathe and Eldran didn't get along, but she wanted to watch Eldran, see what the Mistress Axelle had been teaching him..see how it differed from Rathe's teachings if any. So she ignored Rathes proddings to harm the Druid. They found a secluded area and began to work on the ugly birds out on the wheel. She was still miffed at Rathe, then watched Eldran, feeling he wasnt ready for what he was trying..it was taking too much from him. She showed him on another of the birds..was so easy, done so quickly as she pulled the tendrils away from the lifeless husk. Filled with the exhileration of her casting, the adrenalin flowing. Eldran argued with her. She was clearly stronger than he, capable of more. She turned to the cainid sleeping in the shade of the pines and quickly sent out the tendrils of darkness to ensnare the beast first. Easily doen she thought, power surging thru her. She sent out the darkness, surrounded the creature and began to draw on it. Suddenly tendrils broke free from around the cainid, it was strong, stronger than she has expected and her cockiness crumbled. She now struggled to control it and her own energies. Something was wrong! Her last thought as she was sent flying back several yards to the ground, knocked unconscious from the powerful backlash. She came to in Eldran's arms, his sweet voice singing over her as she felt the healing energies. She began to draw her own energies around herself, to aid him, to test her gift..her mind. She screamed out, her eyes rolling into her head as her body convulsed, sending her into unconsciousness once more. This time she drifted in darkness, drifting in and out of consciousness. Gazing unseeing at the ceiling of this strange room, not familar, not..not what? She heard melodic singing as she drifted back to the darkness. -------------------------- Message 291 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 3 17:44:11 1997 EDT From: Shimmer (#18718) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Awakening. Shimmer's eyelids fluttered open after what seemed forever.. the sleeping drug he took worked well.. too well in fact. His central nervous system absorbed it, as planned, but did not dissipate it as planned.. it mutated the sleeping chemicals, altering a simple few things, and keeping him in the deep, coma like state. Shimmer lightly hopped from his bunk, his head spinning as the fought to control himself from falling down.. his body weak and frail for once in his life.. he looked down in reoccuring sadness as the golden locket glimmered against his clothing.. fresh tears making him tremble.. *You must stop this Shimmer!* a voice screamed in his mind, causing Shimmer to shake his head, and think for a moment.. o O (I should've done something.. I should've never left europe.. ), but the voice continued *You could have done nothing Shim, you did what you thought right, and this was all a part of gods way, not yours* and Shimmer nodded absently to himself.. he grinned slightly as thoughts came to him.. The small emerald curiously looking at him and speaking in some rich, sibilant tones.. which the riders told Shimmer was "Dragon's tongue.".. Shimmer was fascinated from the beginning when the young dragon hatched.. he smiled slightly, rolling some rocks in his hand, quartz, topaz, and an emerald.. he now knew he could continue his life anew, for the past was done, and he couldn't stop it. Shimmer walked out of the dormitory, fresh air wafting into him, and he went to do his daily rock collecting for the day. -------------------------- Message 292 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 3 18:25:09 1997 EDT From: Alluvia (#12737) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Confusion and decisions... She could not face Toraxyn's face any longer. She knew how he looked at her when he was looking deep.. solidly... His eyes penetrated and his soul was pure... for once. She had to leave quickly before her judgement would be challenged by that gaze. |Alluvia, you must not love him any more... there is nothing you can do.. Perhaps his idea was truly best| The words flushed in and out of her mind, and her fingertips subconciously went to her now growing stomach. The sickness had grown harsher and she knew then what she could not deny. She was pregnant. And it was with Toraxyn's child. How she once would have delighted in this, how she would have been in laughter in delight. All she knew now however, was an overwhelming creeping fear, a lonliness and a scared fright she could not shake free. She was alone. Her son was off in Morpheus's teachings -- learning to grow strong in the ways of the mage. Her husband? Long since departed, his voice fading in her mind from where it once was. Her student Eldran had long since been gone from the tree and she knew not where he was.. |HAs something happened to him as well??| She turned and looked out the great expanse of green that Eldorath had shown to her. Tears streamed from her eyes. She knew she would bring a life into the world. A beautiful child and it like Etan would be raised again alone. Or, she could give in to those eyes and that pureness that Toraxyn had shown her. GIve the child to him and his love. The woman seemed so kind and she knew it would be best for the child. She knew that he and his love would raise it right -- raise it in love. But what of her? What of Alluvia? |This is not right.. I should not hold such selfish thoughts, such strange thoughts. He wants the child I hold within and I know what is right....If only... | Her thoughts trailed off for a moment. "If only there would one day be one to fill this lonely dark..." Alluvia rose, her staff glowing slightly. Slowly, she made her way down the great tree. IT was not a decision for her any longer. It was not her choice to be made. Selfishness was not in her heart, it never could be. -------------------------- Message 293 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun May 4 20:05:51 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Ylaerin awoke, shivering.. music washing through her head in waves. She slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, woke Luthe, and grabbed her harp - forgetting about her shoes for once. She hurried out to a secluded part of the garden, and sat down with her harp, her dream still burning inside her head. She had found herself on the dreamscape as usual.. and wide stretching heath, speckled with low lying wild flowers and heather. Syyrl greeted her with more reverance than usual, his violet cloak swirled in the mists and he slipped his arm around her shoulders. 'Mo choill, I've been sent for you..' he said. Unusual, that was - usually he was simply, well, a product of her own thoughts. 'I've a message for you.' Etra looked up at him, and he stopped and put his hand on her arm, 'You've got some work to do.' She raised an eyebrow at him, he seemed to be avoiding the point, which he never did. 'You've not been at the harp enough, Lyetra... the higher circles are looking over you.' 'Higher circles? Syyrl.. you don't mean...' she paused, there was no bardic tradition on the Wheel; she kept up her arts out of love, nothing more. He looked at her, and smiled, 'You must have wondered, Etra. Your harping has improved - and you've not had a teacher in 6 years.' She nodded. 'And, haven't you ever been curious about your easy connection with the dreamworld?' She shrugged slightly, 'The voices are always unusually clear.. and they have the mark of truth in them, but --' 'No, no buts. That's what I'm trying to tell you,' he grinned that boyish grin of his, 'You are living among legends. How else do we get histories and ballads? You know all about Destiny -- you're just getting lazy,' Syyrl glanced around him, 'They're watching over you, Lyetra Shar. Open your eyes, and play your tunes.. I'll come again for you later.' He kissed her forehead then, and she watched her dead love go. She felt herself drifting upward, out of sleep.. and heard Yshar's breathing beside her. There was music to be done. She had to become more watchful.. She bent over her harp in the clear summer sun - her living legend Luthe frolicking close by.. and what this meant for her, she couldn't say... -------------------------- Message 294 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun May 4 23:09:33 1997 EDT From: Elendil (#2237) To: Elendil (#2237) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Part II To the great wyrms the sky Golden light for a burnt land Radiant eyes, great burdens fly To the mariner the sea Salty bounds beyond scorching sand To chill depths from hatred flee Bright cities secreted by miser's hand To the living Art the earth Warm grassland cry, cold forest rime Mageling err, dark magic birthed To ruin all down the road of time -- Seeker's Warning We skirt towards the tavern, three dark warriors on a dark errand. The underbrush barely hisses as we slide through, whispering towards the entrance. The echo-ranger in my hand hums softly, the tempo slowly building. They're inside, and we're just in time. I flip down the infra-red eye-shield and the building glows with heat, the red-white forms inside clustered about the main room. I motion towards the front door and the shadow to my left detaches from the undergrowth, taking up position beside the door. The other slips around the back, heading for the service entrance. I halt for a moment, senses probing the alleys beside the building, and then step forward to the front door. I'm the entry man, as is my right, for this hunt is mine. I unholster the Minimi light machine gun, draping the auto-disintegrating ammo belt over my left arm, and quietly press open the front door. The main floor of the tavern is smoky and noise-filled, the long rows of tables crowded with boisterous patrons. The bar-keep notices me instantly and his hands drop below the level of the bar. Heads begin to turn and eyes widen, the sight of my black-armored frame blocking the doorway sending a perceptible wave across the tables as people brace in their chairs, hands grasping concealed weapons. I step forward and to the left and Sparhawk slips in behind me, his pair of .44 magnums tracking separate spots around the room. The range finder at my belt bleeps suddenly, frantically, as the target begins to move, and chaos breaks loose. It seems that more than a few of the local patrons have guilty consciences, and weapons start to fire from around the room as they target their presumed assassins, namely us. A dagger clangs harmlessly off my shoulder guard at the same time that a small caliber round thumps into my armored abdomen. The impact jars me but the mesh weave holds, and reflexively I clamp down on the trigger, the muzzle burst from my machine gun reaching out four feet as I chew up a pair of tables and their inhabitants. Bystanders, perhaps, but no one's ever really innocent. A snarling berserker, some crys hunter who'd spent one too many days in the sun, comes over the nearest booth at me, a vicious longsword humming in a gleaming arc. I duck the blow and hammer the side of his head with the steel stock of my gun, sending him sprawling against the wall. I turn the duck into a roll instinctively, and a blast of shot tears through the space I'd been filling. I hear a 2-hit hammer blow as Spar brings his revolvers into play and look up in time to see the barkeep collapse onto his shotgun. A few more rounds come our way, but the patrons begin to mix it up amongst themselves, old grudges flaring. A mage turns a swordsman and part of the bar into a firey inferno before he gets himself gutted by a pouncing wolverine recomb. A pair of swearing Dragon riders hack their way nearly all the way to the relative safety of the storeroom before going down under a rush of sickle-wielding gypsies. I dodge a thrown chair, and then I pick them out of the crowd. She's unmistakable. Her perfect features, filled with icy calm, seem to float in the depths of her dark hood. Tall, her body is shrouded in a shapeless black cloak and she stands alone near the cold hearth. The swirling combat does not touch her, she now radiates a sense of danger like mist coming off dying ice. Her dark eyes watch with a certain amusement, as if such antics could affect her now. Closer to the combat moves her ally, a tall robed male, and my hate begins to burn. I wait until they separate in the long hall, the swelling combat drawing the man like the blood scent of a dying dragon. He comes around a long row of heavy booths and out of her vision. Like the cold hand of Fate I come for him. As I approach, a heavy skirmisher charges him, black gnarled club held up on high. The man throws up a hand at the warrior's approach and a blue-white arc of lightning leaps from palm to chest. The warrior staggers backward, muscles jerking uncontrollable and the mage twists his hand in a chopping motion downwards. Hissing blades of ice spin through space and the warrior screams as his blood mists the air from a dozen wounds. He collapses without any further sound. The mage eyes his work for a moment with a look of smug satisfaction, and only when he turns back towards the main fighting does he see me. I'm already nigh upon his flank and moving quickly. Our eyes meet, his wide with the suddenness of my appearance, mine narrowed behind my war visor and very, very cold. 'Elendil!' he blurts in recognition, involuntarily taking a step backwards, trying to get more space between us. He seems to expect me to say something, some form of challenge or accusation, and my silence scares him like no words ever would. I click the machinegun back to semi-automatic and the noise drives him into action. With a sudden movement he clenches his fists against each other and shouts a single word of command, 'Detoht-Elekdel!' A mote of red-white energy builds for a moment at the ends of his fists and my flare-suppressing visor darkens protectively. I do not attempt to disrupt the spell or evade it, for I wish him to go to the Beyond broken with the knowledge that his death was unstoppable and entirely his own creation. The energy expands into a rippling beam of searing fire that washes over me in an instant, turning my world red. Screams fill the air as people behind me are struck as well, weapons and clothing, skin and hair melted in an instant. Mercifully they quickly char and die. The small stone set lovingly into the sharkskin weave of my weapon harness twinkles softly, the perfect facets glimmering with light. The loving radiance of the Queen I serve blankets me and the spell washes over me like a cool breeze. For a moment or two the energies contend, and then they are gone. My stone glitters once more and darkens. Only I remain. Only now does he understand. With a shriek he claws at his belt for his long dagger, stumbling backwards. I sling the machine gun with one hand and slip out my short sword with the other. He leaps at me, hoping to catch me off guard. I step easily aside and smash my mailed fist into the side of his head. He seems to quiver on his feet and I feel his jaw shatter against my knuckle spikes. I bring down the coral shortsword and the razored edge bites into his forearm, cracking the bone and severing a dominant muscle. He claws at the arm, switching the dagger to his other hand in a vain attempt to stave off his own death. Shorn of the violent magic he had always used to dominate others, his world of dark experiments and dusty tomes cannot compare to mine of open seas, life-struggles in cool forests, and hard-won knowledge of my own understanding. He hacks at me like a tentative child, blinded by his own pain. Deftly I let the stroke slide by and gash the back of his shoulder as his arm swings by, severing the tendons and rotator. The arm goes limp and useless, the dagger spinning away. He stumbles, eyes glazed with the terror and pain, and waits for death. My mind, so tied to the present, flashes suddenly with an ancient memory. The vision of my first blademaster, a grizzled old submariner, blind in one eye yet so keen with his beloved katana that he was still able to slay great whites in the blackness of a 200 fathom trench. 'Elendil,' he said one night after his other pupils, those that would not live their lives by the sword, had left, 'It is given to some warriors a few times in their lives, if they are lucky, the strength and skill to strike so perfectly that the gods themselves take notice.' I feel the strength in my arm, the firmness of the strong wood beneath my feet. I feel the reassuring weight of my armor, the slight pressure from the dented greave on my right thigh. Each crackling flame of the torches on the far wall is distinct for a moment despite their changing patterns. The vile bite of the weak, smoke-filled air of the tavern tastes like nectar to my throat. I see every detail of my foe, the vibrant red on his arms, the trickle of life from his misshappen jaw. The sounds of the battle seem crisp and without effort I hear the clash of each blade, the grunts of successful strikes, and moans of death. I feel it now, like the impending change in a swift tide, the almost imperceptible hint of a roaring riptide. The hara-gei, the soul-energy, swells within me and I spin, my blade swinging upwards in a smooth blue arc. I honor my master with the stroke and so perfect is the cut that I feel no resistance as it slips through his neck, coming out the other side as clean and blue-white as the day of its forging. He stands for a long moment, leaning as if braced against a great wind. Then the head topples, blood fountaining in a perfect arc for a moment before the body follows. --Continued-- OOC Oh, yes, btw this is spammy. Heh. I'd put the warning earlier, but I just don't care that much. --Mars -------------------------- Message 295 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 5 03:08:42 1997 EDT From: Jasper (#17572) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: When things can't get any worse, they do... A knock on the workroom door roused her from sleep. Nothing unusual... probably just someone else asking for advice on a repair. She idly noted that her bed was empty again, and stopped herself from remembering that there had still been no word. She cracked open the door, her head pounding more than usual, squinting her eyes at the light that penetrated the room and reminding herself to oil the door hinges as they squealed loudly. "Hello, little pup... " the wiry silhouette in the doorframe uttered, before grabbing Jasper by the shoulders and shaking her slightly, forcing her head up to meet the shadow's eyes. Jasper's eyes went wide, her legs going weak beneath her, but the firm hands held her from crumpling to the ground. "D...Daira?" she sputtered, thinking this had to be a dream... The silhouette came into focus as it stepped within the frame of the door and kicked it closed behind. Jasper stared blankly up, her lips moving silently. The soft light of the room behind the figure made the only vaguely feminine standing shape of Daira look black, wreathed in flame-like hair. She looked like the devil, and to Jasper, she might as well have been. Firm hands shoved Jasper back sprawling onto the bed. "Little pup... I just came here to tell you one thing," Daira's cold voice uttered without emotion, "I'm making a comeback.. and if you value your place in the scheme of things.. and that of your clan, you'll see that your Revenant stays well clear of me... are we understood?" Jasper quietly shook her head, the word, 'no' only the barest whisper coming from her lips. Daira shook her head sadly, saying, "Sorry baby, I thought you were smarter than that.. " With that, the world spun to black for Jasper, with only the vague feeling of blood trickling on soft cotton entering her dazed conciousness... The door clicked quietly closed. -------------------------- Message 296 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 5 03:34:49 1997 EDT From: Mirage (#20202) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: .. The Bear stormed through the wastelands, reaching its top speed for its frame.. joints and actuators whining as excess stain is placed on them.. scanners sweep the area, detecting two very far away mechanical objects.. *Renegades* the thought appeared in his mind, but he kept on course, slowing his mech down substancially, and arming whatever weapons he could.. The long range scanners detecting them again.. "damn.." he said aloud, "They're moving fast.. maybe scouts for another tribe.." he hesistated on going any further.. after all, the Bear wasn't the fastest mech.. already the heat sinks were malfunctioning when he hit top speed.. he sighed to himself, turning the immense mech around.. the two little blips on his scanners still showing.. tho closer than before, but far enough away for Mirage to take the Bear upto full speed, the sand billowing behind it as he sped home.. the heat sinks would need repair.. he'd get Jasper to do it for him.. after all, she was his big sis. -------------------------- Message 297 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 5 14:39:55 1997 EDT From: Menroth (#14123) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Demise Menroth sat atop one of the massive arms of Zeus, contemplating the days events, how Sand Tiger had lost honor..how solitude was the main cause of it all, he then thought to that girl 'Nikita' she was more trouble than anyone could imagine, spunky and just a plain bitch. Menroth leapt into Zeus, spreeing out over the wastes, smashing slisssh and other such objects that got in his way with the huge ball and chain arm, he then found that night had begun, he switched on the lights in the front, only to find a gleaming red Mech' infront of him, it had no symbol on it, He acted quite quickly, spraying the mech with a few bullets, he turned to find a huge metallic fist ramming straight towards him and his mech, he did not act quick enough, the fist plowed Zeus directly in the right arm, causing the arm to malfunction, but to his luck, when the fist hit, it released the huge ball and chain, the ball and chain swung down upon the rogue, smashing the left leg, he withdrew from the fight, chuckling, Zeus's loud speaker boomed, "I'm not going to slag you..I am going to let you live and be humiliated.." he then turned zeus around and sped home for base. When Menroth returned to base, he went into his small office, now thinking of how to take leadership..he closed his eyes and went to sleep. -------------------------- Message 298 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 5 15:12:54 1997 EDT From: Chimaerae (#3777) To: *SoulMechs (#9541) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Musings... Sitting in the reddened shadows of the campsite, she reflected on the ways the clans had changed since her time with the Circle. In some ways, they were far more 'her' kind of people now than they had been then. 'Any rogue is a fair target' the little kittens' leader had said. How eager they were for blood these days... >From her general evaluation, only the NightRunner's leader, Erik, had any knowledge of what war truly was... these others danced around it like a game, like pups seeking a chance to prove themselves in a hunt, and any target would be legitimate. "Like soliders on their first leave.. " she mused to herself, "...looking to prove themselves in a foreign bed.. " Leaning back on her chair, she rested her feet on the rim of the table, looking over the map of the wastes. Rocking quickly backward, then forward once more, she kicked it over, watching the small tokens settled around the map scatter into the sandy packed floor of the tent in a miniature whirlwind of sand. Rising to her feet, she plucked a single figure from the earth, and set it on one of the supporting beams of the tent. "At least one of us will get out alive. Of course... that's all that really matters, as it is." Yanking back the flap to the tent, she sharply called to the scribe that they had 'employed' on one of their more recent raids. He scurried in, looking afraid, a scroll clutched to his chest and his bottle of ink spilling over his robes as his hands trembled. He surveyed the room, seeing the fallen table, scattered figures, and Chimaerae, who had settled back into a crouch on the chair, her scimitar laid carefully over her knees. She raised her head, her eyes raking over the portly scribe's form, and her lips twitched momentarily into a smile. "You look like a man who is accustomed to good things. That tells me that you might very well be a smart man. Are you a smart man?" she asked. The scribe nodded nervously. "Then you will take a letter for me, now. You will write what it is that I say, are we understood?" Nodding once more, the scribe gathered his papers, and dipped the quill. His fearful eyes seemed to settle into a sense of dark calm, and he watched the woman where she sat, awaiting a sign to begin. "You all consider yourselves to be so very honorable, so very 'right' because you hold to your precious law." She looked at the scribe. He continued to stare at her, motionless. She set her jaw, her eyes narrowing. Pulling a staff from behind her chair, she swept his knees in a fluid motion, sending him sprawling. "Write that down you worthless ball of flesh... " she growled. The scribe hastily began to write. "You all consider yourselves to be so very honorable, so very 'right' because you hold to your precious law. You hide behind that law as an excuse for murder, treachery, and any other action you wish to do, for the 'law' tends to rewrite itself to suit the needs of the time. If you think I lie on this, I call you fools... " she stood, twirling the staff around between her hands and she began to pace the room, her eyes focused somewhere ahead of her, her voice set to levels with which one would address a crowd. "I have been a part of your precious 'Circle', children, long before most of you had ever seen the Holy Cone rise above the wastes like an accusing finger pointing to heaven... I know you are cowards, striking at anything you do not know before trying to learn anything of the truth. How many innocent lives have you taken, how many 'renegades' brought down before they were ever given a chance to learn of the clans, to decide for themselves? Holier than thou thou art not, children, thou most certainly art not." "Chimaerae, leader of the Stormchaser Clan, seeking representation in the Revenant Circle." She wheeled rapidly, turning on the scribe. He finished his scribbling, and looked up at her. "I am finished, my lady," he panted breathlessly. She nodded once. "Let me see that letter," she muttered. The scribe looked at her warily, then nodded, handing the letter to Chimaerae, his eyes wide and locked on hers. Snatching the letter from his hand, she glanced it up and down, then nodded briefly, and dropped it on the table. Looking back up at the scribe, she smiled. He released a breath it seemed he had been holding for the duration of their meeting. Standing, she walked slowly towards the scribe, looking down her nose to meet his gaze. "I should reward you for your work," she muttered softly, her eyes going rapidly cold. "No, no reward my lady, is... is a pleasure... pleasure to serve your.. high..ness?" she stammered. She nodded quickly. "I thought you might say something like that," she uttered, then quickly drew the idle staff from her hand and brought it sharply up between his legs. Grabbing him by the throat before he could fall, his image reflected back to him from the glass lenses of her eyes, and he began to go pale in fear, and in pain. Very slowly she shook her head. "Silly, silly little man who thought he was smarter than me.. " she chuckled out, her tone utterly devoid of any levity. She traced the lid of his eye with a single claw, and followed with the other. The man was soon blinded by his own blood, sputtering mutely as she tensed and released pressure along his throat. Letting him fall to the floor, she heard him choke, and whimper, trying to scramble towards the exit or wipe the blood from his eyes. She shook her head slowly, taking the note into her hands. She read aloud, "If you consider yourselves to be honorable, and bound by any law, you will come and put an end to that madness that is this petty waste raider... " she frowned, setting a hand to her collarbone, "Petty? Petty. Hmm." She continued, "These raiders are madmen, treacherous dogs.. hmm.. mad, perhaps. Dogs? Isn't 'dogs' a bit low on the food chain?" she asked the choking form on the floor, raising a silvery brow as he coughed forth a gout of blood. "'..and they plan to do you harm, though through what means I do not know.'" She frowned once more, "By the Cone, which my people saw as sacred, see to it that you wipe this menace," she paused, "Menace. I like menace. '...from the grace of the Eagle. Your Servant'.. do you honestly think I, they, or anyone cares who you are, little man?" she snarled, glancing back towards the scribe. He lay unmoving on the floor. "Now what fun is that," she sighed, shaking her head. Rising once more, she crumpled the paper in one hand, and stuffed it into the mouth of the scribe. Hefting his body by the belt, she threw him over a shoulder, and headed towards the bonfire in the center of the camp. A hand stayed her shoulder as she prepared to throw the scribe into the fire, and her Medic's voice rang out to her, "Is he dead?" she asked. Chimaerae shrugged. The Medic nodded, "Ok, just checking, Bosslady." Turning, her eyes narrowed, she did not remain by the fire long enough to bother finding out. -------------------------- Message 299 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 5 23:12:34 1997 EDT From: Chimaerae (#3777) To: *Chat (#5391), *Storylines (#5236), and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Drafting for a TP We are currently looking for players to join a tp based on a group of wasteland raiders. If you have a character that fits this description, or want to be involved, please mail (pages might be lost in spam) either Xanthe or Chimaerae. We MIGHT be accepting players who are renegade soulmechs ALREADY, but please do not join this group expecting to become a mech thereafter if you are not one already. We are primarily in need of characters that would be affiliated with wasteland raiders, who will NOT be mechs. Good RPers only. This is primarily going to be emote based for conflicts. Do not expect weapons, gear, or any special status, this is just for those interested in joining the current concept. Details can be provided later. Chimaerae -------------------------- Message 300 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 5 23:49:53 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: **LONG** possibly PG-13 Jae woke up early and left the tent she shared with Tor to go hunting to get enough money to buy a house before the baby was due. Alluvia had agreed to let Jae and Tor adopt her unborn child. When Jae got back she found Tor awake and ready to get up and get a drink. At the lounge Tor seemed to shut himself off. Jae tried to tease and cajole him but nothing worked. Discouraged she told Tor she had things to do and left to go home. Tor followed her and it was then that Jae realized why Tor was being cold. Tor told Jae he loved her but he couldn't be with her. He couldn't promise her the things he did. He gets close and loves and then his emotions shut down. Things were just better this way.. this void growing between them would just continue no matter what. Jae yelled at him that if their love meant anything he'd fight it but he said there was no fighting it. Jae realized she'd been lied to again.. never would anyone really truly love her. Tor had hurt her the worst of all because he disguised it so well. She gave him her heart and he crushed it. Jae laughed thinking that atleast when Harrison hurt her he was honest about it. Jae left Tor's tent broken hearted and alone. Tor cast her aside because he was too weak to fight for her. Jae wandered around for a while but found herself back at the R/t face to face with Tor. Her heart dropped when she saw him and she was determined not to let him see how much she was hurting so she decided she would flirt with Ikaris. Use him to make Tor realize what he threw away so callously. Then Harrison walked in and Jae felt her stomach fall. Harrison the guy that found her and so gently helped her find her way to the R/T, Harrison the guy that turned on her and raped and beat her, Harrison the guy that said he loved her and never meant to hurt her, yet Harrison was the guy Toraxyn was bent on killing. Their weapons drawn, Toraxyn knocked Harrison out. Something snapped inside of Jae and she picked Harrison up and went to the medbay to heal him. Tor walked in and blocked the exit. He looked at Jae and asked her, 'Why do you help a man that hurt you so?'. Jae just shook her head and answered, 'He was honest in his hurt Tor. You offered me the world, waved it under my nose, and then yanked it away without looking back.' Harrison heard Jae's words and almost couldn't believe his good fortune. Jae was free, Toraxyn had left her. Left her heartbroken but left her. Jae, his beautiful Jae, the angel he found in the wastelands. Harrison leaned over to Jae and whispered to her, 'I still love you Beautiful.' Jae just turned around and told harrison to shut up. Then turned back to Toraxyn, 'you let me go Tor. You just let me walk out, so now move away from the exit and let me walk out again.' Tor feeling his hear ache with missing her simply said to her, 'Jaelene I still love you, I will always love you. That won't ever change. If you want my love, I'll still offer it, but I won't make promises I can't keep.' Jae's face hardened, 'Too late for that, your promises were already made and broken.' Tor called up his thermoblast and fired it at Harrison, 'Jae get him out of here so we can talk.' Tor moved away from the exit and Harrison walked out but not before whispering to Jae, 'Take my hand again Jae. My head was messed up from what Karcass did to me, I've changed. I won't hurt you again.' And with that Harrison was gone. Jae looked at Tor. Tor loved and left hearts broken in his wake. Tor made her promises knowing he wouldn't keep them. Jae felt like she was 8 years old again and facing her mother, only this time the love was stronger, and Jaelene's raging emotions were in turmoil. How would Tor feel to have love just yanked from him? Why does he always get to choose? Well this time, Jae was going to make him the loser.'You will offer me your love and nothing more?' Jae calmly asked him. Toraxyn nodded to her, 'Jae my love has always been yours, I can't stop how I feel about you.' Jaelene's eyes grew cold, 'Take me to the garden Tor, show me your love, let me feel it.' It was at the garden Jae would find justice in her heart break. Unclothed, unarmed and completely unaware, Jaelene's dagger found it's way to Tor's heart. Jaelene looked at Tor's lifeless body and whispered, 'Now you have reason to love so badly.' Jaelene picked up Tor's things and left the Garden quietly. Wandering around Jaelene stumbled upon Harrison again. Jae shoved Tor's things into his arms and feel to her knees sobbing. Harrison scooped Jaelene up and rocked her as he kissed her forehead. Softly he whispered, 'It's okay Jae, It's okay. No one will hurt you.' Jaelene sought his comforting words and let Harrison take her back home where she slept a fitful sleep. -------------------------- Message 301 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 6 10:56:00 1997 EDT From: Morpheus (#12681) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Prodigy ' Morpheus nodded to his pupil as they sat cross legged within the dueling circles of Darkreach Tower. The child, Etan, son of the druid Alluvia looked calmly at him without fear or nervousness. ' "It is your move Etan." stated Morph as he looked to the oversized chess board that floated between them. ' Morpheus smiled as Etan's knight shifted forwards and left in its traditional pattern of movement, animating and attacking his pawn and removing it. Morph's sightless gaze shifted for a moment as he examined Etan. The child's aura half blinded him as he gazed upon it within the realm of spirit. There was little doubt that a great power lay within , but what that power was, and how it would be wielded remained unclear to Morpheus. All that he knew, was that Raven had warned him of the child's importance. For reasons yet unrevealed to him, the child's education and survival were vital to the cause for which Morpheus had labored so hard. ' Morph's bishop slid out on the illusionary chessboard, attacking and brutally slaying Etan's knight in a dreadful gout of blood as its scythe like weapon cleaved through the knight's heavy field plate armor. A smile blossomed on his face for an moment as he contemplated the move with satisfaction. A sudden darting from the other side of the board took him by surprise however, as Etan's queen shifted into another position. ' Check and mate. If Morpheus had possessed eyes, they would have surely popped out of their sockets. Across from him, the boy Etan quietly contemplated his victory with a face that was all too impassive and disturbingly devoid of emotion. -------------------------- Message 302 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 6 14:13:05 1997 EDT From: Milamber (#11545) To: *Storylines (#5236) Milamber stares out at the Wasteland from his perch high in the great tree, Eldorath. He recalls the recent ceremonies, joining another to the path of Gaia, and raising a second in her studies. He notices the pale, cool waves of wind rippling through the leaves and longs to be wandering anew. "But the time for study is now. I almost understand this spell...Eldorath will finally be a haven from destruction. Fully. Completely." Milamber returns to his lengthy studies. -------------------------- Message 303 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 6 14:53:06 1997 EDT From: Jasper (#17572) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Plans within plans... She looked at the pile of blueprints sitting on her desk (and around the desk, under the desk, and spilling out of the desk) with a tense frown. Brushing back her hair, she noticed it seemed to be going white much faster these days. With a pull that made her head hurt, she yanked the desk away from the wall, then fell to her knees, out of breath and flushed. A pile of data readouts spilled from the tallest stack on the desk and drifted across the room like leaves from a tree, caught on unseen currents of air as they settled lazily to the floor. Closing her eyes, she steeled herself for what she was about to do, telling herself again and again that it was indeed necessary, and trying not to think about what it would mean to her position. Drawing the back panel of the desk away, she pulled out a yellowed sheaf of papers, flipping through them as her heart pounded in her ears so loud that she thought she might pass out again. She took a long pull from her flask, squeezing her eyes shut at the taste, to try and calm her nerves. Sweeping all else from the desk, she laid each of the yellowed pages out in sequence, a look of horror in her eyes as she saw it take form again. The thin pencil lines on paper might as well have been red, gold, and black steel... Shivering, she flipped the latch on the door to her office, locking it shut. -------------------------- Message 304 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 6 15:56:54 1997 EDT From: Chimaerae (#3777) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Another day at the ranch Rated R (adult language, breif nudity) The morning was cooler than usual. For some reason, on this morning, she noticed. Slipping off the hammock, she ran her fingers through her hair, snapping back into reality as one of the blades grazed her scalp and a trail of blood wound her forehead, then trailed over her cheek like a blood tear. Brushing the droplet away, she half remembered that she probably couldn't cry now, not with her 'new eyes'. Blinded by her own mech. Now there was luck for you. But that had been a long time ago, and it felt longer than it really was. Thank the bounty of the wastes for Xanthe... looking over her form in the scratched glass of a cracked mirror, she chuckled to herself softly. Targeting her reflection in the scope, she ran her clawed fingertips across the glass with a sickening screech. She geared up to leave in silence. It was a morning to hunt. A few deaths would return her sense of calm. Crossing the campsite before anyone of note awoke, a slave woman's eyes narrowed at her, and the slave spat in her direction. Chimaera looked towards her feet, then back at the slave, who began to scream and shout curses in a tongue that Chimaerae failed to understand. The slave woman pointed towards the bonfire, tears streaming from her face. Chimaera simply laughed, and continued on. The Phoenix stood apart from the other mechs. It was a masterwork. Even the dim-witted mechanic who had cobbled it together from the remains of Alaric's 'Torch' and her own 'Scourge' said so to this day... though not publicly. That much would be obvious. It would always, publicly, at least, be called an abomination. Clicking her fingertips over the points of The Phoenix's wing feathers, she admired the way the firelight danced across its reflected surfaces. With a quiet, she climbed into the cockpit, and set her arms onto the control bars, resting her palms on the sensors, and letting the equilibrium controls set against her spine. "Lock tracking left, targeting right." With a click, a small lens raised from behind her left ear, and clamped into place over her eye. A small, hollow voice intoned: 'Tracking systems operational. Targeting systems operating at a 12% deficit to optimum performance. Authorize targeting sequence at reduced performance level?' Chimaera growled, "Yes Phoenix. Link targeting systems through right and left." The voice intoned: 'Targeting systems optimal.' The flickering 3d holomap rezzed up in front of her with the dizzying sensation of her conciousness falling into the landscape. She took a few steps, the feeling of motion mirrored in the holoform echoed by the motions of the Phoenix as it began to make its way across the wastes. The hololandscape began to change, the overlay of the tracking sensors that provided a gridlike readout and listings of possible target features was no longer matching the virtual setting that surrounded Chimaerae within the mech. A mountain that she was certain wasn't part of the wastelands outside rose from the holoearth, sending her equilibrium off, and almost knocking her from her balance. The mountain turned towards her, its craggy features becoming a face, which spoke quietly, but arrogantly, "Tracking systems were mine." The holoscreen rezzed out in a haze of static, leaving her with the bare wireframe provided by the tracking sensors. "ALARIC YOU BASTARD!!!" she screamed into the cockpit, her fingers contracting on the weapons controls, The Phoenix's claws driving into the sand before her where the face had appeared on the holo. Dull, echoing laughter filled the cockpit around Chimaerae, and she howled in anger. "I'll route you from this system if it is the last thing I do, Alaric... " Drawing a deep breath, she spoke, "Heat sensors, lock on left. Base terrain readout, lock on left. Base movement tracking, lock on left." The hollow voice intoned: 'Heat sensors functioning at -' before she switched the speaker off. (if you missed the nudity, well... oh well.) -------------------------- Message 305 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 6 19:25:14 1997 EDT From: Darci (#12478) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Dream Darci was devasted when she found out about the sickness that would befall Sky on his 22nd birthday. She tossed and turned all night, worried sick and unable to sleep. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, she fell into a deep sleep and dreamt of a ox that had been given to her long ago by her grandfather. The box held the only hope for keeping Sky alive. The next day she confronted Harrison in the lounge about the box that had been in Izara's cave. Darci sought help from her friend and fellow mage Akane when Harrison claimed to not know anything about the box. Akane and Darci brought Harrison to Akane's basement and cast a truth spell upon him. He broke under the spell and admitted to having the box. Now time was running out and Darci HAD to find a way to get the box back... -------------------------- Message 306 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 6 21:49:43 1997 EDT From: Haefen (#16887) To: *mages (#11664) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Return of the Haefen After about 9 months in the wilderness Haefen ventured back to the R/T building proad and happy about his new found skills and knowledge. For 9 months Haefen was in a dark forest with an old man who taught him everything he knew. Haefen learned about the history of magic, and then all about the powers of magic, and the power magus's and finally he learned about self control and self confidence. Haefen never really knew what he was missing in his studies. he was a hard studier and a good friend to many, but he lacked was self confidence and self control. He never could concentrate on his studies without dead silence and even that was too load. And so the old man showed him the ways of studying the magics. Haefen has now returned.. Back from the long vacation and ready to start to learn again. He is looking for Akane to see if he could still be in with the spellsingers like he was before. because he still does know the magic of the spellsingers! He has returned. -------------------------- Message 307 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 00:49:13 1997 EDT From: Llyr (#14400) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Ambush Llyr settles himself into The Reavers cockpit, sliding into the seat as if was a second skin. With a flick of a switch he turned on the power. *Greetings unto you Zealot,* The Reaver says to him seconds after coming online. "Morning old friend. Give me a diagnostic rundown." *Operating at 100% efficiency. Will we be testing the prototype today?* Llyr snickers before he answers, "Of course. Just need to find a test subject." Many hours later.... *I have discovered something on my doppler. Range: 1000 meters. Analysis: SoulMech* Llyr smiled for the second time that day, "Lets go and see who has just volunteered. Power up the SRM's and the plaz cannons. Divert some power to the new trick as well." Slowly pulling itself up from the sand dune, The Reaver took in its surroundings. Scattered dunes. Night. The 'target' appeared in visual range shortly there after. It was a hulking beast, made to resemble some kind of ancient warrior of medieval times. *All weapons have firing solution. Shall I target with the prototype?* "No, not just yet. Fire all weapons. Aim for its legs." A soft chorus whooshings and the snap of searing plamsa split the night air. Before the 'target' had time to react multiple missiles struck home against leg servos and rotators. The hot beams of plasma shearing all the way through to the other side. The 'target' throws it hands into the air, a very human reaction. Its own weapons forgotten as the sizzling and crackling of electricity played softly. *All weapons have scored direct hits. Target's damage estimated at 60%.* A loud popping and buzzing erupted from the 'target', "Help me...my systems are overloaded. She is not respond-*snap buzz crackle*" "Power up the new trick." *Intiating power up sequence. Shall I switch to manual?* "Switch to manual." "Hel- Hello?" More crackling and buzzzing. A small fire erupts on one of the severed legs. The Reaver brings it right arm around, the hand and forearm gone. Both replaced with a slim, lancelike projection. A small ball of energy clustered around the tip heralds the shot. It impacts with the 'target's cockpit, engulfing it in a crackling blue mass of energy. Then it is gone. *Shot a direct hit. No life signs on target.* "Let's crack it open and see." The Reaver makes it was to the fallen 'mech, reaching down with its left hand to peel the cockpit up like one would peel an orange. Inside, nothing but a zombified-corpse. The Reaver stands again, making its way back to the base, as the blazing sun peeks over the horizon. -------------------------- Message 308 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 02:30:11 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: o/~ ...the taste of metal.. disentigrator... o/~ Akane lounged around in the lounge, cursing in his native japanese tongue. Alluvia had tricked him, taking his only memory of his now-deceased Wife, his daughter Aurora Appalene Masters, to the Eldorath tree.. the one place Akane would not go, and would not try to go. He knew good and well many a soul were trapped in them trees, the maze like branches confusing.. so Akane had to think of another way to get his daughter.. otherwise he should just go join Magister Robitham within the Eagle's talons, for he couldn't.. wouldn't live another day without seeing his daughter.. his only memory of his wife.. Toraxyn had been stupid to cast that spell.. only helped in finishing Appalene off.. trying to take the demon out was like trying to throw a match into gasoline, believing if you thought it wouldn't burn, that it wouldn't.. he was wrong of course, and the spell backfired. The fool seeker slumped to the floor, while Alluvia had Aurora in her arms.. he should've never let her out of his sight.. foolish things like that would eventually get him killed.. which he didn't want to happen.. so he gathered up his wits, and any happiness he could produce, and thought.. he would get a magus to open a portal to eldorath, or to get the child somehow.. Akane would not let Alluvia take the child from him, that was for certain. Now, Akane had to think.. to ponder.. what was he to do next? what was he to try? he sighed quietly, rubbing his temples with his hands, and laying back into a beanbag, knowing he would see his child one way or the other, and he would get her out of that cursed tree. [OOC: was great RP.. thanks for your help in this everyone who participated.] -------------------------- Message 309 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 08:52:02 1997 EDT From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: What a night. (R) For one who didn't usually feel very much emotion, this was a very odd night indeed. She'd been furious, sorrowful, happy, pleased....alone, used, and finally, dead. It seemed that old magister Devon had been screwing around with demons again, and now one had taken over his body. She had bad encounters with demons...the clawmarks on her cheek testament to her last one. Her second encounter would be no different. Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. Demon's mind in a human body. He was like his 'brother' in many ways...same raspy voice, same cainines, same overinflated ego...only thing he didn't have was claws, but his rapier worked well enough. He jabbed it around her insides, causing blood to flow everywhere...but she did not feel it. Then he used some form of compulsion on her...her struggles stopped, and she listened to what he had to say. He told her much...the replacement of Devon with himself..how he needed tantric energy to survive... (he was really a fool) and how she was now his, and would satisfy his desires and 'feed' him. He probed her mind, just as Devon did...searching for memories, anything to use against her. But he was more ingenious than Devon was...he found a memory that could actually touch her. Lisa seemed to appear before her. Coreen was actually shocked, as she had watched Lisa die with her own two eyes, in a place where there was no Eagle, no second chance. The demon insisted that Lisa's soul was in purgatory, and he, being of there, could bring it out to her...if she did his bidding. Coreen was not stupid, and was no lapdog. Still, she wanted to say so much...Lisa spoke of a short amount of time...but something was wrong. She said she would do anything Coreen wanted...like a slave almost.... The demon was trying to fool her. She told him it had not worked. He took her savagely, occasionally changing form to a pleading Lisa in hopes of unsettling her... Coreen did feel some tinge of betrayal...if there was hope, she should have taken it...but that would be a ruse for another time. She had been killed, in the end, by pleasure....a most interesting death as her heart sped up to huge proportions, finally bursting and leaving her with a few hazy moments before she expired, in which she felt the greatest ecstasy she had ever known... Of course, the demon had used tatric magic to amplify everything...but it was all so vivid... She awoke in her tent, weak from being drained by the demon...she immediately collapsed into a sleep in which visions of Lisa assaulted her. She was furious, but could do nothing.,..her body had no energy with which to be angry. She slept. Her strength gradually returned, as did cognisance of what had happened. This was the last straw. -------------------------- Message 310 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 11:39:18 1997 EDT From: Xrara (#16047) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Coming Home Xrara slowly untangled her arms and legs from the sleeping form in her bed. Carefull not to wake him, she slid out of the bed and tucked the sheet back around him, planting a small kiss on his forhead. She stretched slowly drawing her arms up over her head, frowning as reality hit again. The new scars on her back refusing to let her skin be as elastic as it once was. Xrara sighed, if he didnt feel them on her back last night he would know soon enough. She wasnt looking forward to that, not at all. Grabbing her coveralls, boots and belt she headed off to shower and to contemplate the day before and the one started. She had left her mech in the wastes the day before then hiked the few miles in to the R/T building. It seemed safe enough, but why risk the new paintjob because she wasnt cautious. She couldnt believe her luck, Brubaker was there. *laugh* They were both a month late arriving, the rest of the clan not to be found.. yet. Bru was nice enough to let them all have some time off while things were calm and most things were caught up on. Xrara laughed softly, but he wasted no time making her work again. Checking out that little cutie was just the thing to get her back into the swing of things. Sand Tigers loss, their gain. -Work then Play-, Bru knew her too well, the one guy who could always see beneath her fluff and smiles to the mind working beneath. It was damn nice having the clan come back after time off, stories of family and friends, some past grudges forgotten, new ones built. All in all a happy family. Looking back over her shoulder, Xrara slipped out the door. Menroth better be ready to work, but she had faith he would be there before she arrived. The man was organized and clearly knew his stuff. It would be an enlightening morning for both of them. OOC : sorry if i lost anyone in this post.. *grin* stil fitting into my soulmech skin -------------------------- Message 311 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 20:17:49 1997 EDT From: Melira (#18088) To: *Storylines (#5236) 'Well, that's done with..' Melira grumbled to herself. She's just woken up from a troubled nap, trying to sleep off the insanity that accompanied a visit to the Eagle. It hadn't quite happened the way she'd wanted it to (she never thought she'd end up dead) but it could most certainly be turned to her advantage. Traxsu had come to her with some fool mech problem, and he couldn't make up his mind. She'd been growing increasingly bored with him, anyway, and it hadn't helped when Toraxyn showed up and made some sly (but interesting) comments. One thing had lead to another, and as Melira was goading Traxsu into leaving her - yet having it still look like his fault, (she loved him, he broke his word, yadda yadda) - A rather attractive mech showed up.. they were referring to him as .. what was that? Oh yes.. Llyr. At any rate, Traxsu had gone completely mad for very little reason, and (probably since he knew Melira and Toraxyn were friends.. and also because they'd been openly flirting) he had suddenly drawn his gun and blown Tor seemingly to bits. While Melira was occupied first with lashing out at Traxsu, then at arousing him (so he'd beleive she loved him), she failed to notice that Llyr had Traxsu's gun.. until it went off, and for a breif instant she was aware of a tearing pain in her head and blood. Then she was face to face with the great bird... She sighed.. Traxsu was effectively an enemy again, and she could surely get Toraxyn to side with her -- possibly even Rathe. Traxsu's attack on Tor had been unwarranted, and Llyr's murdering of her had simply been out of.. annoyance? Arrogance? Who knew? She was defenseless - couldn't weild a sword much less a spell. And besides, she was lovely. Yes... this would all work out very nicely, it seemed... -------------------------- Message 312 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 20:29:50 1997 EDT From: Chimaerae (#3777) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Old friends... She scowled as she stalked through the camp. *Why did he still have to be around?* she thought angrily to herself, cursing under her breath. Then again, she knew he would never leave them. He would never leave them until he was dead. That was the one death she still could could bring herself to wish for, no matter how much simpler it would make her life... Crossing her arms against her chest, she closed her eyes. "I guess it's gonna bear some testing to see if these damn things can cry now... " she muttered, then glared around the room, amazed she had thought such, let alone said it aloud. Steeling her resolve, she began replacing bits of her armor, and checking her internal systems. Looking up at the Phoenix, she knew it was best to keep her mind focused forward... to the coming battle. That was all she needed, a good fight to get the blood flowing again.. hers, she hoped, far less freely than that of the arrogant Speaker of the Nightrunners... -------------------------- Message 313 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 7 21:33:01 1997 EDT From: Chimaerae (#3777) To: *Chat (#5391), *Storylines (#5236), and *SoulMechs (#9541) Subject: Note about the combat... There will be a soulmech combat tonight, purely emote. Feel free to spectate OOCly, but do not become ICly involved without the consent of both of the combatants. Thanx Chimi PS.. location and time to be announced, please do not page. *smile* -------------------------- Message 314 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 12:07:33 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: like a bridge over troubled waters? Harrison sat on the beach at Toosay and gazed out over the rough sea. There was a storm coming in, and he was just able to see the dark clouds as they crept over the horizon. He wondered now if Iz was out there, if she was safe, if it had all been worth it. His mind drifted back to the night that he found the box. Iz had it buried in the far corner of the cave. One night after a they had made mad love, she had crept from under the quilts and walked over to the corner. She moved a small stone, then dug down a few feet, and finally produced the small golden box.It was small and finely crafted, and inlaid with the most brilliant gold he had ever seen. He watched her through barely opened lids as she slid the box back into place and busily filled the hole... The box....it was the box that Darci and Akane had been looking for when the kidnapped him. He had eventually dug up the box, trying to figure out the small latch that seemed harder to pry than the most durable kirlian lock. When he finally figured it out he laughed to himself, then quickly opened the box, anxious to see what Subbie treasure Iz had kept from him, and he found....a bunch of dried leaves?! Once hunting on the wheel he had run into the Chim, and was stranded without a medkit or crystals. Out of panic he tore open his backpack and found the box. Grabbing a handful of leaves, he shoved them into his mouth nearly gagging on their acrid taste, and then watched in wonder as his wounds closed. He sat back and sighed happily...and then the hallucinations started... He had tripped for nearly three days. For a time he was back home, in his own time, eating dinner with his Father. He bounced around in time, from the earliest moments of creation to the icy entropic end, and when he finally came down he was cured from the cryopsychosis that had plagued him since he thawed out so many months ago. He had no doubts as to the curative powers of the leaves, and whatever it was that now troubled Skywalker would surely be remedied by them. harrison knew full well why Darci was so adamant about telling her where the box was. He tried to resist, but eventually Akane used his magic to force the truth from him... -------------------------- Message 315 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 12:23:20 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: part 2 "Izara was an agent for the Aesir..." Darci and Akane looked at him in disbelief, but the it was clear that he was telling the truth. Darci spat at him, cursing his name, "I know your responsible for this Harrison...I know it!" For once though, Harr really was innocent. He had become aware of Iz's double life shortly after his first experience with Rathe. Karcass had nailed him good and then had taken him to the jail in Coral's Reach. Rathe had finally released him after he had returned his staff. "My advice to you Harrison," Rathe had said, "is to decline Mugwump's generosity next time...that is if you value yer life." He had returned to the cave to find Izara gone. Three days later she returned, supposedly from hunting, with a pouch full of crystals and a new spear. When Harrison pressed her about where she had been, she had laughed and said, "Don't you worry my love, just talking with some friends about this Karcass business." Over the next few months Harr would watch Izara closely, always troubled by her sudden departures, her vague answers, and the source of so many of the valuable items she kept bringing home. He had thought for some time that it was Locus trying to buy her love, he'd even killed based on the suspicion. Then something happened that would make everything clear. One day while swimming at the far edge of the Undersea Kingdom, Iz and Harrison had come face to face with an Aesir raiding party. The leader took one look at Iz, nodded slightly, then swam away, the others following. Later that night he dreamed again and again of that nod, that glint of recognition in his eye, and as he woke shaking the sleep from his head, he knew the truth. -------------------------- Message 316 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 12:41:17 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: just a lil more cus I love you soooo much He never said anything to Iz, but as he watched her over the next few months, it became clear that his suspicions were correct. From the times seeing Karcass and Izara together he had also realised that Karc knew... but Iz had something on him, a secret of some sort that she held over his head tauntingly. That's why they had never gotten along. Harrison had been convinced of Karcass' involvement in all this, his dislike for him overpowering his reason, and at the first opportunity Harrison had jumped Karcass, hoping that if he could just land a good strike...but luck was not with him. Then came that dreadful night. Karcass and Elendil had shown up at the cave, demanding that Izara let them in. She laughed at first, and then Karcass murmured something to her and she truned deathly pale and with a click opened the gate to the cave. Elendil seized Izara by the arm and smacked her hard across the face. "You dare betray your own kind to Aesir! I should kill you now..." Karcass had motioned to Elendil to ease back, and he released Iz's arm reluctantly. "Where is the box Izara?" Karcass had demanded. She nodded quietly and went to the trunk. She opened it, pulling out her spear and sent it sailing towards Karcass. Harrison drew his sword and leaped at Elendil, and Izara fled through the hole and into the dark waters. With a crunch of bone Elendil had put Harrison down, and when he finally returned from the Eagle everything he had come to love was gone. His girl, his sword, and his whole life, gone in an instant. Some day's later he had found himself roaming aimlessly in the wastes. His head ached and he felt terribly confused about so many things. It took him some minutes to realise the chirping noise was his comm... "Hello?" "You will meet me in the lounge of Hana House. Bring the box." "Who is this?" Harr asked, not even sure if he knew his own name. The comm went dead...and Harr went to the Wasteland Gates and hailed a ship, running a dry cracked hand through his filthy natted hair. -------------------------- Message 317 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 13:02:50 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: last one I swear ta god ...He walked into the Tea Room at Hana House, oblivious to the whispers and stares from the more wealthy patrons. A tall bulky Subbie motioned him over to a corner table, and he sat down trying to place the stranger's face. It looked soo familiar...so much like...like...Shaelin. Yes same nose, same eyes, and the hair...the resemblance was startling. "Give me the box..." He said grufly, "or Izara dies. The Aesir do not take kindly to being betrayed." "Withouth thinking Harr reached into his backpack" "Who are you?" Harr asked, reaching into his backpack. "My name is Urizen, and I am the next leader of Atlantis." He laughed loudly, banging his hand forcefully on the table. Harr slid the box to him slowly. "This will ensure her safety. You poor fool, you have no idea what kind of power you've been carrying around in that backpack of yours. The rain was falling in stinging pellets now. Lightining danced across the water, and the shadows deepened as the angry clouds rumbled inland. Harr considered the last words Urizen had said to him, paying no mind to teh downpour. "We will send another agent, speak of this and you die, help us, you will be rewarded." At first he thought for sure it would be Karcass, and then he found out that Karc had been put in jail, and he realised that Karcass had been set up. He laughed at the thought and tried to figure out who else was workin for the Aesir. He had even constructed this elaborate conspiracy theory that went all the way back to Lamia's leaving the Undersea and The Triumvirate. Then he had met Jae, roaming as he had been in the Wastes. "A subbie? Out here? Bah....Kill me will you...I'm tired of being played." So he had taken her in, convinced her of her safety, then had proceeded to torture her till she was finally able to escape from him. The whole thing had driven him over the edge, and the cryopsychosis had slowly wittled away at his senses. It was only after he saw the pain in Toraxyn's eyes as Jaelene left him and followed Harrison home that he regained his sanity. JAe was not the contact either. "Oh god what have I done?" Harr thought, looking sadly at Jaelene. He had been wrong about Karcass, and Jae...from now on he would have to be much more careful... -------------------------- Message 318 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 13:25:30 1997 EDT From: Harrison (#18522) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: quick ooc addendum OOC: Sorry all, just a quickie. heh. anyway, thanks to everyone who's helpin me out with this...if yer mentioned and feel like playin this tp, page me with suggestions or feel free to post related story's thanks d. -------------------------- Message 319 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 13:46:32 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: To do or not to do Rosa sat happily on the bar in the R/T Lounge, swinging her legs with glee as she chatted with Harrison and Rathe. Rosa slowly formed plans for her new illusion in her mind, she could feel the power of the hell magic gliding through her body in preparation. The niggling through of Ysith's offer tickled at her mind. Happily Rosa turn to Rathe and chirped, "Ysith say that if Rosa promised not use demon magic that Ysith make Rosa human. R"Rosa giggled happily, "Rosa always use demon magic!" Eager to impress Rosa quickly filled the room to overflowing with a fantasy land of cherubs, nymphs, brooks, butterflies, brightly colored birds, and other wood land creatures. Rosa clapped her hands in delight as a butterfly landed lightly on Rathe's head. Rathe look coldly at Rosa, "Cute, now kill the illusion." Rosa looked at Rathe hurt, "No like? Why you no like? Rosa like! pretty! Rathe sighed, "Rosa you'll turn into a demon if you keep doing that. Don't use it again. Rosa nodded her head slowly as Rathe patted her lightly on the head. "Have fun playing, I'm going to return to my studies. Rosa looked at Rathe, eager to fix her mistake. "Rosa open a portal for Rathe?" Rathe nodded, "Yes but use shadow magic not demon magic." Rosa looked at Rathe stunned. The only way she coudl eopn the shadow portal was by using demon magic. She bit her lip in a frown. she wanted to please Rathe by giving him the portal but inorder to do it she had to use her demon magic. Rosa closed her eyes and created the portal. Rosa sighed heavily once Rathe was gone, seeking to distract herself Rosa recreated her wonderland thinking that it would cause no harm. Slowly the vines, birds, trees, nymphs, and her other created joys slip from the walsl to dance around the room gaily. Rosa smiled in delight at her creation unaware of the red flame that glowed in her eyes. -------------------------- Message 320 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 14:25:34 1997 EDT From: Izara (#17237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: It continues Izara searched the cave frantically as she had done everyday, for hours it seemed, since Harrison had left. "Damn him", she yelled out in frustration, "He has no fucking idea what he has done..." Sitting down on her bed she finally admitted to herself that Harrison had taken the box. At first she wasnt sure, thinking maybe she had hid it in a different spot during some drunken haze. She looked around the cave, small holes covered most of the floor, clothing and weapons strewn all over in her attempts to empty everything that could possible hold the golden box. There was only one thing she could do, find Harrison. Damn, she hadn't seen him since the day he was sprawled out naked on the floor in the subbie cell. "What do I do when I find him" , she muttered to herself. She knew that there was no way she could overpower him, at least not physically. A small smile played across her face as the image of Harrison, naked, in the fountain under the DRT. An idea flashed through her mind, she would lure him in. Taunt him with delusions of pleasure. Knowing Harrison the way she did, she knew he wouldn't be able to resist. Once she had him, death to him...."No...not death", she whispered, "torture, slow agonizing torture until he gives back what is rightfully mine". Izara thought about the ones in charge for a second, maybe she was thinking to hastily. Picking up her comm she dialed in a secure number. She talked freely into her comm, knowing the conversation was scrambled to anyone outside the upper echelon of the "Authority." -------------------------- Message 321 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 17:29:55 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Helping friends, digging into a plot over his head? Akane laid beside the now sleeping form of Serenio, wrapping his hands in a soft white glow.. how easy it had been to force Harrison to tell the truth.. the restraint magic worked especially well.. he would thank Rathe later.. now.. Akane was faced with more problems.. Darci and Boxes.. some kind of special stuff.. "heh.. maybe its some of that valium she is pushing these days.." he chuckled to himself, she had used that on Harrison in the first place.. some pretty spiced valium.. a wry grin crossed his lips.. he would have to help Darci.. she was a great friend, and it involved her family.. honor before nothing.. Robitham spoke the words into his head whilst Akane slept.. he hopped out of bed without a sound, his feet lightly touching the floor, and walked over to the window, twirling a small brass key.. and looking at a large clump of hair in a small, magically warded bag.. Harrison's hair.. how easy had Darci not known Akane's intentions to use the hair for his own purposes.. but all will unfold soon.. Darci's sis would get her box back, and things will be calm again. Akane yet again smiled wryly, looking at the door, and then at the sleeping form of Serenio.. thoughts flooded his mind yet again.. now, he would have to get his daughter Aurora back.. he would get her back.. or he would know of someone else who would help him out.. flame flickered in Akane's weary eyes, and he slipped out the door, waiting for the next adventure. -------------------------- Message 322 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 20:05:18 1997 EDT From: Kinniver (#20180) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Confused yet? (PG) The sands of the great Wasteland shifted as the wind blew, each individual grain of sand dancing across the near endless tract. A lone form was making its way through the wastes, moving quickly and effortlessly, his strides long, the sun glinting off his sweat moistened skin. Thoughts were running through the figures mind, events of the days just past being sorted and gleaned for information that might continue to keep the 'Scourge Knight of the Severin Desert' alive for yet another day. The week had started out slow enough for him, his morning jog across the wastes, a swim in Jizo, and then.. His morning ale at the R/T Tower, the one thing he *never* missed. Then his practice runs with Outlaw, his best friend, constant companion, several times over savior of his life, and when times were hard, savior of his mind. More ale afterwards in the R/T, always followed by adventuring in the places that the small shuttles would carry him to, back to the R/T for more ale.. It never changed much, his schedule, and he was happy to once again have a stable life, even if the place he was in was not as dangerous as his former home. He enjoyed his time with the Dune Rider, Eponine. "Aye lad", he thought, "She is a prize catch, she is.. Don' lose 'er.." But he almost had, and it was his fault. The sweet little submariner, Jaelene, had gotten tipsy on vodka after getting depressed that her love, Toraxyn, left with some female mage. She had asked Kinn if he wanted to kiss her, wrapped her arms around him. Stunned, Kinn had no idea what to say or think. Then, Eponine walked in. She had that cold look in her eyes, not in the loud way of some. He had not known fear till that day, and after that, he had an idea of what it was. He shuddered, hoping she never looked at him like that again. Life went on, the week progressing slowly, like a waltz, when someone he respects quite a bit had an odd.. problem. Axelle, who he calls 'Fire Witch', was not well. "A conniption fit lad.. Tha' wha' it was..", says he as he jogs along, to no one in particular. He chased her and this ghost that popped out of her, but she and the ghost escaped in one of the helicopters that sit on the Tower, and his anger roiled out onto the wastes, his shouts of epithets unmatched in their ferocity and vulgarity. To end his week, heading towards worse, she appeared at the Tower.. The one that was whispered about in the darkest corners of the Severin.. The Dark Angel, she had been nicknamed by those who rode mechs in the Severin. She and her kind had cost him his eye, a scar that could not be repaired, one that would remind him of the pain and give him the clarity of focus to seek revenge. She had given disturbing news, seemed to think of him as a brother in arms, telling him of the Sand Tiger want to destroy all rogues and renegades. "Bring 'em on.. Th' whole stinkin' candy lot..", he screamed as he continued to run, the rest of the thought in his mind, "I hae not survived th' death pits of th' Severin to be killed by some group of kids. Bah! Outlaw 'n I can deal with 'em." He had not told Eponine of this, wondered what she would say, would think.. But he would not say.. Doing so would make him the Scourge Knight of the Severin no longer.. -------------------------- Message 323 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 8 20:51:10 1997 EDT From: Nigel (#7159) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: ... Evening. Already? It seemed he had just breaked for lunch.. Nigel shook his head. The hours passed so quickly now. He was sitting at the small table in the cavern he shared with Ylise, pouring over the papers she had claimed were his. He still remembered nothing. Nothing of the work he had done.. not the serum he had developed against the strange wolf hybrid.. not the years in his homeland, independant and free of Dakirion . o O (now there was a thought...to be truely free of them...).. not the explorations he had made of the valley. He sighed. He would resume those explorations tomorrow... maybe that would help. Ylise told him they were married.. she obviously believed it. He supposed he did as well. The ring.. the papers that wer so clearly his workm though he did not remember them.. the things he knew against all reason, like Ylise's fondness for wine... the evidence was conclusive. If only he could remember. He smiled faintly, remembering the night of passion he had spent with Ylise on his 'return' here. There was something then... some faint deja vu. Nigel winced and pressed his fingers to his forehead again. The headaches were getting worse. Normal pain relievers were ineffective, and he dared not use the medicine that Temple had prescribed. He closed his eyes, seeking his focus. Pain was transient... he would get by. Nigel convulsed suddenly... his mind bombarded by images.. a cacophony of voices whispering just beyond his range of hearing... a miasma of odors of tastes of pure sensation, flickering by too fast to identify. He struggled internally fighting the images...then, for a moment, remembered.. A platform... not two feet in diameter and supported by a strong, but springy sapling that bent with the slightest effort. Nigel's father standing before it... helping Nigel up after he had fallen from the device again. 'Think of the oak son... strong,, sturdy. Stable as a rock. Anyone may balance on an oak.' His father nodded at the sapling. 'That is not an oak. But you must balance on it. Fight it and it will throw you off every time.. ah, but move with it? Then you will stay, my son. Life you will find is a sapling, not an oak. To have balance, you must make its motions your own.'" Nigel closed his eyes again. Focus. Balance. He stopped fighting the tide of memories and let them flow over him... around... past. They were not the memories we was looking for... but they were a start. They were a start. -------------------------- Message 324 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 9 09:00:33 1997 EDT From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Continuing Plan, Rated R better safe than sorry ;) Ekrebus had finished with Coreen, it was not the way he wanted to have done it but it worked out in the end for him either way. Wanting to go home but the blasted mages outside had him furious, Rathe especially and that cursed katana. In the end his attacks meant nothing, this body wasn't strong enough and it got him thinking that perhaps this wasn't the right way to win in the end. The mage was powerful to a point but he still lacked cunning and intelligence, his thoughts suddenly turned to the mages's wife, Yalindra. The dreams had progressed nicely, he had been in them every moment, and with one more spell he would be bound to her forever. The humans anniversaries rolled around, he controlled her and made her do as he wished, making her wear a harem outfit, saying it gave her more passion in this. Even more important he gave her a small obsidian necklace, through this he could control her dreams as though they were his own. Myst seemed happy and and nothing he could do was wrong. The left for Jizo, making love in a pool, as he cast the final spell, a lifelink. Now Devon and Yalindra were bound through they're plasure, and their pain, taking advantage of this he planned to wear her till she couldn't move then reveal his idenitity and she'd have little choice in her state. All she had to do was say yes, and the plan went as predicted, but Myst was ever enduring to the last she wouldn't accept. the demon restore her strength to show her he could do anything, and that no matter what she was his, or if not she'd never have a husband or a son again. Myst slashed at his violently, each cut forming on her body as well he laughed wickedly as the realization hit her. She fled into the night, he stayed there gathering up his things and headed for the r/t. He wasn't pleased how it turned out but it would have to do. Finale to follow. -------------------------- Message 325 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 10 11:12:02 1997 EDT From: Smoke (#11265) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Home Smoke sat in the garden letting the sweet smells of roses and day lilies invade her senses, relaxing, feeling happy for once in a long while. "Oh this is bullshit," she thought to herself, "sooner or later he is going to find out that Im back, I might as well get off my ass and get it over with". Slipping through the French doors of the enclosed garden out to into the tropic air of Jizo, Smoke made the short trek down beach to Kzins..... -------------------------- Message 326 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 10 12:11:13 1997 EDT From: Traxsu (#16334) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: "End of Duty. Traxsu's computer screen flashed as new incoming mail arrived. It was from home and as he read the bulletin he couldn't believe his eyes. Apparently the governing mayor had tricked the cyborgs, they had killed them with the trap. Traxsu was exstatic, he never finished reading the message that was enough to know. It meant he was finally free, he could have fun and do whatever he wanted without his honor and duty for his people looming in the background! He ran out of the base and climbed into Phoebus, zooming across the wasteland and arriving at the r/t. He was in a great mood, and nothing could disturb him even partially. Coming into the bar he saw a few friends jasper, Cheetah, even that new pilot Xrara. The rest of a night was a blur, he shouldn't have had Jasper's 'nuclear fuel' some sort of drink he thought, then as he woke up the next morning as home he remembered the mail. Solitude has gone thru a drunken stupor, in his mind he wasn't setting the right example as he should for sand tiger, he'd made too many mistakes. Trsunks thought about what to do, he could wait for elections and hope Cheetah would become leader, but leaving if Cheetah lost would look very dishonorable. At this point he'd given Solitude as much a chance as he could, Solitude was a nice guy and all, but he wasn't leader material. Grabbing his dufflebag he tossed it over his shoulder, with the new modifications he made to the Phoebus he now had a room where he could sleep inside it, just needed to stay in the wasteland a while and look for that new leader of Thunder Wind no one had seen. Slipping to Solitude's office he left the papers for his resignation with the explanation clear of what had gone wrong, as he left he wondered if this made him a rogue pilot and winced at the thought. -------------------------- Message 327 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 10 12:48:21 1997 EDT From: Cheetah (#12402) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: One helluva night.. Cheetah groaned, rolling right out of his hammock and hitting the ground with a dull thud. He started to mutter something, but only muffled "Ugh" seemed to escape his lips. That supposed nuclear fuel of Jasper's definitely had a kick to it, and a come-down to match. Looking through bleary eyes, he surveyed the room. It was quite a bit like his office in TOHQ, except of course for the rocking of the pontoons. Posters depicting portions of cyberspace were located in various places, and technical manuals littered the floor. "What a geek this place must belong to..," Cheetah grinned. Managing to crawl back to his feet and slump against a wall, Cheetah reflected on the previous night. Jasper's rather sudden actions towards me had been rather startling at first, but after a few drinks from her little flask, he really didn't care much anymore. The entire night as a whole had been a blast, Solitude's drunken stupor being enough to get a good chuckle from the entire room.. Suddenly, Cheet groaned. "Gods of fire and war..," he muttered. "I didn't.. I couldn't have.." he tapped a few keys on his Datterm, and sure enough, the end of the camera bot's transmission was on the screen, showing Solitude tottering, drunk, out of the lounge. A sign flashed on the screen: "Sent to entire network neighborhood.".. Cheetah knew he must have sent the packages out last night to.. "Oh well," he chuckled. "This'll help my chances in the ellections, at least.. And if I lose, well.. I hear Thunderwind could use a few more people..." -------------------------- Message 328 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 10 16:24:10 1997 EDT From: Synge (#12541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Synge lazied around his hall. He threw back his head, drinking down his whiskey in one shot, watching the computer screen, "Initiate System Readout." he said firmly, then the screen said, "Acknowledged.. initiating system core readout TO104... initiated." and the screen erupted in a flood of text and holographic schematics.. "Computer, acknowledge System reboot.. main core datalink." the screen stopped suddenly, drawing a holographic schematic in the air beside it. "Datalink core... operational." he fed a chip into a small slot, and grinned.. "Computer, reboot core.. security systems and anti-viral utilities online." "Warning.. anti-viral core unstable.. new card contains X201049 viral entity.. disregarding said parameters, and destroying viral entity.." a whirl was heard, and a small map appeared on screen. "Viral Entity.. destroyed." Synge grinned, and patted the dataterm, "good girl.. now.. Computer, update system core to accumilate data interlock from the chip." the computer whirred again, "acknowledged.." After what seemed to be hours of watching a progress scale turn from red to green, and then to blue.. finally, the whole HQ shut down.. Synge grumbled, fumbling for a flashlight.. but suddenly, the whole complex came back on line.. and the new core booted up. "welcome to Tech Order HQ Network Core.. version 9.014, enter user name, password, and retinal/cerebral ID." and Synge did it, and the core showed the entire HQ's area and surrounding systems.. Synge inserted a diskette, and A screen appeared, showing Solitude acting like a drunken bum as he drank some of Jasper's flask.. "well well.. guess Cheetah liked my idea of a camera 'bot.." he chuckled.. watching it again, and again.. "Computer.. send this file to a friend of mine up around the former canadian border.. authorization.. Synge A3l98-0583.. initiate." and the computer whirred again, "Transfer started.. Estimated upload time.. 3 hours, 4 minutes, 5 seconds." Synge grinned, and drank some more whiskey, his remaining thoughts of Ariana, the wolf, Toraxyn, life, death, and love fading into a calm greyness.. he had swiped some Valium pills from Darci a while back.. and the effect kicked in immediately.. "She don't love me.. I don't care anymore.." he tapped a few keys on his wrist console, and a screen brightened, showing Ariana's figure two dimensionally.. he sighed faintly, and shut it down, kicking back in his chair, and falling asleep -------------------------- Message 329 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun May 11 13:33:06 1997 EDT From: Cheetah (#12402) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sleep, perchance to dream.. They came again, for the first time since his experiment in cryogenic stasis. Within an hour's time, the eight long months of freeze sleep washed over him.. The dreams returned. In the 21st century, before the holocaust struck, scientists in the cryogenic facilities that were popping up all over north america insisted that the ice dreams were a urban myth. The brain was inactive during cryostasis, dreams were impossible. So wrong.. So wrong it was almost funny. Cheetah too was convinced that the stories of ice dreams were just myths.. The idea of virtual immortality via suspended animation was just too much to pass up. Imagine, being put in stasis to awake a hundred years from now, to see the progress the Tech Order was sure to make! Perhaps, even to see the demise of mages... Crawling into the cryo stasis pod, he gave the verbal command to the computer to begin. A faint pinprick could be felt against his neck, and everything slowly grew fuzzy, reality fading to black as the cold began to seep into his bones, the lid of the cryostasis "coffin" closing over him.. Then the dreams came. At first, they were but splotches of color on his retinas, then faintly remembered images of former friends, former family, then the pre-holocaust machines that destroyed the colony.. His mind seemed to focus on the latter, the last month of his life in the colony replayed itself in vivid detail.. A blurr, for several months. His mind became active for a moment, his thoughts raced. Something was wrong.. He was thawing, but something was wrong... Blackness. The dreams returned. His years leading up to the day he stepped into the cryo pod.. Oddly enough, the magus Moonheart haunted him, as some recurring spectre from his life in the world of light. The magus and his tricks... Light.. He felt warmth once more. The cold was seeping away, and he stumbled out of the pod. The ice burns covered his body, and his head ached painfully.. For a terrifying moment, it seemed his mind was gone, then everything flooded back to him.. Stepping into the pod.. Cheetah's eyes snapped open, and he surveyed the workroom where he now found himself. The gentle rocking of the pontoons was not there, he wasn't in the facility.. The soulmechs. Jasper. He chuckled suddenly, the dreams almost forgotten. "Your mind's not quite gone yet, Cheets.. Not quite yet," he mumbled, crawling out of the bed Jasper had cleared for him, his boots coming down squarely on a stack of papers, which he promptly slipped on, hitting the floor in a whirlwind of white office paper. He groaned, and rolled over onto his back. "More bloody messy than my office.. Gods." But with the dreams, something seemed to have been gained. Moonheart was no longer a worry, nor were the mages.. Neither the magus' bugs nor the insane mages' powers touch him in the firezone.. He had a Tribe to help, a job to watch after.. The sometimes tedious, but constant, clan life was almost preferable, patrol duties and all, to the silence that plagued him in his TOHQ office.. In an odd way, the firezone felt almost like home... (Sorry for the spam guys :) In short, this' pretty much a returning post for Cheetah, as I haven't been playing him in AGES :) Should be fun to start playin' him again.... --Cheet ) -------------------------- Message 330 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 12 07:34:19 1997 EDT From: Zillah (#5587) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hunter of the Shadows is Rising. Zillah al'Muthlim creased her brows in thought as she eased the straps off the appendages of the now still corpse on her lab table. Only six hours had this one lasted. How in the world could she complete her scientific tests if her control subjects kept dying so quickly? Obviously she needed someone with a higher pain threshold or this would never become a valid study. "You think too much in analytical terms for one born with the spirit's touch," a baritone voice startled her and she whirled around, furious at the intrusion. This was a brash Child who needed discipline, yes. But the man before her bore no resemblance to any Coven member, let alone a Child. He smiled coldly and shook his head at her. "You can never hear the dark when it's stalking, you most of all should know that, Queen of the Shadows." Zillah felt her fury slip away, melting off her features. She reached out with her internal sensers and gauged his power. He was greater the Astaroth, maybe even as great as Axelle. "You're not here to stalk," she finally replied, "so why have you granted the Coven a visit?" The man strode slowly around her lab, peeking into cages, studying vial of viscuous fluids and touching equipment as he spoke. "Your leadership is weak, my dear. Your dreadlord, Axelle, is the only true power. And you could be her equal if you would quit playing these scientific games and hone your abilities." Zillah's single eye narrowed slightly, but he continued imperceptably. "Then there is the matter of that weakling Astaroth. He is not fit to lead your army of darkness, my dear. You would do well to rid yourself of him." Zillah felt her spine turn rigid as she drew herself up to her full height of seven feet. Her eye shone brightly with the indignant rage she felt building inside her. Her words were crips, almost coming out with a hiss, "Who do you suggest I replace him with?" The stranger smiled patronizingly, placing a hand over his chest as if the answer should be clear, "Why, me of course." And Zillah burst out laughing. (To be continued...) -------------------------- Message 331 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 13 08:48:21 1997 EDT From: Coreen (#18717) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The theft of life (R) She would never understand that idiot Devon. She didn't care anymore. Even though he was possessed at the time, the magister had actually done something nice for her...he had given her the chance to raise a child...to actually love someone that wouldn't stab her in the back or use her. She didn't like how the child got there, but the past could not be changed. She had told Devon that his child grew within her, whether or not he had been in control...the magister's mood changed as rapidly as her own did. She woke up in her own home, having been sent to the Eagle... she saw why... had felt it as her wounds has healed...The bastard had taken away the child. HER child. He had no right! The child was in her womb, it was hers to care for, hers to decide what to do with!! Devon had always bothered her...had insulted her, killed her, then he had planted his seed where it was not welcome...but this...this was the final straw. When she returned from the Eagle, she killed Devon in an angry rage.. he seemed to welcome it, but he was always not quite there. It did not matter. Her child would never be avenged...avenged for the crime of having its life stolen away before it had a chance to live. She had seen many cruelties done before...had done a great deal herself, but she had seen nothing as harsh, as cruel and as unfair as what had happened to her child. She wept. She knew she wept. She didn't care..no one would see her, and if someone did...she didn't care either. One phrase resounded through her head: "Eye for an Eye" Yes. Yes, Devon had children..he had a wife...he had his weaknesses. She looked up in the general direction of the Mount and screamed with raging eyes, "Look out Devon...my revenge hasn't even started yet...." Keep your little family close, she thought, because you'll be losing part of it REAL soon. -------------------------- Message 332 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 13 10:45:39 1997 EDT From: Devon (#13677) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Clean up Rated PG. Devon chuckled upon arriving home on morlith, he had expected something from Coreen when she asked to whisper something to him, trying to rake him with her claws. Idiot girl, she acted like a girl and not a woman, screaming at the top of her lungs that she had his child, Devon grinned darkly, as he knew what to do and acted within seconds, eviscerating her with his dagger and letting viscera and gore fly around the room. No taking chances he thought to himself what had it been since the demon had left him 1 week? Coreen's statement could have been a bluff, but it didn't matter the child was gone now. He'd realized he was mean in taking her child, so instead he let her take his life, that seemed a fair trade. Leaping into his bed and putting his feet up he thought to himself, "Coreen wanted a child, I'm sure theres something I can do to help her, love spells hehe, hey wait Aquilya is into that mumbo jumbo, maybe?" Chuckling quietly at his plan for another day perhaps he slipped into Myst's arms he would tell her what had happened, God knows what she would think with all the other things going on... and drifted to sleep. -------------------------- Message 333 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 13 16:15:27 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Seeing is believing.. Ylaerin sat with the sun on her back, and the garden around her. She ran her ahands along Luthe's side, and hummed to herself... the talk with Morpheus had only proven what she thought to be potentially true, and she was glad he'd allowed her the choice of keeping her gift or shutting herself off from it. There were several reasons she had kept it -- the most selfish being her fear of never seeing her lsot love again if she lost it. She sighed, Yshar had seemed worried about it.. he'd been a bit down lately anyway, when he thought she wasn't looking. he ahd no real reason to be -- ever since she'd been told in her dreams that she was to write music for Eire, she'd been restless and full of energy.. she chuckled, *much* of that energy had been expended on her beloved Strafe. And though she'd been a bit worried, their discovery of her small gift of the Sight (as morpheus put it) was proof to Etra of her ability to have children, as well as of the validity of her mission. Luthe turned his ehad to snort playfully at her, and she grnined at him. Traxsu had told her earlier that she was out of touch with the world below Morlith.. she didn't think he was right, but with teh dragons around - especially Luthe - what real erason had she for spending time downland? She and Luthe were so looking forward to being Bonded... and the longer they had to wait, the less she liked being apart from him. So she would sit with her harp, and with her dragon.. and do her best to be a good wife to her husband (and maybe try to slow down for him).. and the rest of the world could go hang... Ylaerin threw her head back and laughed, and Luthe crooned gleefully at her.. his eyes whirled green and blue.. and before she could gather her wits, he'd pouunced on her and began wuffling her hair and face without mercy. 'This sapphire..' she thougt to herself, 'is nothing but trouble.' And she hugged her draig around the neck. OOC -- Haven't been around much.. faulty connection, call waiting, and server time limits bite. This basically goes to show wh, Etra's got work, and would rather hide out with Luthe and Yshar anyway.. for those of you who miss me (not many, I know ;) ) I'll try to be on as much as I can... Take care :) -------------------------- Message 334 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 13 17:04:01 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Akane walked through the vast hall of the spellsingers, looking about with a happy demeanor.. things have been going well lately.. the past week that is. Appalene's death came as a hard blow to him, but, in the end, his friends supported him, helped him.. actually trusted him again.. Serenio especially.. his lover now. Even through her black clothing.. the jagged scar which Serenio called his "mark" of love to her glowed silently, either it was his imagination, or magic was in play.. he grinned faintly, remembering how he had blindfolded her, taken her to the place behind the waterfalls in jizo, removed the blindfold, and made passionate love.. the only sound was their heated moans, and the soft rushing of the water.. She proclaimed her love for him.. as he did the same, embracing in the darkness.. Now, three days later, he had asked the adept Oryama to teach him the arts of the shadows.. Oryama couldn't teach him fully.. for he was not his true teacher, but he would help out, giving him advice and showing him what to do when he could.. Akane drew a small amount of shadow about his fingers, making a small black web. A fly did jet into it.. and the shadows shattered silently, leaving Akane more wrought with insanity than any other spell did.. but of course, shadow magery would take time and focus.. all of which akane had.. Now, he would have to get a meeting together with his remaining students, The Storm mage's relative Mhairi and Serenio.. they wished to gain to a higher circle, and Akane would teach them what they needed.. discipline, respect, and anything else they needed... already Mhairi had progressed rapidly in his many teachings.. and Serenio as well.. she could wield the ritualistic Japanese magery as good as himself.. they were both learning in that field.. Akane finished his watch around the hall, and returned back to his chambers, slipping off his clothes to be nude from the waist up, and sliding into bed with the sleeping form of Serenio.. -------------------------- Message 335 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 14 16:29:30 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) A cool breeze swept across the beach as Jaelene sat there mulling over how things seemed to have turned out. Harrison, she knew, was just a way to punish herself and hurt Toraxyn, but was it really worth it. The answer was 'No' but when would she realize and admit the truth to herself. Jaelene grabbed her journal out of her pouch and read over all the entries, from love, to hate, to death, and life, she had experienced it all, but held nothing close to her. Her talk with Toraxyn seemed to have done nothing for her but make her feel poignant pain again. Thinking of him and his unborn child she began to write.... Sometimes when the world looks grey When nothing ever goes your way Just turn around and you will see The love I give to you from me And sometimes when the world is blue You don't quite know what to do Just close your eyes and I'll be there Showing you how much I care And there are times the world is black One step forward is three steps back You try to change with all your might But dreams are fading out of sight That's the time the world is clear There's nothing that you need to fear So look into the sky above Take my hand, take my love... Jaelene swiped at a solitary tear falling down her cheek. Softly she whispered, "You make me whole." Her words were carried away on the soft breeze quickly as though never spoken. Jaelene sighed as she stood up from the sandy shores of Jizo beach. "Why do things need to be so complicated?" Jaelene knew she was done pretending with Harrison. Although Jae felt a bit of a loss as she began to pick herself up. -------------------------- Message 336 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 15 01:28:23 1997 EDT From: Ylise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: The bond is broken. Ylise felt the world spin in circles as her eyes closed. She knew she was in someones arms, but who and why she did not know. She just kept murmuring, her mind no longer whole ... no longer her own. It seemed to fill with a strange emptyness, a silenc e broken only by a ear peircing scream. Her own scream. The conciousness slipped away from her, though in ways her dreams reamained in her sight. She was dreaming lucidly, pulling together the thoughts that had happened, that were too much to bear in waking conciousness. A dragon made its decemated face present before her. The eyes were a firey red, smoke billowing from its great nostril. She saw it before her, rotting flesh seeming to tear off like a burning ember of flames. It began to reveal itself as mere bones... the eyes glowing brightly. It spoke to her in subliant tones, still draconic in speak.. |Ylise... why did you do this... why did you wish my death.. You were WORTHY.| Ylise felt her body try to move back, slipping from awareness. She could no longer tell if it was dream she felt or not. She tried to speak in the dream, her mouth held instead by an invisible muzzle, preventing word from escaping her lips. Her eyes drawn to the firey glow of the rotting dragon's gaze. She shook her head, the only action available to her scared person. The dragon spoke again, this time in the tone of the human, "WHY did you do this to ME! Why did you hide your plans from our bond!" Ylise screamed silently, her fingertips moving instinctively down her side, as if to grab for her sword. She felt the blank air and nothing more. Her eyes however did not move from the place of the dragon and she watched as it bellowed a loud chuckle, its head rearing back like a snake to strike. Its great sucking of air, seemed to pull her, and again she tried to feel for a weapon. She felt nothing, and looked down, averting her eyes for a moment from the monolith that stood before her. Her eyes gazed with fright. In place of her form stood naked decaying bones... HEr skin wasting, just like the dragon's.. Ylise had no time to scream as the beast moved its great head over her own. The room spun and she felt a chilling fright run through....The fright of death. Ylise woke up with a scream. -------------------------- Message 337 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 15 18:14:07 1997 EDT From: Ariana (#19666) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Memories and Feelings Ari sat in the cave alone, as she held the laptop in her lap, slowly reading the message that Synge had typed to her so long ago, even now tears running down from her eyes as she remebered it, her eyes continuing to look at the words, "I love you Ariana" Her memories kept flashing back to the night of their argument, kept hearing her words, "I don't love you" She began to cry hard again, and said out loud, "I didn't mean it Synge. I don't know where it came from" She reached up, wiping away the tears as she made sure no one else had seen her crying even though she was alone. She closed the laptop and quickly put it into her backpack, pulling out the statue of Kzin that she had made, "And you Kzin, why have you not noticed my subtle hints, that I love you. I know that I can't tell you directly" She sighed and slipped the statue into her pocket, and again began to cry as she lied down on the ground, going back to sleep. -------------------------- Message 338 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 15 20:15:06 1997 EDT From: Rezryk (#20168) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hunter's Creed ' Silence. It was Rezryk's favourite thing. There was a comfort, in knowing that nobody knew you were there. To know that the only threat you'd face would come from your front. It was a comfort which sat with him as he methodically tracked the signs of a large stag that had clearly passed this way. Rezryk raised his head as he sniffed the air for a moment. The scent of the stag's passage lingered in the air, imperceptible to most, but not to one with Rezryk's keen sense of smell. Rezryk paused suddenly as he caught wind of a second scent....one which Rezryk recognized all too well. It was a scent he had become all to accustomed to as a slave in a Uranium mine. The unmistakable scent of metal lingered in the air, mixed with the cloying aroma of the black powder some of the man-things used in their weapons. A new sense of urgency and fear arose within him as he increased his pace and moved northwards through the forest the man-things had dubbed Drach'nal. ' He found the stag's corpse lying near a small brook. Its once magnificent crown sawed off from its skull. Rezryk's claws tore eagerly into its flesh as he sank his jaws into the corpse's hindquarters. The taste almost made Rezryk vomit as the cold, condensed blood of the carcass made its way down his throat. Rezryk spat in disgust as he noted the size of the stag. Such a waste of food would have been frowned upon in the mines. Whoever did this, had no sense of pack, decided Rezryk. A loud gunshot echoed suddenly to the north, snapping Rezryk out of his contemplation of the carcass. Rezryk sprinted northwards, attempting to track the sound to its source. (continued in Hunters' Creed Part II) -------------------------- Message 339 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 15 20:34:48 1997 EDT From: Rezryk (#20168) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Hunter's Creed Part II ' Rezryk moved quickly, following the sound northwards until he came to a spot where the forest began to thin out into the form of a grassy meadow. It was here, that Rezryk found the man-thing with the powder weapon crouched over the corpse of a deer. Undoubtedly one of the mates in the stag's breeding group. A barely contained snarl emerged from Rezryk's lips as he watched the man thing remove some sort of cutting device from his pack to remove the deer's head. ' Rezryk's mind swirled in rage as he watched the blood drain slowly from the deer. If there was one thing that Rezryk deplored, it was waste, and to see it committed by a man-thing, made it that much worse. Crouching low, Rezryk moved towards the man thing through the grass allowing his paws to work their way carefully through the tall growth. The man's tool sheered into the neckbone of the corpse with a loud whine, sending a spray of blood high into the air. The sight of blood set Rezryk's mind on fire both with rage, and with hunger as he set himself into a deep crouch. ' The man didn't have time to react as Rezryk exploded forth from the grass in a flurry of sudden movement. Leaping a good 6 ft forwards, Rez slammed into the man with the entirety of his weight as he locked his powerful jaws around the man's neck and clamped down as tightly as he could. A spray of blood erupted from the man's neck as he tried to issue a scream and thrash ineffectually against, Rezryk's hold. Rez's claws flashed forwards and around the man's stomach in a frenzy of ripping and tearing as he shredded the man's abdomen open, sending his guts and entrails spilling to the already reddened ground of the meadow. As the man, began to lose strength and shudder in his death throes, Rez yanked his jaws sideways causing the man's neckbone to issue a loud *SNAP*. ' Rezryk growled in appreciable satisfaction as he tore into the man's thighs hungrily and ripped out whole chunks of his warm, bloodied flesh. The feel of fresh, warm blood gushing over his lips almost made him giddy as he feasted, occasionally taking a bite from the deer's corpse as well. In truth, he could not remember having feasted so well....perhaps his newfound freedom might provide some measure of satisfaction after all. -------------------------- Message 340 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 15 20:58:58 1997 EDT From: Synge (#12541) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Synge sat huddled over the mainframe of the Tech Order's network, pecking away at the keys It was so easy to forget everything while rolls and rolls of text flowed down the screen of the large computer, technical schematics, and various hidden files. some pictures came up, and he tapped some keys, transferring them to another screen so he could nove onto the hard parts of the computer. a small progress indicator turned from red to green, and the files were showed on another screen. He ignored the pictures for now.. getting ready for the real difficult part of his task. "computer, shut down security grids for sections A through D.." *The outside security cameras and the main core protection.. lets pray this works..*.. and a faint crackle was heard, "alright.. computer, run Viral test F... full strength." The computer beeped a few times, "Acknowledged.. simulation in progress.." and a whir is heard.. Synge sighs, "sure.. why not." and taps a few keys.. a large map appearing, with a small flashing red box. "Computer, open File A1407.. display pictorial interface.." The file opened.. and his jaw dropped.. clear as day.. Ariana's picture popped on the screen. "Oh lord.." he sighed, glancing away at the picture, "why does she have to haunt me.. clearly she hated me back there.. and she's with that ugly wolf.." he taps a few keys, "dammit.. Computer, antivirus this and throw this in the outbox." he sighed deeply, watching the screen change. and he says again, "computer, reactivate grid and shut down main server for tonight., backups on hold." Synge slammed the door of his office, flopping into a chair, and drinking some whiskey, "why.. why does she torture me so?" and mumbles incoherantly, falling into a drunken sleep. -------------------------- Message 341 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu May 15 21:43:42 1997 EDT From: Mulder (#709) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Clean Up Operations - IC - The wasteland sun slowly dipped below the horizon, the sky still burning like molten red fire. The expedition vehicles sat ringed in a defensive circle, about five hundred yards from the remains of the twisted wreckage of a transport shuttle. Mulder stared across the sand at the dark hulk, arms crossed, a grimace on his face. "I don't like this, Eric. This shouldn't have happened. I thought you said the system was _secure_." Eric winced and gazed at the fuselage of burnt and twisted metal, "It should have been. I also thought we'd been through this all before." He fingered the small black box which rested in his hands, a large covered button recessed in the surface. Mulder noded slowly, "Yes, but I'll still be relieved once it's taken careof. You're sure the new system won't have these... problems?" "Yes, we're sure," Eric said, a desert-fatigue clad lackey running up and giving him the thumbs-up sign. "Ok, it's ready," he said, handing the box to Mulder. "Bout damn time," Mulder growled, flipping the cover and punching the button. The ground rippled and twisted, a sound like the screaming souls of hell rising from the sands as the ground around the wreckage glowed red, white, and yellow, melting into a circular pool of glass, before slowly sinking into the sands. "Lets get back to the hub before the Slissshes come out. I don't want to loose any more people on this operation," Mulder said, slowly walking back to his jeep. - OOC - The ship is gone, but radiation suits will soon be available from the clothing replicator in the OOC Water Lounge. I needed the quota. -------------------------- Message 342 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 17 00:14:16 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *DragonRiders (#5915) and *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Death and coldness Ylise crept out of the tent that Nigel and she had fled to . The nightmares would not leave her ... four days she had not slept, the same presence of the bones becoming her bones. Something she could not control for once in her life. IT scared her to no end. A shudder ran through her as she stood on the helipad now, crept free from her sleeping husband. The part of her had left already, the familiar sound of another was no longer there. Nothing invaded her anymore ... something had come over the soul itself. It frightened her as coldness remained. Lise screamed, unable to control what was happening to her. She could control nothing. Truly, Stryfe was right in his begining. Truly this was a horror she had never experienced. And she wished at this point that she could make it go away. -------------------------- Message 343 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 17 04:19:58 1997 EDT From: Mulder (#709) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Wedding Announcements This went out over the ShadowFax newswires around midnight... While love may be in the air in spring, it sometimes doesn't mature until the fall. With this in mind, we are pleased to announce the marrage of EndoCorp's President, the publicity-shy Mulder, and Cristal of the family Mystique. The recent widowment of Miss. Cristal has opened the door for their whirlwind engagement, and the two plan to be married in twelve days. The happy couple extends an open invitation for everyone to join them at the Toosay ceremony. When questioned about the timing of the engagement, Mulder was quoted as saying, "I've known Cristal for several years now, and we've been close friends. I've even leased her a building here on Toosay, and I felt it was time to move our relationship from a close friendship to something more... intimate." The couple plans to wed in a simple ceremony, and then take up residence in Mulders sizeable estate outside of Toosay. The wedding will be a formal affair, with a fairy tail twist. "I've always wanted to be Cinderella," Cristal said. What this means to Mulders involvement in EndoCorp remains unclear, however he has stated that taking care of his new family will be his highest priority. EndoCorp is a manufacturer and maintainer of large-scale transportation and development applications, as well as high technology implimentation and distribution. EndoCorp was founded in 2597, and remains one of the most profitable global corporations, maintaining an international transportation infrastructure for various megacorporations, as well as public use. EndoCorp information can be obtained from the sales bot at 220.310.40 on EarthNet. * OOC * The wedding's scheduled for Tuesday, the 20'th, around (or perhaps a bit before) midnight, central time. (Updates to follow, if need be.) All are invited, and directions will be posted later. (I've gotta build the friggin chapel first.) Kidnappers and party crashers will be impaled. -------------------------- Message 344 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat May 17 15:13:53 1997 EDT From: Ynaoise (#11886) To: *Storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: Saying goodbye... Time passes, and we all are consigned to dust, changing as does the stars in the sky change. They left the Sarkus, 5 riders, 4 dragons and a friend... They went to bring home a lost friend. They arrived on the roof of the R/T, all moved by the corpse that lay there. They set to work, Ynaoise supervising, his experience in such things needed. They made quick work of the gory task, and soon had the corpse home. The fire blazed that night, hot and consuming... It carried him to his home, among the stars so bright... Hearken children, and look to the skies... That new star is a dragon at rest... At home... -------------------------- Message 345 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 19 18:19:38 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Facing revenge... Lise faced before the mighty dragon with little care. What was left for her to believe? She had killed off Thyvoras'rath, not by her own hand, but still she was aiding in his death. It was only time when somehow the foolish riders would find out that it was not an accident. The dragon stood before her, its words still familiar but fading. It sought retribution for its son's death... she should pay... Yes.. Strange how she cared not. The others around her, the other humans were fuming in rage. It was humorous to watch. When the firey incineration of the dragon's breath touched her skin, she closed her eyes. Death would come amidst the heat. Death would come and take her from this acursed place. The torrental heat seared her skin and she could only look at the massive beast that took her life. There would be more. There would be more of this, more pain more struggle. For once she didn't care. She wanted all the rest to be gone. She wanted to face life again on her own. When Lise woke up, she was in the small tent. Her instant thought was to get up -- leave. Her body seemed to still smell of the burnt flesh. She could still see the sight of the mighty dragon over her... destroying her. It would happen again. She needed a refuge away from all of this. She needed to find a place past the struggles. Her sanity depended on it... whatever was left of it. -------------------------- Message 346 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 19 18:59:08 1997 EDT From: Lise (#14877) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: GRUMBLE FUck... that last was retconned. Some people decide to do things without me... Love this.. love it a whole fucking bunch... -------------------------- Message 347 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon May 19 21:35:49 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: The Wolf pack test SOmewhere on this moo is a box with a wolf medallion in it. I've obviously hidden it somewhere. If anyone finds it, uhm cool but here's a little ic note for all you strange bastards who don't walk on four legs and don't have fur. If your not a wolf recomb you won't be able to open the box ICly so I appreciate it if you would leave the box's contents in the box. Thank You. DL> -------------------------- Message 348 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Tue May 20 14:49:33 1997 EDT From: Duke (#20175) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Life Duke smiled in delight as he looked around his small hideout. "Everything is going well, so far life is good in this part of the world." he said to himself. "Now all I need is 2 things. 1st thing I need a job that I can work for someone, be their bodyguard, grunt or whatever they need preferably a women but a man i guess will do. I need a strong master, who is more into the evil than the good." "2nd is I need a real job for real pay. So i need to contact someone from Dakiron Industries." he said as he smiled to himself. OOC- Basically this is too say 2 things. 1st of all m y character is going to be rping alot. 2nd of all im looking for someone who wants to own me in a way. They will not own me but will be my master. I'll obey every one of their commands. But this person has to be evil and rather tough. So if you want to have someone pull chores and such for you im your guy. Send me mail on that. Also if someone from dakiron can send me a note i need to talk to them about something. Or if anyone knows who i can talk to about it can you also send me a note. Thanks! Bye -------------------------- Message 349 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 21 15:59:21 1997 EDT From: Jaelene (#20187) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A will to live.. or die. Jaelene made the deal with Dauthi. He would teach her how to find pleasure without love and think only of herself, while she would attempt to teach him how to love completely. The time frame for the deal was three weeks and Dauthi would try first. At the end of the first week Dauthi had enticed Jaelene with romantic french cuisine and candle light and excellent wine. He relaxed her body with the expert touch of his fingers along her tense muscles. The heady aroma from the candles and the alcohol in the wine sent Jaelene to sleep, but not before she was left with the linger doubts of what is 'true love'. Sitting in the lounge Dauthi looked Jaelene over. Sensing that she was ripe, he came up with another plan, a game really. He would make Jaelene realize that love was just a figment of her imagination. Dauthi blindfolded Jaelene and took her to a dark cavern. Dauthi says, "Jaelene we are going to play a game, a game of illusions. You are not allowed to speak. You can nod your head yes, or shake it no, but if you talk, the illusion will be broken." Jaelene quietly nodded to him. Before taking off Jaelen's blindfold, Dauthi brought her hands to his face telling her to feel him. When he took off her blindfold, before Jaelene was Toraxyn. **RATED R** Toraxyn pulled Jaelene to him touching her body as though starving for it. Pulling her into a deep kiss, Jaelene melted against him. The love she felt for him flowing through her body as she forgot that Dauthi was even around. Gently Toraxyn took off her shirt and looked at her. He asked, "Do you want me to continued." Remembering she couldn't talk, Jaelene simply nodded her head before pressing her lips against his. The pain and heartache Toraxyn caused her stripped from her body as easily as her clothing, discarded without a thought. Toraxyn made love to Jaelene without abandon. Always asking, "Do you want me to continue?" To which Jaelene repeatedly nodded her head. Later in the lounge Jaelene saw Dauthi, and he asked her if she liked his game. Jaelene said with a smile in her voice, "Yes, thank you." Grinning to himself Dauthi looked at Jaelene, "you realize Toraxyn was never there." Outraged she cried, "What do you mean?" Dauthi just smiled, "I told you Jaelene, it was an illusion." Jaelene slapped Dauthi across the face. "Jaelene are you going to tell me you didn't find pleasure?" he asked the smirk growing bigger upon his face. Jaelene knowing she did but not wanting to admit it fumed inside. Dauthi decided to lay out the final blow, "I sensed you were ripe earlier Jaelene, and now you are pregnant." The color ran out of Jaelene's face with this announcement. She blinked at him in disbelief and went to slap him again only to be stopped short as he grabbed her hand. "You will rid me of this child Dauthi. I refuse to bring a child up without love. I won't let someone live their life the way I have." she screamed at him. Dauthi raised his hands and sent the winds swirling around Jaelene's body battering her over and over. Taking his knife he gutted her successfully expelling the fetus from her body. Though going to far he sent Jaelene to the eagle. Her will to live fading as the love in her heart grows weaker. Dauthi carried her to a shelter next to the spot she slew Toraxyn. Gently he layed her on the cot and left her. **Note for anyone confused.. Toraxyn was never there.. it was always Dauthi using illusions to make Jae think Toraxyn was the one with her.** -------------------------- Message 350 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 21 16:32:53 1997 EDT From: Mirage (#20202) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Mirage relaxed in the cockpit of the bear, yawning to himself It had been days since he really had sleep.. constant modifications made by him were being added to his mech.. a new holographic tracking system, some more heat sinks.. All things that needed adding were added. He sipped some beer, attaching a few small pictures near the console of the Mech on the inside, one of him and his sister Jasper when they were young, another, of him and Jasper when they were older.. fairly recent picture.. the other two, one was of Buffy, who looked cute in her outfit in the picture... she had asked to add some more time to the slave ordeal, he couldn't refuse.. he smiled faintly, sipping some more beer, and glancing at the last picture.. a quick snapshot one of the cameras around the hangars of the clans.. damned she looked sweet even in the quick camera shot.. he drank some more beer, and accidently shifted a lever on the bear's control panel, the bear began to move forward, but only slightly since he was in contact with the controls shortly, but Mirage was tossed from his seat, his head bumping the cockpit floor.. he swore profoundly, and looked up, his eyes seeming to meet with those of Buffy, "damnit.. a merely trick o' the eye.." and got up, sitting back inside the cockpit seat, "today will be a nice day it seems.." he tapped a few keys on the mech's console, and an active display showed up, showing the status of each system, and their function.. he grinned to himself, gripping the control rods and letting the immense jointed "fingers" of the mech flex, he laughed, "indeed a fine day." and he drank some more beer, sighing contentedly to himself, "maybe Buffy will gimme a call later on or something.. -------------------------- Message 351 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed May 21 16:36:39 1997 EDT From: Olalla (#20234) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sponges : Sadists or Pavlov wannabes..? Olalla grunted slightly.. "Fucking Sponge... When I get out of here, that one is going to taste some serious pain". She chuckled slightly. Her neck cricked, from the inability to move. "Ah hell, I'll die anyway" she mused to herself. "If the starvation don't, the boredom will. These sponges really need to understand how it is you torture someone... " Olalla looked up at the ceiling. She had laughed at the mage's attempts to break her will. It was stupid really. She had seen it before, been through it before. Just who did the Sponge think he was dealing with? A rookie? Olalla yawned, her body aching with a dull pain. She focused her attentions on the ceiling tiles above her. "One, two, three, four....." She knew she'd be able to count them all. Something to pass the time at least. -------------------------- Message 352 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri May 23 17:33:31 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Akane sat in the guest room of the hall, inside a crudely made circle of crystals, looking down at his dagger thoughtfully, "One strike upon the thigh was all it took to make her my slave.." he grinned, the candles casting an eerie glow on his face.. he coughed once, wiping at his mouth, looking down as he saw blood against his tan flesh, "oh damn.." he mutters, spitting the blood against the obsidian floor.. The night was young, his body seemed younger, more refreshed than usual.. Olalla proved to be a tough challenge, she would not break easily, then again, Akane didn't have much experience in such things, but first time was a charm it seemed.. the mark he made upon her outer thigh appearing in his mind, not like the one he gave Serenio.. no, this one was a brand of sorts, not a mark of undying love.. He drove the dagger into the soft flesh of his forearm, wincing slightly at the pain.. letting the blood drip into a small bowl at his feet, he growled in defiance as the blood loss made him close to losing conciousness, so he quickly yet numbingly patched up the wound, chuckling.. "well.. so much for pain tolerance eh Akane?" he snickered lightly to himself, placing some herbs and a small flask of clear liquid into the bowl, the blood turning into a clear substance. He quickly closed the lid on the bowl, picking it up and taking it into his chambers, placing it on the windowsill, and sitting on the bed, comtemplating as he danced a ball of light across his fingertips. Olalla was now his slave, after a week of small magical torturing and even allowing the harmless Giewual, a multicolored bird, to befriend her.. she finally broke after claiming "terrasickness.." which was fine with him.. all would unfold in due time.. He grinned silently, stripping to his pants and boxers, and lay beside Serenio, snuggling against her sleeping form, his eyes blazing calmly with energy... soon all would unfold. --------------------------