Message 1 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 6 19:33:00 1997 EDT From: Daniel (#20210) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: RETCONN: stuff related to Brinn & Daniel Please retcon all my actions regarding Brinn since she disapeared, all marks of affections and stuff. Also retconn me returning to the mount with her, the discussion with Yjezra, Yeullan, Yokuni and Rand that happened since the return. Brinn returned to the mount but without Dan. Thanks. Daniel -------------------------- Message 2 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Aug 8 09:33:31 1997 EDT From: Melantha (#16526) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Morning Smiles... Melantha blinked her eyes several times as the morning sunlight streamed in through the window, lazily slinking across the bed she shared with Bryon. He remained asleep, the sun's rays not yet having touched his face. She smiled at him a moment before getting up. The heaves took her over again as she stood and she raced for the bathroom, praying to Gaia her stomach would empty quickly and end the pain. This problem had been bothering her for nearly a month now, and it puzzled her immensely. What kind of illness would settle in like that and refuse to cure itself, no matter what remedy she created... -------------------------- Message 3 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Aug 8 15:18:55 1997 EDT From: Stefan (#17377) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Women A sign in the lounge reads: WANTED: Women, of all sizes, shapes and colours. Bar opening so need showgirls, and working girls. Contact Stefan ASAP -------------------------- Message 4 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 10 01:45:46 1997 EDT From: Akane (#14270) To: *Storylines (#5236) Akane glanced around druggedly in the steel room. He doesn't know where he is. He reaches to cover his mouth while he yawns, but feels some resistance, he glances up to see leather straps on each wrist, "heh.." he mumbles, "Guess this ain't my week." -------------------------- Message 5 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 10 04:12:13 1997 EDT From: Clayson (#17237) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: wantads For trade or sale: One shotgun and 53 shells, looking for a pole axe. Contact me by comm. Mona Clayson -------------------------- Message 6 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 10 15:39:30 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Registration (Message tacked to the bulletin board in Drach'nal, as well as to the door of every residence) Attention, Citizens of Drach'Nal: Adept Rathe has decided it nessescary for all current residents of Drach'nal to register as such, leaving notes in the box provided next to his lordship's residence in southern Drach'Nal. Residents are further required to register any guests who will be staying for a period longer than twenty-four hours. Any travellers or visitors may apply with Rathe, via communicator or mail, for a one-week visitation pass. Registration allows for your benevolent dictator to make sure that any unsavory individuals will not take residence in our beatiful town, preventing unsavory groups such as mercenaries, thieves, et cetera. Rathe is looking out for _your_ safety, citizens. Those residents who fail to register will be evicted. Any unregistered travellers will be jailed, thier belongings conviscated. Unregistered guests will suffer the penalty of death, and thier hosts reasons for allowing said guest to go unregistered will be questioned. If you cannot write, Rathe's student, Kali, will transcribe your registration. Contact her via communicator for further information. Thank you for your cooperation. (Intricate Sigil) Rathe, Adept of the Second Circle -------------------------- Message 7 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 13 08:29:18 1997 EDT From: Barak (#20417) To: *Storylines (#5236) Barak slowly surveyed the scene, gripping his broadsword loosely in one hand. Walking over to a door of one of the local residences, he pulls off a sign and reads it; with a mild look of disgust he lets it drop into the muddy ground. He mutters to himself, "This Rathe threatens to destroy the balance of this place." Deliberately stamping on the parchment, he makes his way through the small village. People eye him suspiciously as he walks through the streets, strangers are probably not real welcome in these times, he thought to himself as he picked up his pace. Ahead of him was the charred ruins of an inn, Barak shook his head, wondering if this magician had anything to do with this as well. His wanderers sense of danger perked suddenly, as he clutched his sword a little tighter, straining to hear, he picked up the sound of a small child, . Moving quickly towards the sound, he came upon an old rundown barn, entering carefully, the child's cries grew louder. The wanderer looked in the corner, spotting the child, who was pinned to the floor by a part of the loft that had fallen. Rushing over, Barak picked up the debris, freeing the child. He closed his eyes a moment, muttering a few words and gesturing with his free hand. The cuts and bruises on the child closed, leaving only faint reminders of where they used to be. Nodding to the child, and noting his rather meager condition, Barak asked, "Where are your parents boy?" The child said nothing, but pointed back ttoward the burnt out husk of the inn, then ran off. Barak entered the ship, conceding that he had seen enough for the day, but his mind was still awash with though. "I must find someone to help restore things." he vowed, as he watched the ocean go by. -------------------------- Message 8 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 13 12:02:49 1997 EDT From: Heretic (#6143) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Rumor running around the R/T High stakes poker game 10k to join ..save your crystals..winner take all. OOC tottaly ic event ..will happen when I get a deck of cards together .probably before monday. H -------------------------- Message 9 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 13 12:32:43 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Decisions Darius Lee growled angrily as she paced restlessly across the cliff top. The sky was clear and cloudless and the full moon gleamed brightly in the sky but Darius didn't notice, her mind was consumed with the delima inside her. Her ultimate loyalty must be to the pack and to Gai, but her heart was weakening to death's own minions. ' Darius lee snarled low, her clawss ripping up the defenseless dirt under them, one day soon she must chose, but she had no choice. Her eyes glowed with fury at her predicament as she pounced on a happiless creature that foolishly chose to leave its nest, ripping it to shreds in seconds. Darius Lee threw her head back in uncontrolled fury and howled out her agony to the sky, her jaws dripping blood as she screamed defiantly, "I AM DARIUS LEE ALPHA FEMALE OF THE PACK, DAUGHTER OF MOONHEART. I DOMINATE THE PACK AND I WILL DOMINATE HIM!!" It was one way to cope, it was the only way. Darius turned and leapt off the cliff to plunge into the ocean, she surfaced with a gasping breath as she paddled her way to shore, pretending the clawing fingers toying at the edges of her mind wasn't madness but only exhuastion combined with fury. -------------------------- Message 10 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 13 20:07:01 1997 EDT From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A startling new development... She walked up to the crest of the hill, and prepared to stretch out along the stones to stare at the stars until sleep claimed her. Over the years, she had seen them from every angle, and had named each, using them to follow herself and track the world, all the while reminding herself how insignificant she was, had been, and probably always would be. She had never bothered to learn their real names, figuring they would never bother to return the favor if she had. They talked to her more when she tried to sleep. She sometimes wondered if she would ever pass a night in pure, blessed silence. Long since abandoned resenting the noise that swelled inside her head, she welcomed it as a lullaby. Their voices droned on, as they always did, but sleep failed to come to her. Of all the people in the world who would have taken any notice of her, the one that had had come as something of a surprise. It seemed as if he would leave her be when she needed what passed for quiet, which suprised her. Even they said that it was her best course to listen, learn, and watch, and they almost never agreed with anything she wanted to do. There was finally someone else who believed she wasn't as mad as a hatter, and she wasn't sure how much she trusted that. She simply knew it was the best chance, if not a better chance, than she ever could have hoped to get. It was a chance worth taking, so she trusted him. The thought crept up in her like nausea, memories of what she might have been, or would have been had she been what some had wanted. She probably never would have met him then, and she found that ironic. Her lips twisted into a smile, and she chuckled flatly into the chill wind on the hillside. "The pretty porcelain doll, all pink and ruffles... " she whispered to them. None of them responded, since they had little care for her reverie. "Yeah... way to go, Anne.. " she muttered to herself as they grew almost silent around her, leaving her to her mood, "...get all morbid just when things are looking up." She laughed to herself, no humor touching the sound, and sat up on the stone to meet the sunrise. -------------------------- Message 11 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Aug 13 22:33:37 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: If everybody's dead, where'd they hide the corpses? Sliding onto a stool, Rathe surveyed the near empty Espada. No women, no gullible idiots selling their souls, but no people, either. He waved a match under Sanchez's nose for several moments, but after getting no response, decided he'd wait for some victi--people to chat with... (The moral of this story? GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF THE R/T, WARD FREAK MAGGOTS! TO THE TINDER BOX! -------------------------- Message 12 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 14 14:13:10 1997 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *Storylines (#5236) It was something she'd always hoped for.. waking to the sounds of her infant child murmuring and cooing in his crib, the scent of dragon, and the warmth of her husband beside her. She stretched and smiled to herself, carefully rising to as not to wake Yshar. As she fed Rowan, and thought about the fact that in mere days he was be 3 months old, her DragonFriend stretched and yawned.. blinking his great blue eyes. The inner exchange was typically wordless, images and feelings floating freely between them. Ylaerin gently set her son in his crib, and slipped out the door with Luthe close behind, still buttoning her vest. She'd not been out much, and this had gone on several months. There was too much to worry over downland, and the once or twice she'd been down, she'd seen how hostile things could be. It only added to the confusion she'd gotten so deft at pushing down inside of her... and Luthe agreed that until it seemed like everything was on an even keel, the both of them should not try to deal with the trickier issues. Strafe was back to himself, but she still was afraid to even mention Tyzrath - it was probably just a foolish superstition, but she didn't want to risk hurting Shar or keeping tyz from his rest. The security of the great stone walls around her, of her husband's arms and her son's now-familiar cooing, of everything being 'normal' again was far too comfortable to be disturbed by thoughts of 'Lord' Rathe's latest endeavors. She was a-dragonback as swiftly as she could be, her motions linked to Luthe's in ways that most people never got to experience.. His plunge off the cliff never failed to make her laugh, the tickling of her stomach dropping and the wind streaming her hair out behind her. She urged his to go as fast as he could manage, to plunge and wheel and dive as much as he could without jostling her loose. The wind and the green rocketing by her, beneath her, was enough to batter silly thoughts and fears - deeper thoughts and fears - out of her mind. Her teachers, even her freinds, would not recommend this course if they knew about it... merely because one does not think on something does not make it go away. But for now, only she and her Sapphire knew.. and the two of them would work it out or avoid it as they would. Luthe rumbled in response, and she let the thoughts drop away from her.. concentrating on wind and affection, and the sensation of Luthe's great wings carrying her away from her troubles. -------------------------- Message 13 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 14 15:39:22 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Darius Lee growled in angry fury as she raced along the wastes, her paws sending sand flying high into the air behind her, trying to escape the voices in her head. Over and over she saw Blight's sneering face laughing at her telling her that she was "more human than wolf", Demonwolf's accusitory face telling her asking her "You spend too much time with humans, why?", and ENtropy's confused face as her tormented heart bled infront of him. Darius muttered as she ran, "I am wolf! I am only wolf! The pack is supreme, held above all" Darius Lee skidded to a halt atop of a sand dune, the wind ripping by digging sand into her torn flesh. She turned her head to look back at the r/t building, where a face and welcoming arms awaited her-- if she was human. She stood there for several moments, her chest heaving with exertion, as she lookeout into the wastes towards the wolves and the caverns and the ancient ones, to the pack. She stood there for hours-minutes wrestling with the voices, the faces, the love, her loyalty and her honor. And in the end there was only one choice... Growling softly Darius lee turned and loped away, towards her choice and her destiny. -------------------------- Message 14 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 14 20:01:40 1997 EDT From: Lykaj (#6068) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Its good to be the king. Lykaj slumped down slowly in his chair, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. "This is more complicated than I thought." With a loud grumble he yells to the servents to bring him more coffee. The only reply bieng silence. With another softer grumble, he remembers all the servents are gone. "Since ShadowGaurd lost power, its a freakin mess around here. Gotta do it all myself. Damn it all." With a few curses he forces himself out of the chair and slowly makes his way to the kitchen. His footsteps echoing loudly in the silent castle. "And now I'm supposed to clean up Stryfes house too. Shit." "Though this could be intresting. Not like the rewards wont be bad." He chuckles out, "Perhaps It's time to see what the Order can really do." With a new found grin on his lips and plans forming in his head, Lykaj wanders down the great halls. "Oya..this could be fun." -------------------------- Message 15 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Aug 15 14:03:36 1997 EDT From: Heretic (#6143) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Poker game tonight 9 eastern Will hold it at the desert rat ...bring all your crystals ..when your out of cash your out of the game...please keep ooc comments to a minimum. H -------------------------- Message 16 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Aug 15 18:12:38 1997 EDT From: Heretic (#6143) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Poker game is still on for tonight ..but due to the fact that most of you are broke anyone can play until they are out of funds.....oh yes someone asked if they could wager clothing I said that was up to the other players... H -------------------------- Message 17 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Aug 16 18:06:57 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: note tacked to the wall in the real/time lounge For sale automatic weapons, shotguns, and handguns.. Contact Rathe for further info -------------------------- Message 18 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 17 00:46:34 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Sighting Rumor has it the artist formerly known as Yalon has returned to real/time, spending most of his time on the R/T Roof, watching the skies. -------------------------- Message 19 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 17 17:19:17 1997 EDT From: Kynwal (#1610) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: A poster Looking for female dancers, style is of no issue. Please contact Lord Stryfe if interested. *Posed or trigger dances are fine* A 1000 crystals purse will be offered to all who are accepted. -------------------------- Message 20 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 17 19:02:41 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: plans... Kaitlyn paced around her room wondering why she hadn't seen Rand for a while. "Where could he be?" She sat down on her bed and knew something must be wrong. Kaitlyn strolled along the wasteland making her way to the R/T building when she saw a poster with Stryfe's name on it. Kaitlyn smiled as she stopped in the garage. Kaitlyn made her way to Wolf Moon Valley on the transport and came upon Rand. He took her back to the TreeHouse that he and Daniel had been building and fixing up. Rand explained to Kaitlyn all that had happened with him and the OOW. Kaitlyn smiled at Rand, "I know what to do. There was a poster where Stryfe is asking for dancers. I could do that Rand. I could dance and talk to him and make him leave you alone." Kaitlyn muttered softly, "I just need to learn how to dance." Daniel walked into the tree house and heard what Kaitlyn was up to. Daniel looked at Kaitlyn sternly, "Kaitlyn we don't want you to get into trouble, do us a favor and stay out of it." Kaitlyn just stiffened her back and waited for Daniel to leave. Kaitlyn turned back to Rand after Daniel left, "I'm not useless you know." Rand pulled Kaitlyn over next to him and lifted her chin up as he brushed his lips over hers, "No you aren't useless, but if you are going to dance for anyone you can dance for me." -------------------------- Message 21 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Aug 18 01:28:22 1997 EDT From: Seraph (#16551) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Another long, long night.. The sag in the matress was beginning to grate on her nerves. Waking up every morning with a stiff neck and sore shoulders wasn't something she fancied too terribly. -There was a time you would have been thankful for a bed...- they reminded, but shse did her best to put them out of mind. As it became increasingly difficult, she toned out their ramblings, turning up the music to a level that echoed off of the buildings in the courtyard outside. None of the neighbors complained. The dead didn't care. The wind from the cracked window sent strands of insence smoke drifting over her like crashing waves, and burned the sticks down to wooden nubs at a heady pace. She still heard them mumbling, but their words were lost in the swell of thet music, in the erratic heartbeat of bass and the jarring crashes of drums. She rolled onto her side for the hundredth time, and pulled the ratty crocheted blanket at the foot of the bed more tightly over her curled form, winding it around her like a shield against the night. She had always done so, burying herself beneath something, hiding her head from the dark, screwing her eyes shut so tightly at the thought of what some thought, but she knew, was waiting in the nighttime shadows. As long as she had known them, it was night that taunted her reason, and her acceptance of their place in her life. The time alone, time in quiet, had never quite been so, only in the thunder of noise had she found her silence. In the company of strangers, even people who had less care whether she lived or died than they did a fly on the bar, there was distraction. To be alone with them, in quiet. That was fear. The quiet was why she had found a way out, to find noise again, and to learn the world. There was hope in her that the world would take them away, or that they would find a more likely conduit for their love, hate, and useless words. When there was quiet, they treated her like she was one of them, since they had been with her so very long. Her arrogance faded at night, in the stillness and solitude, because so little remained then to remind her that they were not right in that. She ran her tongue over her teeth, reminding herself of the scar. They had stopped her from joining them then, and she had her cruel suspicions as to why. How they had moved then, throwing the iron bed against the plasteel door, pounding the walls with a strength that she failed yet to possess. She had been found, and stopped. They consumed the one who had bade her join them, casting him out of their circle. Only in dreams did she see him now, open arms and care not for anything in the world but her, and seeing that one way or another, she was free. Knowing their skill at bending her, she prayed her new teachings would afford her some measure of control beyond the facade, or they would use her until nothing remained but a wasted, burnt shell. She had never been able to build that place for herself inside her mind where they could not reach, and it was beginning to take its toll on her. For her? Nothing. The dead didn't care. -------------------------- Message 22 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Aug 21 10:22:11 1997 EDT From: Kaitlyn (#17739) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: forbidden dances.. or no.. Kaitlyn walked into the lounge and saw a man that went by the name of Naxos. He started questioning her about the beautiful staff she had won that gave off rainbow colors. He told her that the previous owner was dead and that having it in her possession made her a prime suspect. Kaitlyn just shrugged it off and told him, "Well I'm innocent so you've no right to question me I won it and it's mine." Stryfe walked into the lounge and heard Naxos laughing at Kaitlyn and telling her everything points to her not being innocent, and when he has proof he will be back. Kaitlyn turned to Stryfe, ignoring Naxos, and asked him about the poster she had seen up, the one asking for dancers. Stryfe smiled at her, "Yes Lady Kaitlyn, do you wish to audition?" Kaitlyn just gulped, "audition?" Kaitlyn thought to herself, wondering what to do then finally said, "sure when?" Stryfe and Kaitlyn left the lounge and he helped her up on Ellyw and from there took her to Uruken. Stryfe sat down in his throne and said, "Okay you can start." Kaitlyn just fidgeted in front of him and asked, "Can we talk first? I need to ask you about a friend of mine and what I can do to make things better for him." Stryfe looked at her, a smile playing on his lips, "I assume we are speaking of Rand." Kaitlyn nodded as Stryfe continued, "There is nothing you can do Kaitlyn, Rand has no honor he's a petulant boy that struck down an unarmed man. He can turn himself in and I'll go lenient on him or I can bring him in and things won't be so nice." Kaitlyn just sighed and whispered, "Then coming here was in vain wasn't it." Frowning at Kaitlyn, Styfe answered, "I am ashamed of you Kaitlyn, coming here under false pretenses." Kaitlyn just looked at him, "That isn't true. I came here because what was important to you and just didn't tell you about what was important to me." Shaking his head Stryfe said, "an ommission is still a lie." Kaitlyn whirled around and walked towards him, "Who are you to be ashamed of me. Because I care about a friend you look down at me. Well I'm sorry I wanted to help him." Stryfe stood up from his throne and said quietly, "Kaitlyn, I think you should go home." Stryfe got back up on Ellyw took Kaitlyn to the Keep. Stryfe landed Ellyw at the Keep and helped Kaitlyn down, her hands lingering on his shoulders as she looked at him. Stryfe brought his hands up to cup Kaitlyn's face as he kissed her softly. Then quickly he remounted Ellyw and left as Kaitlyn hurried out of the Keep to her home. She looked back, bringing her hand to her lips, fairly skipping the short distance DarkReach. Kaitlyn flung herself down on her bed and thought about what Stryfe had said, "If someone in the order vouched for Rand things would go better for him." She turned over on the bed and stared at the tapestry hanging from her wall, "The order.. hmmm." a smile playing on her lips as her eyes light up with thought. -------------------------- Message 23 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Aug 22 12:05:07 1997 EDT From: Fergus (#13530) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Birthday Fergus laid on his bunk, tired and exhausted. The days have been going well he recently became a squire of the dragonknight khyber, he found some nice weapons in the wastelands, and has had an enjoyable time. Time has been flying though. He could still remember his birthday last June 2nd when he turned 39, but now he is 40 the age of depression. Fergus sighed crawled out of the bunk into the guard stables, he wandered around Mount Uruken in a daze and ended up on the ledge, and gazed out into the open air. Fergus's life had been rough ever since he's been boring he was been getting teased for his big size, but now for the first time he has respect from some people. If only he could be united with a undead that would give him great respect... great respect indeed. -------------------------- Message 24 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Aug 23 01:33:40 1997 EDT From: Raelan (#20231) To: *Storylines (#5236) Raelan sat at the table, picking idly at his steak as his thoughts go back to the charming young lady, the fluidity of her motions, her smile, and her laughter. he shook his head, "You can not fall in love Raelan, or else you will never attain what you so desire.." he thought to himself, then he cried out, "No! I can and will love this young lady!" he took his plate of steak and stood from the table, heading into the dormitory, his thoughts trailing to the charming young lady.. -------------------------- Message 25 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Aug 23 02:36:42 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Figured I hadn't posted to TP in a while..... Rathe sneezed violently, waving a hand at the cloud of dust which had just enveloped him. The cause of this little cyclone cleared into view as the dust settled - an ancient tome, bound in midnight blue cloth. The pages were brittle, the writing faded. Still, the book would have been a valuable source of information. Had he been able to concentrate on the text, at least. Too many things to worry about, that was his problem. Rosa's return, the black stone Eldran had used to entrap him, the monitoring and control of Drach'Nal.. It was far, far too much to deal with. What he needed was some distraction.. Melira came to mind, and he groaned, forehead metting his stone desk squarely. Melira.. He had thought she might provide the nessescary distraction. He hadn't really been involved with anyone since Lyetra... But no. More worries. Gods of blood and war help him if he ended up caring about some bloody woman again. Bah, end up weakened like Lykaj, Red Fang.. Maybe he could put a nice compulsion geis on Melira.. Keep her in line. Keep a woman in line. He chortled. They probably had a natural magical immunity to that sort of thing. Dusty tome forgotten, Rathe rose and gestured briefly, his quarterstaff flying to his hand. Muttering to himself, he made his way downstairs, outside, and began to wander, mind drifting. More reports of strangers in the village these days, tension was in the air. He was well fortified, of course. Always ready for any attacks.. But perhaps it would not hurt to develop a small army. He could take any group of individuals on his own, of course... but it wouldn't hurt. For caution's sake. Blinking, Rathe glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The pub, which Mercury wanted to buy. Rathe actually grinned. If Merc came up with the money, it would be..amusing to see the villager's reactions.. "Recomb sheep whore," Rathe chuckled to himself, drawing a few odd glances from the patrons at the other tables. Rathe glanced up, and waved Gus over. "Ale." he stated, all-but snatching the mug from Gus's hand when he returned with it. Tossing the bartender a few odd crystals, Rathe proceeded to get very, very drunk. -------------------------- Message 26 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 24 14:26:42 1997 EDT From: Darius_Lee (#10280) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Prison Rosa Leigh sighed and leaned against the dank wall of her cell, her child illusion shattered by the warded cell. "Well curiosity killed the cat,or the cambion" she laughed hoarsely to herself. No longer would she be content to wander in childhood innocence. Rosa Leigh suddenly screamed at the door, "WHEN I GET OUT OF THIS DAMN CELL RED FANG I'M GOING TO FRY YOUR ASS TO HELL AND BACK!". And in that moment Rosa Leigh made a vow. Whenever she escaped she would study the dark arts more intently than anyone before, and when her power was strong she would return and torture Red Fang, his family, his soil, anything that bore his touch till the fires of hell claimed them all. -------------------------- Message 27 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Aug 24 14:47:44 1997 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Judgement day The air flickered over a sand dune, the wasteland dust swirling and taking on human form for mere moments. As quickly as it appeared, the aparition vanished. Visible only to the eyes of the unliving or the immortal, a black-clad figure crouched atop the shifting sands, eyes locked on his target -- Red Fang's keep. "... Who will survive, and what will be left of them?" Pre-apocalyptic metal screamed in his ears, reason and thought shattered by the relentless pounding of heavy bass, the echoing sound of an electric guitar flooding his mind. "..Aplocalyptic dreams see the ordinary madness...," the music blared. The figure's fist clenched, ruddy black energy flitting around his body in a frenzy. Hellfire wound 'round his fist, his body, his soul. To touch this power was to flirt with insanity. Sanity was long gone. "Into another world, number nine bring the death in..." Red spots danced in his vision, and to any who might see, a solid line of black travelled across both eyes, seeming to pass through the pupils. The man's hand touched the ground, and a rumble echoed across the endless waste, a brief tremor shaking the ground. "Got 24 hours of psychoholic magic" The man smiled. "Come on - come on, the motherfucker's on fire.." The keep would fall. "Yeah yeah, yeah.. I'm already dead." Red would fall. "I'm already dead." -------------------------- Message 28 from *Storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Aug 25 14:51:51 1997 EDT From: Blacklocke (#17584) To: *Storylines (#5236) Subject: Seekers looking for a mentor... A note posted in a number of convenient locations: It has come to my attention that many out there have been looking for a mentor to teach them the arts. If you wish to become a student, there is a test that must be passed, which will define for me whether or not you are the type of student I would wish to help. Contact me via the post for further information. A meeting will be held to discuss the outcome of thet test, at which time three students will be selected, as I have already taken one on. Sincerely, Vidaya Blake PLEASE do not page about information. The information will be sent via mail, as noted above. Paging my other alts about this will not help your case, trust me on this one. The meeting place to discuss the outcome of the test will be held at 8PM on Wednesday, in the R/T Greenroom. People will give their answers, etc. in private, so as not to give too much away. The three selected will be notified via mail if they are unable to stay through the end of the tp. Good luck, and happy scheming. -Dee. --------------------------