Message 1078 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 12 01:54:52 1999 EST From: Smoke (#12541) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: re: Life in the desert. She scanned the wastes slowly from the hill top. The glare of disintegrated metal mirrored against her eyes. Nothing, life that was had long vanished. "Where the hell was Talon" she yelled out to phantom ears. Frowning, she headed down the hill, her boots catching small stones forcing them to tumble into oblivion. All was lost, Red was holed up playing husband, the rest of the Rangers feasting on their pay. No enemy, no man with any balls, all was for taking if one had a notion. She smiled now with her thoughts, perhaps she would take what she wanted. After all, her rifle man was ready if the payment was in standing. A gust of wind took hold while she stood silent, a fragment of news print flowed down about her feet. Reaching down she grasped the tattered paper in hand. A pig, pink, dressed as a woman smile at her in vivid color. 'Miss Piggy In Bondage' crossed the top. "A gagging pig" she whispered as she studied the print. She laughed, dropping the paper as she thought to herself, "Why would anyone pay attention to such a undersexed, fat ass freak?" -------------------------- Message 1079 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Feb 17 06:32:19 1999 EST From: Tirafal (#24173) To: *storylines (#5236) and *DragonRiders (#5915) Subject: Jihad Tears welled in her eyes as she sat on the bed and stared at the empty place on the carpet where the cradle had been. Yesterday she had taken the twins to Ylaerin for safety. They were now on the Mount. Tira doubted even Clayson was stupid enough to take on Morlith. Even Ynaosie, who would flinch when the Mount was mentioned, had agreed that Morlith was the safest place for them. Yraelan was making similar plans to move his own children to safety. Clayson had made it very plain she could spit the babies of the Complex on the end of a spear and never blink an eye. The goon squad of subintelligent hairy males, some of questionable species, that followed her around slathering over the ocassional sexual favor she tossed their way had harhared in their idiotic way. But it was the unprovoked attack on Tira that had brought it to a head. The Complex was gearing for war. Security had been tightened ever since Clayson had penetrated the Complex but now it was rigorous. Elshydrath had been set to watch in the Rotunda and Mars was on watch in the entrance hanger. She and her animal pack would have to get through a string of dragons just to get to the Rotunda. Tira sat on the bed, her heart aching for her babies. She had no idea what Clayson had been trying to accomplish by the attack, other then to vent her frustration at her inability to breech the Complex and gain the reactor. But Tira knew one thing; she would not live in fear. Her hands balled into fists and came down on her thighs. In her heart a promise was born to herself; her babies would live with her again and do so in safety. No matter what it took. Tira would take the war to Clayson. Her hand reached for the comm as the plan was born. -------------------------- Message 1080 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 19 21:29:25 1999 EST From: Mango (#16522) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A death Mango entered her humble little tent, bruised and tired. The bruises didn't come from sparring, no, She had been ignoring the practise she had been told to do. The bruises came from falling out of a tree she had been climbing, when the limb under her feet had broken. Without thinking, she reached into the little cage where her Guenia pig, Hershey lived. The second her fingers touched him, she knew something was wrong. His body was cold, his fur stiff, not glossy like it should be. She slowly turned to look, afraid of what she might find. It was every bit as bad as she thought it would be. Worse. He lay on his side, mouth open, as if he was gasping when he died, His little black eyes stared upwares, beginning to glaze over. He looked thin, his bones pressing against his skin, a pitiful little thing, nothing like how he had been just a few days ago. She sat there, her fingettips gently touching his side. The last thing, the last person of the life she had spent years searching for, traveling everywhere to find again, had left, was gone. The door she had been fighting to hold open so long had closed, and locked. He had left, leaving her hollow, empty. A pitcher that had been emptied, and now waited to be refilled again. All the truths she had known before, were lies now, death being the only constant throughout her thoughts. It raged in her mind, a fire that threatened to burn her to death. She sat, for hours in the dark tent, untill the fire burned itself out, leaving the knowledge that she wasn't capable of almost anything anymore, a bright red bulls-eye for the rest of the world to find and smother, burned into her mind. She would go on reading her books, looking for new truths, untill a new life found her. -------------------------- Message 1081 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Feb 20 22:22:44 1999 EST From: Phantom_Rose (#6337) To: *mages (#11664) and *storylines (#5236) Subject: Retirement for Frap. Frap packed a few things into his hat, took Charlie under his arm and said good bye to his home. Decisions decisions, but this latest spell had been enough to bring about things.. It was time to go.. A few incantations and the doorway opened, Frap took one last look around and stepped through. With a POP, the doorway closed, leaving no trace that it was there or any trail that the old mage might of taken. OOC: I just decided that it was time to retire the old guy.. With the New Adepts he won't be needed much and I really don't got the time to play him anymore. So like Kzin and Rathe I'm taking him out of the game.. But he'll be gone forever.. Gonna reroll and maybe play a subbie or something.. Was fun.. Would a wiz please take Charlie and recycle him.. Robert -------------------------- Message 1082 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Feb 25 23:39:44 1999 EST From: Yesima (#24646) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A Final Goodbye Spyder had to many things happening with her. Her past kept haunting her and she couldn't stop wondering. So she packed a much as she could carry with her. Then she walked around the cavern giving it one last look. As she noticed Johnny sleeping on the bed a single tear fell down her face. Spyder let out a soft sigh and turned around to walk out. Not wanting to look back. Spyder walked out slowly onto the ledge to where Alerin was laying. She gave her a soft pat and slowly climb onto Alerin back. Spyder leaned over and whisper softly to Alerin. Alerin then spreads her wings and took off. Spyder enjoyed her last flight with the dragon friend. Finally Alerin landed at Jizo. Spyder thought to herself, that Jizo was a better place than any. The place where she was found. Also the place where she first saw Johnny and Meg. Spyder slowly climbed off of Alerin and gave her another soft pat. Trying hard not to cry. Spyder told Alerin, "That someday everyone would understand." Not wanting to look at the sadness in Alerin's eyes, Spyder began to walk to the beach. She walked to a place she had visited alot. A place other than the mount that seemed peaceful to her. Spyder at last came to the beach. She looked into the icy cold water and started crying. As Spyder looked out, she lowered her hands to her belly. Slightly smiling as she felt the baby move. Spyder loudly said to herself and the baby, "That this is the right thing to do." As Spyder thought to herself that she would never find happiness untill she knows her past. Spyder sadly said goodbye to the things she had come to know and love. Hoping that someday Kiva will forgive her. Or maybe even forget her and the son she carries. Finally, Spyder turned around and left to search for her past. With hope that someday her and her son will return to the mount. -------------------------- Message 1083 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 26 00:17:15 1999 EST From: Shattered (#24781) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: If it ain't one thing, it's the motherfraggin other! Talon Bloodwynd was my name. But since, I have renamed myself Shattered. It fits the way I feel, and indeed AM quite perfectly, if I do say so myself. My life makes perfect sense. I mindlessly tear up small, mostly innocent creatures in search of the all-fraggin-mighty crystal. Not that I don't give most of my crystals as cherity to the needy, but that still bugs me. I think it's the hunting I like. The feeling of blood on my teeth. I didn't ask for any of this drek. What the hell did I do to deserve it? I'm getting nightmares from an amateur soulbond that was broken.... Not strong enough to fully link our minds, but enough that mine is permananently and possibly irrevokably FRAGGED UP now. As if that isn't the first of my problems. I can't trust anybody anymore. I have my suspicions that Nadir either lied to me or didn't tell me a VERY important fragment of the truth. Nobody tells me the truth or at least the whole truth anymore. I ask about alot of things just from curiosity. And I get conflicting answers every time I ask more than one person. Somebody's lying and/or withholding the truth from me, and I'm going to find out who and what it is if it kills me. And WHY THE HELL am I a Ranger if they're not going to let me in on the operations? What is this damned Complex place and why are THEY (I don't use WE in reference to the Rangers anymore) so damned interested in it? I'm gonna find out and I'm gonna either like what I hear or bag the whole bulldrek. I'm being pulled in several directions on several issues. I don't know which fraggin way they want me to jump. Sometimes I wish that people would just stay the hell away from me. Then I realize that I don't want to be alone. I want to be able to have one friend without someone else hating me for who I'm friends with. It's none of their goddamned business. I'm like salt water. Neutral as you can get. I don't care about your godsdamned issues, so don't drag me in when the drek slining starts. It's time to find out who my true friends are and where my loyalties lie. And tell them all that the only side I've ever been on is the only side anyone in his right mind can honestly be on at all: My own. -------------------------- Message 1084 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Feb 26 19:05:14 1999 EST From: Shattered (#24781) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Got to admit, it's getting better. The anthropomorphic lizard found himself contemplating suicide. "Frag this," he thought, as his vengeance on himself began to condense to a definate form in his mind. He toyed with the knife that had helped him spill the blood of others on so many occasions. He'd never killed anything humanoid, but that was about to change. He watched the light glint from the blade, steeling his nerves..... Then, from the back of his mind, something began a strangled scream. He wondered what it was at first. He hesitated, nearly dropping the knife as a sudden wave of thought hit him. "What about Nadir?" he thought with a detatched wonderment..... "She said she might not be able to go on without me." What about the others? The Rangers, my friends.... My adoptive family, most of which I've never even met... What of them? He stood then, thoughts of how he could escape leaving entirely. Finally realizing he needed a different kind of release. He needed the understanding and caring of friends like SnowHawk. He finally realized this, sheathing his knife with grim determination. He said to himself wearily as he stepped in front of the mirror, "I'm better than that. It can never get that bad. I can never make it SEEM that bad again." He examines himself briefly in the mirror, thoughts of all the good that's recently flooded in to replace the bad. He smiled, looking at his long, strong, prehensile tail swishing above his head in the mirror, and thinking of how much fun it is to chase. He looked at his unscarred legs, reminding himself how wonderful it was to be able to use the unproportionately strong appendages to move like the wind in any direction and as far and as fast as he choose. He remembered things about the people he's come to know as friends. He realized it is GOOD to trust people untill they hurt you once or twice. Alot of them won't and they all deserve a fair shake. He found himself musing about how much he's helped people and found that he rather liked doing the good, unselfish work that didn't come naturally by his animalistic instincts, but felt better than anything he'd done in accordance with instinct alone. And he found himself feeling actually GOOD about his present state of being. He was miserable with the cold he'd caught, his normally beautiful green and golden flecked eyes bloodshot and his face swolen up like he'd run into a wall at full speed, but he didn't care. There was far too much good going on to worry about all the bad. It is a balance thing. And the balance was tipping toward good finally, despite all that had gone wrong. He smiled to himself, vowing to live. Vowing to never think of death by his own hand again. If the good ones die, they'll come back to you. And if the bad ones lie to you, you'll find the truth eventually. The future was looking bright as he moved about his daily routine. This day, there would be sunshine, no doubt. -------------------------- Message 1085 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Feb 27 21:04:33 1999 EST From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Rituals of the beginning. Dante and Williker's movements were swift, and their preperations were merely beginning. A handful of the power at hand, and Red would soon feel it's reckoning. The first victim of war was done, Tiarnan proved essentially worthless save the fact he implicated Red for the 'searches' of the so called 'New Hope'. True, Dante was looking for an excuse, but this was all he needed. And so began the torture of the imprisoned. Day by day, the potion was poured, the ritual preformed, and thus by the third day Dante had his true masterpiece. A perfect statue of the one called Tiarnan. True it's value was of an aesthetic quality, but he would be only one among the first. Soon, ever so soon the Tower of Chronomancy would have the greatest, most life like art, and it was only a matter of time who was chosen next. -------------------------- Message 1086 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Feb 28 10:20:49 1999 EST From: Seht (#24474) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: RECOMBIANT FOR SALE Dear People, I can no longer take care of Seht, my loyal komodo dragon recombiant. He is an excellent bodyguard and he's going to need a new owner. I will not charge you for him. Please call Seht's communicator if you want him. He's absolutly free. Signed, Jack Wargrave, Former Wrestling Trainer -------------------------- Message 1087 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 1 03:44:13 1999 EST From: Dexter (#14882) To: *storylines (#5236) Dexter closed his eye against the beach sand whirling upwards from the shuttle's wash as he stepped onto Woods Hole for the first time in quite a while, making his way across the familiar pontoon bridge wondering if he remembered the access code for the main door. The skull of the giant beast was gone, the area that it covered was now much lighter than the rest of the building. "Heh. Good, they finally showed the subs what for and removed that damned eyesore." he chuckled to himself. His good mood faded as soon as he got closer to the door. The door was open, something had to be wrong. Cheetah would never allow the door to be left open like this. Inside, he found only tracks of people in the inch thick dust. The echo of his metal footsteps only made the facility sound even more empty, more alone, deader than it already was. Technology was dead or dying on this world despite whatever delusions he had about the current state of affairs and this only drove the point home to Dexter. "If I'm going to be phased out, I might as well make this my tomb." he sighed and set up his tent inside. -------------------------- Message 1088 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Mar 1 12:12:25 1999 EST From: Skarr (#24528) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: For sale Dakirion is releasing it's chameleon recombinant to the public use. Rental is at a small fee of only 100 crystals a month. The buyout price is 5000 crystals for the most avid buyers however. Skarr is loyal and possess many skills from defending to espionage and stealth. -------------------------- Message 1089 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 2 03:26:38 1999 EST From: Ymerith (#22840) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Another one bites the dust Johnny was falling, falling through the night sky. Desperately, he reached for the ripcord to discover he didn't have a parachute. The ground came closer, closer, closer.... He woke up screaming and in a cold sweat. The sudden warmth of draconic breath on his face in a tender whuffle snapped him back to reality. "Thanks Meg, you're right, I'm not alone." Not bothering to get dressed, he picked up his sledge hammer and stalked to the building area that was the forge. He started swinging his hammer at a pile of rocks, wearing only his pants, boots, and a dragon charm around his neck, the sparks that flew were pinpricks of brief discomfort on his chest, arms, and hands. The worn handle of the hammer turned his hands to bloody blisters that trickled down his arms, staining his pants and the floor. "She didn't even say goodbye. She couldn't even leave a note!" he shouted to nobody in particular, articulating each syllable with a thud and clank that was the sound of metal on stone. He continued his rantings, to himself, as grumbles under his breath, "When I'm gone there will be nothing left, no legacy, no sign that I was even alive. Ten years after I'm gone nobody will even remember me. Why does that bother me?". The handle of his hammer slipped out of his bloody hands and he fell from overbalancing. Sobbing, he dragged the hammer back to their... HIS cavern and stuffed it in his footlocker. Numbly stumbling to the infirmary he wrapped his hands, then returned to the cavern and cried himself to sleep. -------------------------- Message 1090 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 2 12:42:26 1999 EST From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The Warding. Rwo by row, they assembled. Dressed as they were, a plan was begun. The casting was simple, two by two at the center, the adepts by the magisters. The other 6 seekers on the outer circle, the power directing through the currents. Zephyrus began the chant and the sheer force of power that filled the room was indescribable. The entire tower was filled ith pure unfettered power as the spell commenced. The casting took most of the night, and when it was finished they were all exhausted. Row by row once more they left to return to their place, the casting been done. One sole figure remained behind, draped in robes of gold and black. Resting atop his brow a crown of fiery locks danced within a nimbus of power, "It has begun, now we shall see what the future is to hold, and none save god stay our path." -------------------------- Message 1091 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 2 18:35:03 1999 EST From: Red_Fang (#5907) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Leave Canceled Upon hearing about the terrible doings of Dante and company, Red recalls all Rangers to HQ and orders them not to go about alone for any reason.. THis means HUNTING or the Bathroom.. The Rangers aare on RED ALERT! IF you die cause you are drinking alone in the lounge, then you are on your own.... Red -------------------------- Message 1092 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 2 19:22:22 1999 EST From: Red_Fang (#5907) To: *Chat (#5391), *storylines (#5236), *ideas (#504), and *Bugs (#1294) Subject: Cross posting for IDIOTS Please READ 6099 on *chat Ranger BASE IS OFF LIMITS!! -------------------------- Message 1093 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Mar 2 20:05:52 1999 EST From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: OOC The post I made a while back, if it wasn't clear the effective power of three Adepts is put into warding the entire tower. So nothing short of a Magus or other cabal of mages will be able to cast spells, save for the current inhabitants. -------------------------- Message 1094 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 3 00:27:32 1999 EST From: Shattered (#24781) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Reconditioned. HELL! Shattered woke up in total disbelief.... The house lizard he'd beaten with his bare claws only half a week ago just KICKED HIS ASS ROYALLY! He's lost the bet..... The lure of crystals got him in trouble again. Shattered's face goes pale as he knows his fate. Skarr took Shattered to Dakiron. Being an honorable lizard, Shattered didn't try to back out or run this time. He'd lost fair and square. The reconditioning wasn't so bad. Just a little time in some weird machine that made his head swim and some freex in labcoats feeding him pills and jabbing needles in him. He put all his will into whatever they were doing. He WANTED it to succeed. And when Shattered WILLS something to happen to his mind, it happens. It's the only thing that's kept him sane all this time. He comes out of the drug-induced sleep with an odd feeling. He MUST have a master, or he has no purpose. He is worthless and forsaken if he has no master. (The following is found but immediately after this post on the chat on the bulletin board in the R/T Round Room) For sale: One male lizard recomb. Loyal, honorable, and intimidating, this lizard would be great for home defense. It knows some medical techniques, and is proficient in healing other recombs, as well as more human species. Contact Shattered directly to buy him or contract his services. The price is non-negotiable at 50 crystals per week of service or 2000 to buy outright. *test clause* Dakiron Industries reserves the right to request Shattered back at any time for Moreau Tests or any other form of psychic evaluation we deem nescesarry. If not relinquished to the proper Dakiron official by the day following any such request, Shattered will be hunted down and recaptured. -------------------------- Message 1095 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 3 01:29:00 1999 EST From: Clayson (#17237) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The Change. She watched the man, the refection mirrored, her face staring back at her....twins from the darkness of his glasses. The war was over, the uniform of death had been shed. Her thirst now was for knowledge. Dauthi had provided that with the small book. Her eyes traveled from the dark glasses of the man before her as she explained her need for change. His reaction was that of love and understanding, he agreed that the strange man they met at the bar could be the one. The woman was not to sure, she knew nothing of the stranger besides his self proclaim of being a student of Dauthi's....her past lover, her past killer. The darkness that held her close in the depth of fear of all who possessed the gift. -------------------------- Message 1096 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 3 19:36:07 1999 EST From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: To protect a tower. Dante had thought about this at length. The tower was warded but now, it was not so simple to defend it. No doubt Red might somehow manage to make his way into the tower at some point. To that end the tower heeded a guardian, animated stone statues were vulnerable, they could be shattered even after the enchantment. Dante needed a living, breathing, creature, something that could best even Red if the moment came. And so the search began, he went through the books in the library and most did not turn up that much, he needed a power to be reckoned with, something primordial. And just when his hopes were shattered he found such a creation. It would be a simple fettering spell, with his newly formed circle of mages in the tower they could accomplish anything. It was just a matter of preparing a summoning ritual, and where he may not know anything his mentor did. Now all he had to do was convince the others, and after that it would only be a matter of time. -------------------------- Message 1097 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 7 11:34:33 1999 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Dark ponderings Coreen stood in front of the full-length mirror, eyes slowly tracing the reflection of her unclothed body. Her gaze lingered on a few pale scars, bringing forth memories of their acquisition. All were a reminder of the past, and the pain that was associated with it. In a way, the scars were like a body count for her, for she knew that every person who had been a silent tally of the countless times she had suffered at the hands of others. Her lips twisted into a slight smirk. There were other wounds that left no mark; wounds that no one could see, but ones that she felt every day. Every scar had not gone unanswered - those responsible had been dealt with. She could remember their deaths just as clearly as she recalled receiving the scar...a broken bottle...a sword.... All had been repaid in kind. Except one. The one that sat deep within her being, quietly gnawing at her each day. A constant reminder of her failure. Her brows lowered into a frown, the hatred wakening once more in her veins. She gazed at the relection from beneath the ragged wisps of her bangs - the rest of her hair was in a similar way. Each strand was of a different length, made so by Dante's meddling as he had accelerated the growth of her hair. Her smirk contorted further into a snarl. Another reminder of her failure. She felt the same as she looked. There was always someone who meddled...toyed with her. Someone who felt themselves above her...who saw her as a nothing. There had been many like that before. She had shown them. In the end, their underestimation of her had been what allowed her to get close enough to dispatch them. But Dante... He was rather ironic. For one who thought so little of her, he certainly regarded her with a wary eye. She chuckled to herself, musing, "Maybe that's just his way of saying 'I love you.'" She brushed the blond cage of bangs from her eyes, pondering. A flick of her wrist levitated a knife from amongst her belongings on the bed, summoning to her grasp. Perhaps it was time to show Dante just who he had messed with. Her lips curved into a smile as the blade sliced through a lock of hair she held. Yes, that was a good idea indeed. -------------------------- Message 1098 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Mar 7 11:36:09 1999 EST From: Coreen (#18717) To: *storylines (#5236) del line 5 -------------------------- Message 1103 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Mar 10 16:11:46 1999 EST From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: OOC The previous 'birthing post' has been retconned, if you didn't read it then skip this one too. Otherwise consider it never happened. There was a misconception of time involved so thats it. All parties have settled and this was the only choice. -------------------------- Message 1104 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Mar 11 01:14:37 1999 EST From: Clayson (#17237) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Mud and Gewgaw, it's just like poopaw. She piled the mud high, her arms pained from digging the earth below the sea. She used the flat edge of her blade, spreading the mud, covering the inside of her domain. When finished she started on her body, caking herself with the soft sludge. She knew they were watching, she could feel the stabbing of ice, penetrating coldness. Now she was protected.... Wandering out to the darkness, her bare feet sinking into the wet sand. Foot prints were everywhere, life, spies....others besides the two of darkness had invaded her array. She stood underneath the waving flag, her eyes searching through the darkness toward the old buildings. Someone was dwelling there, she knew it, most likely a plant...a thrall of Dauthi's...a thrall like Mister Will. For a split second she saw the eyes of death, eyes placed so perfectly on a face of an angel. Fear gripped her, "I observe all" the voice echoed in her brain....she started to run, run as if to escape the images playing in her mind. She entered the sea with vigor, swirls of mud trailing behind her as she swam toward the tranquil darkness..... -------------------------- Message 1105 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 13 08:14:16 1999 EST From: Red_Fang (#5907) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: POSTED! ****REWARD**** For the confirmed death of the dark Adept Dante... (ooc: real pk death, no rping it.. Looting is required as well..) 20,000 crystals For the comfirmed death of Williker the dark Adepts lacky.. (ooc: same applys here.. pk death and looting) 10,000 crystals Notify Red Fang, Commander Rangers.. Communicator #20471 Also a 5,000 crystal reward for information leading to the recovery of a sword which was taken by Dante and Williker from a Ranger.. OOC: *grins* have fun.... -------------------------- Message 1106 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 13 08:24:57 1999 EST From: Rand (#9865) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: POSTED NEXT TO RED'S NOTICE Anyone who kills either Dnate or Williker will have to answer to me, is 20,000 crystals worth it? Lets find out. Rand -------------------------- Message 1107 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 13 09:25:07 1999 EST From: Moonheart (#20495) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Notes Moonheart pondered the 2 notes thinking to himself, "now if I collect the reward I have to answer to my son life is strange but it sure can be fun." -------------------------- Message 1108 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sat Mar 13 13:59:33 1999 EST From: Shattered (#24781) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Happy delerium... (entry in Personal Notes section of his experiments notebook...) January 31, 2644 - 4:00 PM Well, ain't that lovely? I can get the kill time of the neurotoxin I've been experimenting with down to 10 seconds flat, in the space of only 2 and a half weeks of research, but the antidote for the adrenaline booster, as well as the adrenaline booser itself are horribly substandard. The adrenaline booster only stimulates adrenaline levels in the blood to just over 350% normal. That's not what I'm looking for. I'm looking for five or ten TIMES normal without the nasty little side effect of the heart exploding after about fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on the dosage. I need this to work. If I find a marketable combat drug, I will be rich beyond even my dreams. And other than that, I will be finding my place in this world. Something conspires against me here. Perhaps I need to add a coronary muscle relaxant to the mix. But that doesn't bug me nearly as severely as the flaws in the tranquilizer meant for an antidote. It does indeed kill the adrenaline production, but ups the production of enorphines, causing a delerious state in the test subject. Natural morphine, produced by the body itself. The rats I've been using it on aren't used to captivity, and so tear the living hell out of eachother without provocation. When the adrenaline drug is applied, they slaughter eachother untill one is left. Then that one promptly jerks, and falls lifeless from its heart exploding. When on the tranquilizer, they don't even have the energy to do anything but sit by the area in which I put the food I give them and stare off into space. This is disturbing. I want to cause the combat rush without making the poor subject's heart explode, and I want to get rid of it just as quickly without the subject becoming a drooling, stoned idiot. Five weeks of work, and for what? I've been taking mild doses of the tranquilizer for stress. Maybe I should dilute it and use it only for an anti-stress medication. Hah. The tranquilizer has another very strange side effect. I don't know if it's the endorphines, or if it's something else the brain produces, but it takes away all inhibitions. You forgive people for things you'd normally hold grudges over for years. And the strange thing is, you don't get mad at them again after it wears off. Weird thing. Maybe it's just me, I don't know, but it seems to have that effect in the rats too. They forgive eachother for killing them easily. And don't try to take revenge. But then another scuffle over food breaks out and it starts all over again. This task is getting daunting. A true uphill battle. Maybe I'll scrap the project on the adrenaline booster alltogether, and keep the tranquilizer as a stress reliever. Whatever happens, I want to do this to help humanity, not fill my own pockets. And upon further thought, I'd say I'm more interested in helping people to suppress their combative urges than embrace them. Ah, hell, my mind is wandering again. Better stop writing for now. (After the last line of the entry, there is alot of doodling on the page, things like happy faces, peace symbols, badly drawn sketches of rats lying there stoned out of their minds, and speech balloons over them with sayings like, "can't we all just get along") --------------------------