From quinn@fazigu.org Fri Sep 10 12:09:29 1999 Return-Path: Received: from casper.realtime.net (casper.realtime.com [205.238.128.161]) by requiem.vv.com (8.8.7/8.8.7) with ESMTP id MAA11363 for ; Fri, 10 Sep 1999 12:09:27 -0400 Received: from casper.realtime.com (localhost [127.0.0.1]) by casper.realtime.net (8.7.4/8.7.3) with SMTP id LAA25127 for ; Fri, 10 Sep 1999 11:11:22 -0500 Message-Id: <199909101611.LAA25127@casper.realtime.net> Date: Fri, 10 Sep 1999 11:11:22 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@fazigu.org Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 1225 - 1233 from *storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.realtime.com 6969) Status: RO Content-Length: 6769 Lines: 170 Message 1225 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Jul 12 21:06:03 1999 EDT From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The birth of innocence. A child brought into this world, by magic and now deposited in Dante's arms. The girl was of a unusual mixed blood, both of which Dante had never seen. Coreen, the mother he knew was of obvious casual breed. But this was no ordinary child, Ebony, his daughter. Dante thought about that a moment, could he alone raise a child into this world? She would be everything that he had wished his life had been, perhaps to make up for whatever pain he suffered. And yet she would learn what he needed her to. She would fulfill her birthright, and who knows, even succeed where he had failed. The birth had been far too easy, Coreen's susceptible mind had fallen to the casual relic in the wasteland, her mind twisted by anger, hatred, and rage. She was like the old Coreen, and just as pathetic. But she was of no concern now, now he had a little girl to take care of. -------------------------- Message 1226 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 16 01:15:02 1999 EDT From: Murdock (#9869) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: changes.. cont. Murdock paced his lab as he looked all the cell samples over and over. He just couldnt believe how thorough the nanites were in redesigning his DNA while he was trapped in the vat while his assistant tried to get him out. He crouch-limped up and down the edge of the computer banks as they slowly scanned and studied the cells, confirming each time of their altered state. "Damn.." he mutters, winces and takes a few painkillers from a plastek vial, swallowing it with some whiskey. 'The severe cramps were alot worse last week, at least they're getting better..' he thought to himself, and took a sniff around and made a face. He also noted his senses have been heightened slightly, the musty anticeptic smell starting to get to him. Later at his cottage, he finally couldnt take the confines of the small cozy place and ran out, along the beach and into the jungle of the small island, if only to try and run from the pain that wrenched at his body. Dimly, he noticed how much his body has changed... the slight fur, the feline features. 'Must have been from some fur from Alexandra when she was helping clean the vat... the nanites must have thought it was part of MY cellular structure and merged her DNI data to mines...' he realized after some time in a secluded spot in the forest. Snapping a sturdy branch, he used it as a makeshift walking stick back home, if only to help with his aching leg... "I cant let the others see me like this...at least not yet." he muttered. -------------------------- Message 1227 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 16 01:37:14 1999 EDT From: Murdock (#9869) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: more from murdock... As Murdock loped along, he noticed a small pile of clothing, with some ruined, bloddy weapons. Discarding the weapons, he checked the coth for anything worthwile, crystals, tools... To his suprice, it was a robe, and just what he was looking for too! Smiling, he carefully folded it over one shoulder (trying not to get his claws caught in the material... again) and went home to patch up some of the tears... -------------------------- Message 1228 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 16 04:41:17 1999 EDT From: Murdock (#9869) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: more .... In the wee hours of the night, some people might hear stories of a robed man running around the cemetary in N'Orleans. Noone could identify the man, since the hood of the robe was covering him, but he left several creatures bodies laying about with an overabundance of what seems like claw marks. -------------------------- Message 1229 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Fri Jul 16 04:43:02 1999 EDT From: Rathe (#14172) To: *storylines (#5236) Stop digging up corpses and raping them, Murdock. -------------------------- Message 1230 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 18 00:51:55 1999 EDT From: Sinner (#12411) To: *storylines (#5236) Yeah. I can't believe there's not enough females for you to shag on here that you have to have fun with Necrophilia. -------------------------- Message 1231 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Jul 18 09:45:17 1999 EDT From: Ylaerin (#16541) To: *storylines (#5236) Boy, Sinner... you're one to talk. ;) -Jess (who is ducking for cover) -------------------------- Message 1232 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Thu Jul 22 03:33:55 1999 EDT From: Rand (#9865) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A revalation.... He sat back, looking down at the few pages that remained of a book he found in the wastes. An interesting book, perhaps a diary, it spoke of the Dragon Riders...A clan of nomads which the author was most likely a member. The authors description of the culture was familiar, a collection of rather, lackwitted people living in service to giant egotistical lizards....with wings... It had been a truely odd day, as he wandered the wastelands. He had been in search of a relic from the past to give to his daughter, instead, he found the diary. He had been compelled to return to his valley and read the few scraps of type faced paper. This find was quite amazing, as he had been recently scouring every book he could get his hands on to find out how long exactally the Dragons had be back on this planet. These aged papers showed that the Dragons must have been around before the breaking. Very odd indeed. With a soft sigh, he glanced back to the papers before him, and re-read the name typed atop each page: `Anne McCaffrey'. He shook his head one last time, muttering that he would ask one of the Riders about this McCaffrey woman in the morning.... -------------------------- Message 1233 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Aug 10 01:17:36 1999 EDT From: Vertemis (#23360) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: A castle in the wastes Vertemis sat at a small drafting table on the edge of the hangar. The two mechs towered before him, two Iron Giants (tm). Scribbling like a madman, Vertemis began to fill up the sheets of paper with detailed sketches and blueprints. Vertemis glanced up at the mechs. Cobwebs on the joints, dust on the frame. He turned to see Will, curled up on a hammock stretched between the Ripper and on of the catwalks, a beer on his stomach. He attached one of his blueprints to the Ghost with a refridgerator magnet. He paused while walking back to his desk. One thought crossed him mind, o O (Something is just not right here). Vertemis shrugged and went back to work. --------------------------